A ROMANY OF 
 THE SNOWS 
 
 OILBEF' PARKEI
 
 TITS-
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS
 
 WORKS BY GILBERT PARKER 
 
 PlKRRE AND HlS PEOPLE 
 
 MRS. FALCHION 
 
 THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE 
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD 
 
 A LOVER'S DIARY 
 
 WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 
 
 PUBLISHED IN ENGLAND AS 
 
 "AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH" 
 
 BEING A CONTINUATION OF THE PERSONAL HISTORIES OF " PIERRE 
 
 AND HIS PEOPLE," AND THE LAST EXISTING RECORDS 
 
 OF PRETTY PIERRE. 
 
 GILBERT PARKER 
 
 TORONTO 
 THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED
 
 Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the 
 year one thousand eight hundred and ninety-eight, by 
 GILBERT PARKER, London, England, in the Office of the 
 Minister of Agriculture.
 
 To 
 SIR WILLIAM C. VAN HORNE. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR WILLIAM, 
 
 To the public it "will seem, fitting tha 
 these new tales of "Pierre and His People" 
 should be inscribed to one whose notable career is 
 inseparably associated -with the life and develop- 
 ment of the Far North. 
 
 But there is a deeper and more personal signifi- 
 cance in this dedication, for some of the stories 
 were begotten in late gossip by your fireside ; and 
 furthermore, my little book is given a kind of 
 distinction, in having on its fore-page the name 
 of one -well known as a connoisseur of art and 
 a lover of literature. 
 
 Believe me, 
 
 DEAR SIR WILLIAM, 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 GILBERT PARKER. 
 
 7 PARK PLACE, 
 ST. JAME^S, 
 
 LONDON, S.W. 
 
 2227803
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ACROSS THE JUMPING SANDHILLS 7 
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 2O 
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 4! 
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING . . . . . 62 
 
 MALACHI .86 
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE 97 
 
 THE RED PATROL Il6 
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN* 130 
 
 AT BAMBER'S BOOM 154 
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE , 165 
 
 THE EPAULETTES 185 
 
 THE FINDING OF FINGALL 195 
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS IN THE VULGAR TONGUE . . 2O6 
 
 LITTLE BABICHE . . 233 
 
 AT POINT O' BUGLES 246 
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 260 
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUN DOGS 288 
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 299 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE "NINETY-NINE" .... 323 
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 359 
 
 THE PLUNDERER ........ 382 
 
 I
 
 AN ADVENTURER OF 
 THE NORTH 
 
 Across the Jumping Sandhills 
 
 " T T ERE now, Trader ; aisy, aisy ! Quicksands 
 JL J. I've seen along the sayshore, and up to 
 me half-ways I've been in wan, wid a double- 
 and-twist in the rope to pull me out ; but a 
 suckin' sand in the open plain aw, Trader, aw ! 
 the like o' that niver a bit saw I." 
 
 So said Macavoy the giant, when the thing was 
 talked of in his presence. 
 
 " Well, I tell you it's true, and they're not three 
 miles from Fort O'Glory. The Company's 1 men 
 don't talk about it what's the use? Travellers 
 are few that way, and you can't get the Indians 
 within miles of them. Pretty Pierre knows all 
 about them, better than anyone else almost He'll 
 stand by me in it eh, Pierre ? " 
 
 1 Hudson's Bay Company. 
 7
 
 8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Pierre, the half-breed gambler and adventurer, 
 took no notice, and was silent for a time, intent on 
 his cigarette; and in the pause Mowley the trapper 
 said : " Pierre's gone back on you, Trader. P'r'aps 
 ye haven't paid him for the last lie. I go one better, 
 you stand by me my treat that's the game!" 
 
 "Aw, the like o' that," added Macavoy reproach- 
 fully. "Aw, yer tongue to the roof o' yer mouth, 
 Mowley. Liars all men may be, but that's wid 
 wimmin or landlords. But, Pierre, aff another man's 
 bat like that aw, Mowley, fill your mouth wid the 
 bowl o' yer pipe ! " 
 
 Pierre now looked up at the three men, rolling 
 another cigarette as he did so; but he seemed to 
 be thinking of a distant matter. Meeting the three 
 pairs of eyes fixed on him, his own held them for 
 a moment musingly ; then he lit his cigarette, and, 
 half reclining on the bench where he sat, he began 
 to speak, talking into the fire as it were. 
 
 "I was at Guidon Hill, at the Company's post 
 there. It was the fall of the year, when you feel 
 that there is nothing sogood as life, and the air 
 drinks like wine. You think that sounds like a 
 woman or a priest? Mais, no. The seasons are 
 strange. In the spring I am lazy and sad ; in the 
 fall I am gay, I am for the big things to do. This 
 matter was in the fall. I felt that I must move. 
 Yet, what to do? There was the thing. Cards, 
 of course. But that's only for times not for all 
 
 \
 
 ACROSS THE JUMPING SANDHILLS 9 
 
 seasons. So I was like a wild dog on a chain. 
 I had a good horse Tophet, black as a coal, all 
 raw bones and joint, and a reach like a moose. 
 His legs worked like piston-rods. But, as I said, I 
 did not know where to go or what to do. So we 
 used to sit at the Post loafing: in the daytime 
 watching the empty plains all panting for travellers, 
 like a young bride waiting her husband for the first 
 time." 
 
 Macavoy regarded Pierre with delight He had 
 an unctuous spirit, and his heart was soft for 
 women so soft that he never had had one on his 
 conscience, though he had brushed gay smiles 
 off the lips of many. But that was an amiable 
 weakness in a strong man. " Aw, Pierre," he said 
 coaxingly, " kape it down ; aisy, aisy ! Me heart's 
 goin' like a trip-hammer at thought av it ; aw yis, 
 aw yis, Pierre ! " 
 
 " Well, it was like that to me all sun and a 
 sweet sting in the air. At night to sit and tell tales 
 and such things ; and perhaps a little brown brandy, 
 a look at the stars, a half-hour with the cattle the 
 same old game. Of course, there was the wife of 
 Hilton the factor fine, always fine to see, but deaf 
 and dumb. We were good friends, Ida and me. 
 I had a hand in her wedding. Holy, I knew her 
 when she was a little girl. We could talk together 
 by signs. She was a good woman ; she had never 
 guessed at evil. ' She was quick, too, like a flash,
 
 io AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 to read and understand without words. A face 
 was a book to her. 
 
 "Eh bien. One afternoon we were all standing 
 outside the Post, when we saw someone ride over 
 the Long Divide. It was good for the eyes. I 
 cannot tell quite how, but horse and rider were so 
 sharp and clear-cut against the sky, that they looked 
 very large and peculiar there was something in 
 the air to magnify. They stopped for a minute on 
 the top of the Divide, and it seemed like a messenger 
 out of the strange country at the farthest north 
 the place of legends. But, of course, it was only a 
 traveller like ourselves, for in a half-hour she was 
 with us. 
 
 " Yes, it was a girl dressed as a man. She did 
 not try to hide it ; she dressed so for ease. She 
 would make a man's heart leap in his mouth 
 if he was like Macavoy, or the pious Mowley 
 there." 
 
 Pierre's last three words had a touch of irony, 
 for he knew that the Trapper had a precious tongue 
 for Scripture when a missionary passed that way, 
 and a bad name with women to give it point. 
 Mowley smiled sourly ; but Macavoy laughed 
 outright, and smacked his lips on his pipe-stem 
 luxuriously. 
 
 " Aw now, Pierre all me little failin's aw ! " he 
 protested. 
 
 Pierre swung round on the bench, leaning upon
 
 ACROSS THE JUMPING SANDHILLS n 
 
 the other elbow, and, cherishing his cigarette, 
 presently continued: 
 
 " She had come far and was tired to death, so 
 stiff that she could hardly get from her horse; and 
 the horse too was ready to drop. Handsome 
 enough she looked, for all that, in man's clothes and 
 a peaked cap, with a pistol in her belt. She wasn't 
 big built just a feathery kind of sapling but she 
 was set fair on her legs like a man, and a hand 
 that was as good as I have seen, so strong, and like 
 silk and iron with a horse. Well, what was the 
 trouble ? for I saw there was trouble. Her eyes 
 had a hunted look, and her nose breathed like 
 a deer's in the chase. All at once, when she saw 
 Hilton's wife, a cry came from her and she reached 
 out her hands. What would women of that sort 
 do? They were both of a kind. They got into 
 each other's arms. After that there was nothing 
 for us men but to wait All women are the same, 
 and Hilton's wife was like the rest. She must get 
 the secret first ; then the men should know. We 
 had to wait an hour. Then Hilton's wife beckoned 
 to us. We went inside. The girl was asleep. 
 There was something in the touch of Hilton's wife 
 like sleep itself like music. It was her voice 
 that touch. She could not speak with her tongue, 
 but her hands and face were words and music. 
 Bien, there was the girl asleep, all clear of dust and 
 stain ; and that fine hand it lay loose on her breast,
 
 12 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 so quiet, so quiet. Enfin, the real story for how 
 she slept there does not matter but it was good to 
 see when we knew the story." 
 
 The Trapper was laughing silently to himself to 
 hear Pierre in this romantic mood. A woman's 
 hand it was the game for a boy, not an adven- 
 turer ; for the Trapper's only creed was that women, 
 like deer, were spoils for the hunter. Pierre's keen 
 eye noted this, but he was above petty anger. He 
 merely said : " If a man have an eye to see behind 
 the face, he understands the foolish laugh of a 
 man, or the hand of a good woman, and that is 
 much. Hilton's wife told us all. She had rode two 
 hundred miles from the south-west, and was making 
 for Fort Micah, sixty miles farther north. For 
 what? She had loved a man against the will of 
 her people. There had been a feud, and Garrison 
 that was the lover's name was the last on hi? 
 own side. There was trouble at a Company's 
 post, and Garrison shot a half-breed. Men 
 say he was right to shoot him, for a woman's 
 name must be safe up here. Besides, the half-breed 
 drew first ! Well, Garrison was tried, and must go 
 to jail for a year. At the end of that time he 
 would be free. The girl Janie knew the day. 
 Word had come to her. She made everything 
 ready. She knew her brothers were watching 
 her three brothers and two other men who had 
 tried to get her love. She knew also that they
 
 ACROSS THE JUMPING SANDHILLS 13 
 
 five would carry on the feud against the one man. 
 So one night she took the best horse on the ranch 
 and started away towards Fort Micah. Alors, you 
 know how she got to Guidon Hill after two days' 
 hard riding enough to kill a man, and over fifty yet 
 to do. She was sure her brothers were on her track. 
 But if she could get to Fort Micah, and be married 
 to Garrison before they came, she wanted no more. 
 
 " There were only two horses of use at Hilton's 
 post then ; all the rest were away, or not fit for 
 hard travel. There was my Tophet, and a lean 
 chestnut, with a long propelling gait, and not an 
 ounce of loose skin on him. There was but one 
 way : the girl must get there. Allons, what is the 
 good? What is life without these things? The 
 girl loves the man : she must have him in spite of 
 all. There was only Hilton and his wife and me 
 at the Post, and Hilton was lame from a fall, and 
 one arm in a sling. If the brothers followed, well, 
 Hilton could not interfere he was a Company's 
 man ; but for myself, as I said, I was hungry for 
 adventure, I had an ache in my blood for some- 
 thing. I was tingling to the toes, my heart was 
 thumping in my throat. All the cords of my 
 legs were straightening as if I was in the saddle. 
 
 " She slept for three hours. I got the two 
 horses saddled. Who could tell but she might 
 need help? I had nothing to do; I knew the 
 shortest way to Fort Micah, every foot and then
 
 i 4 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 it is good to be ready for all things. I told 
 Hilton's wife what I had done. She was glad. 
 She made a gesture at me as to a brother, and 
 then began to put things in a bag for us to carry. 
 She had settled all how it was to be. She had 
 told the girl. You see, a man may be what is it 
 they call me ? a plunderer, and yet a woman will 
 trust him, comme $a ! " 
 
 " Aw yis, aw yis, Pierre ; but she knew yer hand 
 and yer tongue niver wint agin a woman, Pierre. 
 Naw, niver a wan. Aw swate, swate, she was, wid 
 a heart a heart, Hilton's wife, aw yis ! " 
 
 Pierre waved Macavoy into silence. " The girl 
 waked after three hours with a start. Her hand 
 caught at her heart. ' Oh,' she said, still staring 
 at us, ' I thought that they had come ! ' A little 
 after she and Hilton's wife went to another room. 
 All at once there was a sound of horses outside, 
 and then a knock at the door, and four men 
 come in. They were the girl's hunters. 
 
 " It was hard to tell what to do all in a minute ; 
 but I saw at once the best thing was to act for all, 
 and to get all the men inside the house. So I 
 whispered to Hilton, and then pretended that I 
 was a great man in the Company. I ordered 
 Hilton to have the horses cared for, and, not 
 giving the men time to speak, I fetched out the 
 old brown brandy, wondering all the time what 
 could be done. There was no sound from the
 
 ACROSS THE JUMPING SANDHILLS 15 
 
 other room, though I thought I heard a door 
 open once. Hilton played the game well, and 
 showed nothing when I ordered him about, and 
 agreed word for word with me when I said no girl 
 had come, laughing when they told why they 
 were after her. More than one of them did not 
 believe at first ; but, pshaw, what have I been 
 doing all my life to let such fellows doubt me ? 
 So the end of it was that I got them all inside the 
 house. There was one bad thing their horses 
 were all fresh, as Hilton whispered to me. They 
 had only rode then a few miles they had stole 
 or bought them at the first ranch to the west of 
 the Post I could not make up my mind what 
 to do. But it was clear I must keep them quiet 
 till something shaped. 
 
 " They were all drinking brandy when Hilton's 
 wife come into the room. Her face was, mon Dieu ! 
 so innocent, so childlike. She stared at the men ; 
 and then I told them she was deaf and dumb, and 
 I told her why they had come. Voild, it was 
 beautiful like nothing you ever saw. She shook 
 her head so innocent, and then told them like a 
 child that they were wicked to chase a girl. I 
 could have kissed her feet Thunder, how she 
 fooled them ! She said, would they not search 
 the house? She said all through me, on her 
 fingers and by signs. And I told them at once. 
 But she told me something else that the girl had
 
 16 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 slipped out as the last man came in, had mounted 
 the chestnut, and would wait for me by the iron 
 spring, a quarter of a mile away. There was the 
 danger that some one of the men knew the finger- 
 talk, so she told me this in signs mixed up with 
 other sentences. 
 
 " Good ! There was now but one thing for me 
 to get away. So I said, laughing, to one of the 
 men, ' Come, and we will look after the horses, 
 and the others can search the place with Hilton.' 
 So we went out to where the horses were tied to 
 the railing, and led them away to the corral. 
 
 " Of course you will understand how I did it. 
 I clapped a hand on his mouth, put a pistol at his 
 head, and gagged and tied him. Then I got my 
 Tophet, and away I went to the spring. The girl 
 was waiting. There were few words. I gripped 
 her hand, gave her another pistol, and then we got 
 away on a fine moonlit trail. We had not gone a 
 mile when I heard a faint yell far behind. My 
 game had been found out. There was nothing to 
 do but to ride for it now, and maybe to fight. But 
 fighting was not good ; for I might be killed, and 
 then the girl would be caught just the same. We 
 rode on such a ride, the horses neck and neck, 
 their hoofs pounding the prairie like drills, raw- 
 bone to rawbone, a hell-to-split gait I knew 
 they were after us, though I saw them but once on 
 the crest of a Divide about three miles behind.
 
 ACROSS THE JUMPING SANDHILLS 17 
 
 Hour after hour like that, with ten minutes' rest 
 now and then at a spring or to stretch our legs. 
 We hardly spoke to each other; but, God of love ! 
 my heart was warm to this girl who had rode a 
 hundred and fifty miles in twenty-four hours. Just 
 before dawn, when I was beginning to think that 
 we should easy win the race if the girl could but 
 hold out, if it did not kill her, the chestnut struck 
 a leg into the crack of the prairie, and horse and 
 girl spilt on the ground together. She could 
 hardly move, she was so weak, and her face was 
 like death. I put a pistol to the chestnut's head, 
 and ended it The girl stooped and kissed the 
 poor beast's neck, but spoke nothing. As I helped 
 her on my Tophet I put my lips to the sleeve of 
 her dress. Mother of Heaven ! what could a man 
 do ? she was so dam' brave ! 
 
 "Dawn was just breaking oozy and grey at the 
 swell of the prairie over the Jumping Sandhills. 
 They lay quiet and shining in the green-brown 
 plain ; but I knew that there was a churn beneath 
 which could set those swells of sand in motion, and 
 make glory-to-God of an army. Who can tell 
 what it is? A flood under the surface, a tidal 
 river what ? No man knows. But they are sea 
 monsters on the land. Every morning at sunrise 
 they begin to eddy and roll and who ever saw a 
 stranger sight ? Bien y I looked back. There were 
 those four pirates coming on, about three miles
 
 i8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 away. What was there to do? The girl and 
 myself on my blown horse were too much. Then 
 a great idea come to me. I must reach and cross 
 the Jumping Sandhills before sunrise. It was one 
 deadly chance. 
 
 " When we got to the edge of the sand they were 
 almost a mile behind. I was all sick to my teeth 
 as my poor Tophet stepped into the silt. God ! 
 how I watched the dawn ! Slow, slow, we dragged 
 over that velvet powder. As we reached the 
 farther side I could feel it was beginning to move. 
 The sun was showing like the lid of an eye along 
 the plain. I looked back. All four horsemen 
 were in the sand, plunging on towards us. By the 
 time we touched the brown-green prairie on the 
 farther side the sand was rolling behind us. The 
 girl had not looked back. She seemed too dazed. 
 I jumped from the horse, and told her that she 
 must push on alone to the Fort, that Tophet could 
 not carry both, that I should be in no danger. 
 She looked at me so deep ah, I cannot tell how ! 
 then stooped and kissed me between the eyes I 
 have never forgot. I struck Tophet, and she was 
 gone to her happiness ; for before ' lights out ! ' she 
 reached the Fort and her lover's arms. 
 
 " But I stood looking back on the Jumping 
 Sandhills. So, was there ever a sight like that 
 those hills gone like a smelting-floor, the sunrise 
 spotting it with rose and yellow, and three horses
 
 ACROSS THE JUMPING SANDHILLS 19 
 
 and their riders fighting what cannot be fought ? 
 What could I do ? They would have got the girl 
 and spoiled her life, if I had not led them across, 
 and they would have killed me if they could. 
 Only one cried out, and then but once, in a long 
 shriek. But after, all three were quiet as they 
 fought, until they were gone where no man could 
 see, where none cries out so we can hear. The last 
 thing I saw was a hand stretching up out of the 
 sands." 
 
 There was a long pause, painful to bear. The 
 Trader sat with eyes fixed humbly as a dog's on 
 Pierre. At last Macavoy said : " She kissed ye, 
 Pierre, aw yis ; she did that ! Jist betune the eyes. 
 Do yees iver see her now, Pierre ? " 
 
 But Pierre, looking at him, made no answer.
 
 A Lovely Bully 
 
 HE was seven feet and fat. He came to Fort 
 O'Angel at Hudson's Bay, an immense 
 slip of a lad, very much in the way, fond of horses, 
 a wonderful hand at wrestling, pretending a horrible 
 temper, threatening tragedies for all who differed 
 from him, making the Fort quake with his rich 
 roar, and playing the game of bully with a fine 
 simplicity. In winter he fattened, in summer he 
 sweated, at all times he ate eloquently. 
 
 It was a picture to see him with the undercut of 
 a haunch of deer or buffalo, or with a whole prairie- 
 fowl on his plate, his eyes measuring it shrewdly, 
 his coat and waistcoat open, and a clear space 
 about him, for he needed room to stretch his 
 mighty limbs, and his necessity was recognised 
 by all. 
 
 Occasionally he pretended to great ferocity, but 
 scowl he ever so much, a laugh kept idling in his 
 irregular bushy beard, which lifted about his face 
 in the wind like a mane, or made a kind of under- 
 brush through which his blunt fingers ran at hide- 
 and-seek 
 
 20
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 21 
 
 He was Irish, and his name was Macavoy. In 
 later days, when Fort O'Angel was invaded by 
 settlers, he had his time of greatest importance. 
 
 He had been useful to the Chief Trader at the 
 Fort in the early days, and having the run of the 
 Fort and the reach of his knife, was little likely to 
 discontinue his adherence. But he ate and drank 
 with all the dwellers at the Post, and abused all 
 impartially. 
 
 "Malcolm," said he to the Trader, "Malcolm, 
 me glutton o' the H.B.C., that wants the Far 
 North for your footstool Malcolm, you villain, it's 
 me grief that I know you, and me thumb to me 
 nose in token ! " 
 
 Wiley and Hatchett, the principal settlers, he 
 abused right and left, and said, " Wasn't there land 
 in the East and West, that you steal the country 
 God made for honest men? you robbers o' the 
 wide world ! Me tooth on the Book, and I tell 
 you what, it's only me charity that kapes me from 
 spoilin' ye. For a wink of me eye, an' away you'd 
 go, leaving your tails behind you and pass that 
 shoulder of bear, you pirates, till I come to it side- 
 ways, like a hog to war ! " 
 
 He was even less sympathetic with Bareback 
 the chief and his braves. " Sons o' Anak y'are ; 
 here to-day and away to-morrow, like the clods ol 
 the valley and that's your portion, Bareback. It's 
 the word o' the Pentytook in pieces you go, like
 
 22 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 a potter's vessel. Don't shrug your shoulders at 
 me, Bareback, you pig, or you'll think that Ballze- 
 boob's loose on the mat ! But take a sup o' this 
 whisky, while you swear wid your hand on your 
 chist, ' Amin ' to the words o' Tim Macavoy ! " 
 
 Beside Macavoy, Pierre, the notorious, was a 
 child in height. Up to the time of the half-breed's 
 coming the Irishman had been the most outstand- 
 ing man at Fort O'Angel, and was sure of a good- 
 natured homage, acknowledged by him with a 
 jovial tyranny. 
 
 Pierre put a flea in his ear. He was pensively 
 indifferent to him even in his most royal moments. 
 He guessed the way to bring down the gusto 
 and pride of this Goliath, but, for a purpose, 
 he took his own time, nodding indolently to 
 Macavoy when he met him, but avoiding talk with 
 him. 
 
 Among the Indian maidens Macavoy was like a 
 king or khan ; for they count much on bulk and 
 beauty, and he answered to their standards 
 especially to Wonta's. It was a sight to see him 
 of a summer day, sitting in the shade of a pine, his 
 shirt open, showing his firm brawny chest, his 
 arms bare, his face shining with perspiration, his 
 big voice gurgling in his beard, his eyes rolling 
 amiably upon the maidens as they passed or 
 gathered near demurely, while he declaimed of 
 mighty deeds in patois or Chinook to the braves.
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 
 
 2 3 
 
 Pierre's humour was of the quietest, most sub- 
 terranean kind. He knew that Macavoy had not 
 an evil hair in his head ; that vanity was his 
 greatest weakness, and that through him there 
 never would have been more half-breed population. 
 There was a tradition that he had a wife some- 
 where based upon wild words he had once said 
 when under the influence of bad liquor; but he 
 had roared his accuser the lie when the thing was 
 imputed to him. 
 
 At Fort Ste. Anne Pierre had known an old 
 woman, by name of Kitty Whelan, whose character 
 was all tatters. She had told him that many years 
 agone she had had a broth of a lad for a husband ; 
 but because of a sharp word or two across the fire, 
 and the toss of a handful of furniture, he had left 
 her, and she had seen no more of him. " Tall, like 
 a chimney he was," said she, " and a chest like a 
 wall, so broad, and a voice like a huntsman's horn, 
 though only a b'y, an' no hair an his face ; an' she 
 didn't know whether he was dead or alive ; but 
 dead belike, for he's sure to come rap agin' some- 
 thin' that 'd kill him ; for he, the darlin', was that 
 aisy and gentle, he wouldn't pull his fightin' iron 
 till he had death in his ribs." 
 
 Pierre had drawn from her that the name of 
 this man whom she had cajoled into a marriage 
 (being herself twenty years older), and driven 
 to deserting her afterwards, was Tim Macavoy.
 
 24 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 She had married Mr. Whelan on the assumption 
 that Macavoy was dead. But Mr. Whelan had 
 not the nerve to desert her, and so he departed 
 this life, very loudly lamented by Mrs. Whelan, 
 who had changed her name with no right to do 
 so. With his going her mind dwelt greatly upon 
 the virtues of her mighty vanished Tim : and ill 
 would it be for Tim if she found him. 
 
 Pierre had journeyed to Fort O' Angel almost 
 wholly because he had Tim Macavoy in his mind : 
 in it Mrs. Whelan had only an incidental part; 
 his plans journeyed beyond her and her lost 
 consort. He was determined on an expedition to 
 capture Fort Comfort, which had been abandoned 
 by the great Company, and was now held by a 
 great band of the Shunup Indians. 
 
 Pierre had a taste for conquest for its own 
 sake, though he had no personal ambition. The 
 love of adventure was deep in him, he adored 
 sport for its own sake, he had had a long range 
 of experiences some discreditable, and now he 
 had determined on a new field for his talent 
 
 He would establish a kingdom, and resign it 
 In that case he must have a man to take his 
 place. He chose Macavoy. 
 
 First he must humble the giant to the earth, 
 then make him into a great man again, with a 
 new kind of courage. The undoing of Macavoy 
 seemed a civic virtue. He had a long talk with
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 25 
 
 Wonta, the Indian maiden most admired by 
 Macavoy. Many a time the Irishman had cast 
 an ogling, rolling eye on her, and had talked his 
 loudest within her ear-shot, telling of splendid 
 things he'had done : making himself like another 
 Samson as to the destruction of men, and a 
 Hercules as to the slaying of cattle. 
 
 Wonta had a sense of humour also, and when 
 Pierre told her what was required of her, she 
 laughed with a quick little gurgle, and showed as 
 handsome a set of teeth as the half-breed's; 
 which said much for her. She promised to do 
 as he wished. So it chanced when Macavoy was 
 at his favourite seat beneath the pine, talking to 
 a gaping audience, Wonta and a number of 
 Indian girls passed by. Pierre was leaning against 
 a door smoking, not far away. Macavoy's voice 
 became louder. 
 
 " ' Stand them up wan by wan,' says I, ' and give 
 me a leg loose, and a fist free ; and at that ' " 
 
 " At that there was thunder and fire in the 
 sky, and because the great Macavoy blew his 
 breath over them they withered like the leaves," 
 cried Wonta, laughing; but her laugh had an 
 edge. 
 
 Macavoy stopped short, open-mouthed, breath- 
 ing hard in his great beard. He was astonished 
 at Wonta's raillery ; the more so when she pre- 
 sently snapped her fingers, and the other maidens,
 
 26 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 laughing, did the same. Some of the half-breeds 
 snapped their fingers also in sympathy, and 
 shrugged their shoulders. Wonta came up to 
 him softly, patted him on the head, and said : 
 " Like Macavoy there is nobody. He is a great 
 brave. He is not afraid of a coyote, he has 
 killed prairie-hens in numbers as pebbles by the 
 lakes. He has a breast like a fat ox," here she 
 touched the skin of his broad chest, " and he will 
 die if you do not fight him." 
 
 Then she drew back, as though in humble dread, 
 and glided away with the other maidens, Macavoy 
 staring after her, with a blustering kind of shame 
 in his face. The half-breeds laughed, and, one by 
 one, they got up, and walked away also. Macavoy 
 looked round : there was no one near save Pierre, 
 whose eye rested on him lazily. Macavoy got to 
 his feet, muttering. This was the first time in his 
 experience at Fort O'Angel that he had been 
 bluffed and by a girl ; one for whom he had a 
 very soft place in his big heart Pierre came 
 slowly over to him. 
 
 " I'd have it out with her," said he. " She called 
 you a bully and a brag." 
 
 " Out with her ? " cried Macavoy. " How can 
 ye have it out wid a woman ? " 
 
 " Fight her," said Pierre pensively. 
 
 "Fight her? fight her? Holy smoke! How 
 can you fight a woman ? "
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 27 
 
 "Why, what do you fight?" asked Pierre 
 innocently. 
 
 Macavoy grinned in a wild kind of fashion. 
 " Faith, then, y'are a fool. Bring on the divil an' 
 all his angels, say I, and I'll fight thim where I 
 stand." 
 
 Pierre ran his fingers down Macavoy's arm, and 
 said, "There's time enough for that. I'd begin 
 with the five." 
 
 " What five, then ? " 
 
 " Her half-breed lovers : Big Eye, One Toe, 
 Jo-John, Saucy Boy, and Limber Legs." 
 
 " Her lovers ? Her lovers, is it? Is their truth 
 on y'r tongue ? " 
 
 " Go to her father's tent at sunset, and you'll 
 find one or all of them there." 
 
 " Oh, is that it ? " said the Irishman, opening 
 and shutting his fists. " Then I'll carve their 
 hearts out, an' ate thim wan by wan this night." 
 
 " Come down to Wiley's," said Pierre, " there's 
 better company there than here." 
 
 Pierre had arranged many things, and had 
 secured partners in his little scheme for humbling 
 the braggart. He so worked on the other's good 
 nature that by the time they reached the settler's ' 
 place, Macavoy was stretching himself with a big 
 pride. Seated at Wiley's table, with Hatchett and 
 others near, and drink going about, someone drew 
 the giant on to talk, and so deftly and with such
 
 28 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 apparent innocence did Pierre, by a word here and 
 a nod there, encourage him, that presently he 
 roared at Wiley and Hatchett 
 
 " Ye shameless buccaneers that push your way 
 into the tracks of honest men, where the Com- 
 pany's been three hundred years by the will o 1 
 God if it wasn't for me, ye Jack Sheppards " 
 
 Wiley and Hatchett both got to their feet with 
 pretended rage, saying he'd insulted them both, 
 that he was all froth and brawn, and giving him 
 the lie. 
 
 Utterly taken aback, Macavoy could only stare, 
 puffing in his beard, and drawing in his legs, 
 which had been spread out at angles. He looked 
 from Wiley to the impassive Pierre. " Buccaneers, 
 you call us," Wiley went on ; " we'll have no more 
 of that, or there'll be trouble at Fort O'Angel." 
 
 " Ah, sure y'are only jokin'," said Macavoy, " for 
 I love ye, ye scoundrels. It's only me fun." 
 
 " For fun like that you'll pay, ruffian ! " said 
 Hatchett, bringing down his fist on the table with 
 a bang. 
 
 Macavoy stood up. He looked confounded, but 
 there was nothing of the coward in his face. " Oh, 
 well," said he, " I'll be goin', for ye've got y'r teeth 
 all raspin'." 
 
 As he went the two men laughed after him 
 mockingly. " Wind like a bag," said Hatchett. 
 " Bone like a marrowfat pea," added Wiley.
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 
 
 29 
 
 Macavoy was at the door, but at that he turned. 
 " If ye care to sail agin' that wind, an* gnaw on 
 that bone, I'd not be sayin' you no." 
 
 " Will to-night do at sunset ? " said Wiley. 
 
 " Bedad, then, me b'ys, sunset'll do an' not 
 more than two at a time," he added softly, all the 
 roar gone from his throat. Then he went out, 
 followed by Pierre. 
 
 Hatchett and Wiley looked at each other and 
 laughed a little confusedly. "What's that he 
 said ? " muttered Wiley. " Not more than two at a 
 time, was it?" 
 
 " That was it. I don't know that it's what we 
 bargained for, after all." He looked round on the 
 other settlers present, who had been awed by the 
 childlike, earnest note in Macavoy's last words. 
 They shook their heads now a little sagely ; they 
 weren't so sure that Pierre's little game was so 
 jovial as it had promised. 
 
 Even Pierre had hardly looked for so much from 
 his giant as yet. In a little while he had got 
 Macavoy back to his old humour. 
 
 "What was I made for but war!" said the 
 Irishman, "an' by war to kape thim at peace, 
 wherever I am." 
 
 Soon he was sufficiently restored in spirits to go 
 with Pierre to Bareback's lodge, where, sitting at 
 the tent door, with idlers about, he smoked with 
 the chief and his braves. Again Pierre worked
 
 30 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 upon him adroitly, and again he became loud in 
 speech, and grandly patronising. 
 
 " I've stood by ye like a father, ye loafers," he 
 said, " an' I give you my word, ye howlin' rogues 
 
 Here Bareback and a half-dozen braves came 
 up suddenly from the ground, and the chief said 
 fiercely : " You speak crooked things. We are no 
 rogues. We will fight." 
 
 Macavoy's face ran red to his hair. He scratched 
 his head a little foolishly, and gathered himself up. 
 " Sure, 'twas only me tasin', darlin's," he said, " but 
 I'll be com in' again, when y'are not so narvis." 
 He turned to go away. 
 
 Pierre made a sign to Bareback, and the Indian 
 touched the giant on the arm. " Will you fight ? " 
 said he. 
 
 "Not all o' ye at once," said Macavoy slowly, 
 running his eye carefully along the half-dozen ; "not 
 more than three at a toime," he added with a simple 
 sincerity, his voice again gone like the dove's. " At 
 what time will it be convaynyint for ye ? " he asked. 
 
 " At sunset," said the chief, " before the Fort." 
 
 Macavoy nodded and walked away with Pierre, 
 whose glance of approval at the Indians did not 
 make them thoroughly happy. 
 
 To rouse the giant was not now so easy. He 
 had already three engagements of violence for 
 sunset. Pierre directed their steps by a round- 
 about to the Company's stores, and again there
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 31 
 
 was a distinct improvement in the giant's spirits 
 Here at least he could be himself, he thought, here 
 no one should say him nay. As if nerved by the 
 idea, he plunged at once into boisterous raillery of 
 the Chief Trader. " Oh, ho," he began, " me free- 
 booter, me captain av the looters av the North ! " 
 
 The Trader snarled at him. " What d'ye mean, 
 by such talk to me, sir? I've had enough we've 
 all had enough of your brag and bounce; for 
 you're all sweat and swill-pipe, and I give you this 
 for your chewing, that though by the Company's 
 rules I can't go out and fight you, you may have 
 your pick of my men for it. I'll take my pay for 
 your insults in pounded flesh Irish pemmican ! " 
 
 Macavoy's face became mottled with sudden rage. 
 He roared, as, perhaps, he had never roared before 
 
 "Are ye all gone mad mad mad? I was 
 jokin' wid ye, whin I called ye this or that. But 
 by the swill o' me pipe, and the sweat o' me skin, 
 I'll drink the blood o' yees, Trader, me darlin'. 
 An' all I'll ask is, that ye mate me to-night whin 
 the rest o' the pack is in front o' the Fort but 
 not more than four o' yees at a time for little 
 scrawney rats as y'are, too many o' yees wad be 
 in me way." He wheeled and strode fiercely out 
 Pierre smiled gently. 
 
 "He's a great bully that, isn't he, Trader? 
 There'll be fun in front of the Fort to-night. For 
 he's only bragging, of course eh ? "
 
 32 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 The Trader nodded with no great assurance 
 and then Pierre said as a parting word : " You'll 
 be there, of course only four av ye!" and 
 hurried out after Macavoy, humming to himself 
 
 " For the King said this, and the Queen said that, 
 But he walked away with their army, O 1 " 
 
 So far Pierre's plan had worked even better than 
 he expected, though Macavoy's moods had not 
 been altogether after his imaginings. He drew 
 alongside the giant, who had suddenly grown 
 quiet again. Macavoy turned and looked down 
 at Pierre with the candour of a schoolboy, and his 
 voice was very low 
 
 "It's a long time ago, I'm thinkin'," he said, 
 " since I lost me frinds ages an' ages ago. For 
 me frinds are me inimies now, an' that makes a 
 man old. But I'll not say that it cripples his arm 
 or humbles his back." He drew his arm up once 
 or twice and shot it out straight into the air like 
 a catapult. " It's all right," he added, very softly, 
 " an', Half-breed, me b'y, if me frinds have turned 
 inimies, why, I'm thinkin' me inimy has turned frind, 
 for that I'm sure you were, an' this I'm certain 
 y'are. So here's the grip av me fist, an' y'll have it." 
 
 Pierre remembered that disconcerting, iron grip 
 of friendship for many a day. He laughed to 
 himself to think how he was turning the braggart 
 into a warrior.
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 33 
 
 "Well," said Pierre, "what about those five at 
 Wonta's tent ?" 
 
 " I'll be there whin the sun dips below the Little 
 Red Hill," he said, as though his thoughts were far 
 away, and he turned his face towards Wonta's 
 tent Presently he laughed out loud. " It's many 
 a long day," he said, " since " 
 
 Then he changed his thoughts. " They've spoke 
 sharp words in me teeth," he continued, "and they'll 
 pay for it. Bounce ! sweat ! brag ! wind ! is it ? 
 There's dancin' beyant this night, me darlins ! " 
 
 " Are you sure you'll not run away when they 
 come on?" said Pierre, a little ironically. 
 
 "Is that the word av a frind?" replied Macavoy, 
 a hand fumbling in his hair. 
 
 " Did you never run away when faced ? " Pierre 
 asked pitilessly. 
 
 " I never turned tail from a man, though, to be 
 sure, it's been more talk than fight up here: Fort Ste. 
 Anne's been but a graveyard for fun these years." 
 
 " Eh, well," persisted Pierre, " but did you never 
 turn tail from a slip of a woman ? " 
 
 The thing was said idly. Macavoy gathered 
 his beard in his mouth, chewing it confusedly. 
 " You've a keen tongue for a question," was his 
 reply. " What for should any man run from a 
 woman ? " 
 
 " When the furniture flies, an' the woman knows 
 more of the world in a day than the man does in 
 3
 
 34 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 a year ; and the man's a hulking bit of an Irish- 
 man bien, then things are so and so ! " 
 
 Macavoy drew back dazed, his big legs trembling. 
 " Come into the shade of these maples," said Pierre, 
 " for the sun has set you quaking a little," and he 
 put out his hand to take Macavoy's arm. 
 
 The giant drew away from the hand, but walked 
 on to the trees. His face seemed to have grown 
 older by years on the moment. " What's this y'are 
 sayin' to me ? " he said hoarsely. " What do you 
 know av av that woman ? " 
 
 " Malahide is a long way off," said Pierre, " but 
 when one travels why shouldn't the other ? " 
 
 Macavoy made a helpless motion with his 
 lumbering hand. " Mother o* saints," he said, 
 "has it come to that, after all these years? Is she 
 tell me where she is, me frind, and you'll niver 
 want an arm to fight for ye, an' the half av a 
 blanket, while I have wan ! " 
 
 " But you'll run as you did before, if I tell you, 
 an' there'll be no fighting to-night, accordin' to the 
 word you've given." 
 
 " No fightin', did ye say ? an' run away, is it ? 
 Then this in your eye, that if ye'll bring an army, 
 I'll fight till the skin is 'in rags on me bones, whin 
 it's only men that's before me ; but womin and 
 that wan ! Faith, t'd run, I'm thinkin', as I did, 
 you know when Don't tell me that she's here, 
 man ; arrah, don't say that ! "
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 35 
 
 There was something pitiful and childlike in the 
 big man's voice, so much so that Pierre, calculating 
 gamester as he was, and working upon him as he 
 had been for many weeks, felt a sudden pity, and 
 dropping his fingers on the other's arm, said : " No, 
 Macavoy, my friend, she is not here ; but she is at 
 Fort Ste. Anne or was when I left there." 
 
 Macavoy groaned. "Does she know that I'm 
 here ? " he asked. 
 
 " I think not. Fort Ste. Anne is far away, and 
 she may not hear." 
 
 " What what is she doing ? " 
 
 " Keeping your memory and Mr. Whelan's 
 green." Then Pierre told him somewhat bluntly 
 what he knew of Mrs. Macavoy. 
 
 " I'd rather face Ballzeboob himself than her," 
 said Macavoy. " An' she's sure to find me." 
 
 " Not if you do as I say." 
 
 " An* what is it ye say, little man ? " 
 
 " Come away with me where she'll not find you." 
 
 " An' where's that, Pierre darlin' ? " 
 
 " I'll tell you that when to-night's fighting's over. 
 Have you a mind for Wonta ? " he continued. 
 
 " I've a mind for Wonta an' many another as fine, 
 but I'm a married man," he said, "by priest an' by 
 book ; an' I can't forget that, though the woman's 
 to me as the pit below." 
 
 Pierre looked curiously at him. "You're a 
 wonderful fool," he said, "but I'm not sure that
 
 36 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 I like you less for that. There was Shon M'Gann 
 but it is no matter." He sighed and continued : 
 " When to-night is over, you shall have work and 
 fun that you've been fattening for this many a year, 
 and the woman'll not find you, be sure of that. 
 Besides " he whispered in Macavoy's ear. 
 
 " Poor divil, poor divil, she'd always a throat for 
 that ; but it's a horrible death to die, I'm thinkin'." 
 Macavoy's chin dropped on his breast. 
 
 When the sun was falling below Little Red Hill, 
 Macavoy came to Wonta's tent. Pierre was not 
 far away. What occurred in the tent Pierre never 
 quite knew, but presently he saw Wonta run out 
 in a frightened way, followed by the five half- 
 breeds, who carried themselves awkwardly. Behind 
 them again, with head shaking from one side to 
 the other, travelled Macavoy ; and they all marched 
 away towards the Fort. " Well," said Pierre to 
 Wonta, " he is amusing, eh ? so big a coward, eh ? " 
 
 " No, no," she said, " you are wrong. He is no 
 coward. He is a great brave. He spoke like a little 
 child, but he said he would fight them all when 
 
 " When their turn came," interposed Pierre, with 
 a fine " bead " of humour in his voice ; " well, 
 you see he has much to do." He pointed towards 
 the Fort, where people were gathering fast. The 
 strange news had gone abroad, and the settlement, 
 laughing joyously, came to see Macavoy swagger : 
 they did not think there would be fighting.
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 37 
 
 Those whom Macavoy had challenged were not 
 so sure. When the giant reached the open space 
 in front of the Fort, he looked slowly round him. 
 A great change had come ^Dver him. His skin 
 seemed drawn together more firmly, and running 
 himself up finely to his full height, he looked no 
 longer the lounging braggart. Pierre measured 
 him with his eye, and chuckled to himself. Macavoy 
 stripped himself of his coat and waistcoat, and 
 rolled up his sleeves. His shirt was flying at the 
 chest 
 
 He beckoned to Pierre. 
 
 " Are you standin' me frind in this ? " he said. 
 
 " Now and after," said Pierre, 
 
 His voice was very simple. a I never felt as I 
 do, since the day the coast-guardsmin dropped on 
 me in Ireland far away, an' I drew blood an every 
 wan o' them fine beautiful b'ys they looked 
 stretchin' out on the ground wan by wan. D'ye 
 know the double-an'-twist ? " he suddenly added, 
 " for it's a honey trick whin they gather in an you, 
 an' you can't be layin' out wid yer fists. It plays 
 the divil wid the spines av thim. Will ye have a 
 drop av drink cold water, man near, an* a 
 sponge betune whiles? For there's many in the 
 play makin' up for lost time. Come on," he 
 added to the two settlers, who stood not far away, 
 " for ye began the trouble, an' we'll settle accordin* 
 to a, b, c."
 
 38 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Wiley and Hatchett were there. Responding to 
 his call, they stepped forward, though they had 
 now little relish for the matter. They were pale, 
 but they stripped their coats and waistcoats, and 
 Wiley stepped bravely in front of Macavoy. The 
 giant looked down on him, arms folded. " I said 
 two of you," he crooned, as if speaking to a 
 woman. Hatchett stepped forward also. An instant 
 after the settlers were lying on the ground at 
 different angles, bruised and dismayed, and little 
 likely to carry on the war. Macavoy took a pail 
 of water from the ground, drank from it lightly, 
 and waited. None other of his opponents stirred. 
 "There's three Injins," he said, "three rid divils, 
 that wants showin' the way to their happy huntin' 
 grounds. . . . Sure, y'are comin', ain't you, me 
 darlin's?" he added coaxingly, and he stretched 
 himself, as if to make ready. 
 
 Bareback, the chief, now harangued the three 
 Indians, and they stepped forth warily. They had 
 determined on strategic wrestling, and not on the 
 instant activity of fists. But their wiliness was 
 useless, for Macavoy's double-and-twist came near 
 to lessening the Indian population of Fort O'Angel. 
 It only broke a leg and an arm, however. The 
 Irishman came out of the tangle of battle with a 
 wild kind of light in his eye, his beard all torn, 
 and face battered. A shout of laughter, admira- 
 tion, and wonder went up from the crowd. There
 
 A LOVELY BULLY 39 
 
 was a moment's pause, and then Macavoy, whose 
 blood ran high, stood forth again. The Trader 
 came to him. 
 
 "Must this go on?" he said; "haven't you had 
 your fill of it ? " 
 
 Had he touched Macavoy with a word of humour 
 the matter might have ended there ; but now the 
 giant spoke loud, so all could hear. 
 
 "Had me fill av it, Trader, me angel? I'm 
 only gittin' the taste av it An' ye'll plaze bring 
 on yer men four it was for the feed av Irish 
 pemmican." 
 
 The Trader turned and swore at Pierre, who 
 smiled enigmatically. Soon after, two of the 
 best fighters of the Company's men stood forth. 
 Macavoy shook his head. " Four, I said, an' four 
 I'll have, or I'll ate aff the heads aff these." 
 
 Shamed, the Trader sent forth two more. All 
 on an instant the four made a rush on the giant ; 
 and there was a stiff minute after, in which it was 
 not clear that he was happy. Blows rattled on 
 him, and one or two he got on the head, just as he 
 tossed a man spinning senseless across the grass, 
 which sent him staggering backwards for a moment, 
 sick and stunned. 
 
 Pierre called over to him swiftly : " Remember 
 Malahide ! " 
 
 This acted on him like a charm. There never 
 was seen such a shattered bundle of men as came
 
 40 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 out from his hands a few minutes later. As for 
 himself, he had but a rag or two on him, but stood 
 unmindful of his state, and the fever of battle 
 untameable on him. The women drew away. 
 
 " Now, me babes o' the wood," he shouted, " that 
 sit at the feet av the finest Injin woman in the 
 North, though she's no frind o' mine and aren't 
 fit to kiss her moccasin, come an wid you, till I 
 have me fun wid your spines." 
 
 But a shout went up, and the crowd pointed. 
 There were the five half-breeds running away 
 across the plains. 
 
 The game was over. 
 
 " Here's some clothes, man ; for Heaven's sake 
 put them on," said the Trader. 
 
 Then the giant became conscious of his con- 
 dition, and like a timid girl he hurried into the 
 clothing. 
 
 The crowd would have carried him on their 
 shoulders, but he would have none of it. 
 
 " I've only wan friend here," he said, " an' it's 
 Pierre, an' to his shanty I go an' no other." 
 
 " Come, mon ami" said Pierre, " for to-morrow 
 we travel far." 
 
 And what for that ? " said Macavoy. 
 
 Pierre whispered in his ear; "To make you a 
 king, my lovely bully."
 
 The Filibuster 
 
 T)IERRE had determined to establish a king- 
 A dom, not for gain, but for conquest's sake. 
 But because he knew that the thing would pall, 
 he took with him Macavoy the giant, to make him 
 king instead. But first he made Macavoy from a 
 lovely bully, a bulk of good-natured brag, into a 
 Hercules of fight ; for, having made him insult 
 and be insulted by near a score of men at Fort 
 O'Angel, he also made him fight them by twos, 
 threes, and fours, all on a summer's evening, and 
 send them away broken. Macavoy would have 
 hesitated to go with Pierre, were it not that he 
 feared a woman. Not that he had wronged her; she 
 had wronged him : she had married him. And the 
 fear of one's own wife is the worst fear in the world. 
 But though his heart went out to women, and his 
 tongue was of the race that beguiles, he stood to his 
 " lines " like a man, and people wondered. Even 
 Wonta, the daughter of Foot-in-the-Sun, only bent 
 him, she could not break him to her will. Pierre 
 turned her shy coaxing into irony that was on the 
 day when all Fort O'Angel conspired to prove 
 
 41
 
 42 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Macavoy a child and not a warrior. But when she 
 saw what she had done, and that the giant was 
 greater than his years of brag, she repented, and 
 hung a dead coyote at Pierre's door as a sign of her 
 contempt. 
 
 Pierre watched Macavoy, sitting with a sponge of 
 vinegar to his head, for he had had nasty joltings 
 in his great fight. A little laugh came crinkling up 
 to the half-breed's lips, but dissolved into silence. 
 
 " We'll start in the morning," he said. 
 
 Macavoy looked up. " Whin you plaze ; but a 
 word in your ear ; are you sure she'll not follow us ? " 
 
 " She doesn't know. Fort Ste. Anne is in the 
 south, and Fort Comfort, where we go, is far north." 
 
 " But if she kem ! " the big man persisted. 
 
 "You will be a king; you can do as other kings 
 have done ! " Pierre chuckled. 
 
 The other shook his head. " Says Father Nolan 
 to me, says he, ' 'tis till death us do part, an' no man 
 put asunder ' ; an' I'll stand by that, though I'd slice 
 out the bist tin years av me life, if I niver saw her 
 face again." 
 
 " But the girl, Wonta what a queen she'd make ! " 
 
 " Marry her yourself, and be king yourself, and 
 be damned to you ! For she, like the rest, laughed 
 in me face, whin I told thim of the day whin I 
 
 " That's nothing. She hung a dead coyote at my 
 door. You don't know women. There'll be your 
 breed and hers abroad in the land one day."
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 43 
 
 Macavoy stretched to his feet he was so tall 
 that he could not stand upright in the room. He 
 towered over Pierre, who blandly eyed him. " I've 
 another word for your ear," he said darkly. " Keep 
 clear av the likes o' that wid me. For I've swal- 
 lowed a tribe av divils. It's fightin' you want. 
 Well, I'll do it I've an itch for the throats av men 
 but a fool I'll be no more wid wimin, white or 
 red that hell-cat that spoilt me life an' killed me 
 child, or" 
 
 A sob clutched him in the throat. 
 
 " You had a child, then ? " said Pierre gently. 
 
 " An angel she was, wid hair like the sun, an' 'd 
 melt the heart av an iron god: none like her 
 above or below. But the mother, ah, the mother 
 of her ! One day whin she'd said a sharp word, 
 wid another from me, an' the child clinging to her 
 dress, she turned quick and struck it, meanin' to 
 anger me. Not so hard the blow was, but it sent 
 the darlin's head agin' the chimney-stone, and that 
 was the end av it. For she took to her bed, an' 
 agin' the crowin' o' the cock wan midnight, she 
 gives a little cry an' snatched at me beard. ' Daddy,' 
 says she, 'daddy, it hurts!' An' thin she floats 
 away, wid a stitch av pain at her lips." 
 
 Macavoy sat down now, his fingers fumbling in 
 his beard. Pierre was uncomfortable. He could 
 hear of battle, murder, and sudden death unmoved 
 it seemed to him in the game; but the tragedy
 
 44 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 of a child a mere counter yet in the play of life 
 that was different. He slid a hand over the 
 table, and caught Macavoy's arm. 
 
 " Poor little waif!" he said. 
 
 Macavoy gave the hand a grasp that turned 
 Pierre sick, and asked : " Had ye iver a child av 
 y'r own, Pierre iver wan at all ? " 
 
 " Never," said Pierre dreamily," and I've travelled 
 far. A child a child is a wonderful thing. . . . 
 Poor little waif!" 
 
 They both sat silent for a moment Pierre was 
 about to rise, but Macavoy suddenly pinned him to 
 his seat with this question : " Did y' iver have a wife, 
 thin, Pierre ? " 
 
 Pierre turned pale. A sharp breath came through 
 his teeth. He spoke slowly : " Yes, once." 
 
 " And she died ? " asked the other, awed. 
 
 " We all have our day," he replied enigmatically, 
 " and there are worse things than death. . . . Eh, 
 well, mon ami, let us talk of other things. To- 
 morrow we go to conquer. I know where I can 
 get five men I want. I have ammunition and dogs." 
 
 A few minutes afterwards Pierre was busy in the 
 settlement. At the Fort he heard strange news. A 
 new batch of settlers was coming from the south, 
 and among them was an old Irishwoman who called 
 herself now Mrs. Whelan, now Mrs. Macavoy. She 
 talked much of the lad she was to find, one Tim 
 Macavoy, whose fame Gossip had brought to her
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 45 
 
 at last. She had clung on to the settlers, and they 
 could not shake her off. " She was comin'," she 
 said, " to her own darlin' b'y, from whom she'd been 
 parted many a year, believin' him dead, or Tom 
 Whelan had niver touched hand o' hers." 
 
 The bearer of the news had but just arrived, and 
 he told it only to the Chief Trader and Pierre. At 
 a word from Pierre the man promised to hold his 
 peace. Then Pierre went to Wonta's lodge. He 
 found her with her father alone, her head at her 
 knees. When she heard his voice she looked up 
 sharply, and added a sharp word also. 
 
 " Wait," he said ; " women are such fools. You 
 snapped your fingers in his face, and laughed at 
 him. Well, that is nothing. He has proved himself 
 great. That is something. He will be greater 
 still, if the other woman does not find him. She 
 should die, but then some women have no sense." 
 
 " The other woman ? " said Wonta, starting to 
 her feet ; " who is the other woman ? " 
 
 Old Foot-in-the-Sun waked and sat up, but 
 seeing that it was Pierre, dropped again to sleep. 
 Pierre, he knew, was no peril to any woman. 
 Besides, Wonta hated the half-breed, as he thought. 
 
 Pierre told the girl the story of Macavoy's life ; 
 for he knew that she loved the man after her 
 heathen fashion, and that she could be trusted. 
 
 " I do not care for that," she said, when he had 
 finished ; " it is nothing. I would go with him. I
 
 46 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 should be his wife, the other should die. I would 
 kill her, if she would fight me. 1 know the way of 
 knives, or a rifle, or a pinch at the throat she 
 should die ! " 
 
 " Yes, but that will not do. Keep your hands 
 free of her." 
 
 Then he told her that they were going away. She 
 said she would go also. He said no to that, but 
 told her to wait and he would come back for her. 
 
 Though she tried hard to follow them, they 
 slipped away from the Fort in the moist gloom of 
 the morning, the brown grass rustling, the prairie- 
 hens fluttering, the osiers soughing as they passed, 
 the Spirit of the North, ever hungry, drawing them 
 on over the long Divides. They did not see each 
 other's faces till dawn. They were guided by 
 Pierre's voice ; none knew his comrades. Besides 
 Pierre and Macavoy, there were five half-breeds 
 Noel, Little Babiche, Corvette, Jose\ and Jacques 
 Parfaite. When they came to recognise each other, 
 they shook hands, and marched on. In good time 
 they reached that wonderful and pleasant country 
 between the Barren Grounds and the Lake of 
 Silver Shallows. To the north of it was Fort 
 Comfort, which they had come to take. Macavoy's 
 rich voice roared as of old, before his valour was 
 questioned and maintained at Fort O'Angel. 
 Pierre had diverted his mind from the woman 
 who, at Fort O'Angel, was even now calling
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 47 
 
 heaven and earth to witness that " Tim Macavoy 
 was her Macavoy and no other, an' she'd find him 
 the divil and darlin', wid an arm like Broin 
 Borhoime, an' a chest you could build a house on 
 if she walked till Doomsday ! " 
 
 Macavoy stood out grandly, his fat all gone to 
 muscle, blowing through his beard, puffing his 
 cheek, and ready with tale or song. But now 
 that they were facing the business of their journey, 
 his voice got soft and gentle, as it did before 
 the Fort, when he grappled his foes two by two and 
 three by three, and wrung them out. In his eyes 
 there was the thing which counts as many men in 
 any soldier's sight, when he leads in battle. As 
 he said himself, he was made for war, like Malachi 
 o' the Golden Collar. 
 
 Pierre guessed that just now many of the 
 Indians would be away for the summer hunt, and 
 that the Fort would perhaps be held by only a few 
 score of braves, who, however, would fight when 
 they might easier play. He had no useless com- 
 punctions about bloodshed. A human life he held 
 to be a trifle in the big sum of time, and that it 
 was of little moment when a man went, if it seemed 
 his hour. He lived up to his creed, for he had 
 ever held his own life as a bird upon a housetop, 
 which a chance stone miglit drop. 
 
 He was glad afterwards that he had decided to 
 fight, for there was one in Fort Comfort against
 
 48 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 whom he had an old grudge the Indian, Young 
 Eye, who, many years before, had been one to help 
 in killing the good Father Halen, the priest who 
 dropped the water on his forehead and set the 
 cross on top of that, when he was at his mother's 
 breasts. One by one the murderers had been 
 killed, save this man. He had wandered north, 
 lived on the Coppermine River for a long time, 
 and at length had come down among the warring 
 tribes at the Lake of Silver Shallows. 
 
 Pierre was for direct attack. They crossed the 
 lake in their canoes, at a point about five miles 
 from the Fort, and, so far as they could tell, without 
 being seen. Then ammunition went round, and 
 they marched upon the Fort. Pierre eyed Macavoy 
 measured him, as it were, for what he was worth. 
 The giant seemed happy. He was humming a 
 tune softly through his beard. 
 
 Suddenly Jose 1 paused, dropped to the foot of a 
 pine, and put his ear to it Pierre understood. 
 He had caught at the same thing. " There is a 
 dance on," said Jose", " I can hear the drum." 
 
 Pierre thought a minute. " We will reconnoitre," 
 he said presently. 
 
 " It is near night now," remarked Little Babiche. 
 " I know something of these. When they have a 
 great snake dance at night, strange things happen." 
 Then he spoke in a low tone to Pierre. 
 
 They halted in the bush, and Little Babiche
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 49 
 
 went forward to spy upon the Fort. He came 
 back just after sunset, reporting that the Indians 
 were feasting. He had crept near, and had learned 
 that the braves were expected back from the 
 hunt that night, and that the feast was for their 
 welcome. 
 
 The Fort stood in an open space, with tall trees 
 for a background. In front, here and there, were 
 juniper and tamarac bushes. Pierre laid his plans 
 immediately, and gave the word to move on. 
 Their presence had not been discovered, and if 
 they could but surprise the Indians the Fort 
 might easily be theirs. They made a devour, and 
 after an hour came upon the Fort from behind. 
 Pierre himself went forward cautiously, leaving 
 Macavoy in command. When he came again he 
 said : 
 
 " It's a fine sight, and the way is open. They 
 are feasting and dancing. If we can enter without 
 being seen, we are safe, except for food ; we must 
 trust for that. Come on." 
 
 When they arrived at the margin of the woods 
 a wonderful scene was before them. A volcanic 
 hill rose up on one side, gloomy and stern, but the 
 reflection of the fires reached it, and made its sides 
 quiver the rock itself seemed trembling. The 
 sombre pines showed up, a wall all round-, and in 
 the open space, turreted with fantastic fires, the 
 Indians swayed in and out with weird chanting 
 4
 
 50 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 their bodies mostly naked, and painted in strange 
 colours. The earth itself was still and sober. 
 Scarce a star peeped forth. A purple velvet 
 curtain seamed to hang all down the sky, though 
 here and there the flame bronzed it. The Indian 
 lodges were empty, save where a few children 
 squatted at the openings. The seven stood still 
 with wonder, till Pierre whispered to them to get 
 to the ground and crawl close in by the walls of 
 the Fort, following him. They did so, Macavoy 
 breathing hard too hard ; for suddenly Pierre 
 clapped a hand on his mouth. 
 
 They were now near the Fort, and Pierre had 
 seen an -Indian come from the gate. The brave 
 was within a few feet of them. He had almost 
 passed them, for they were in the shadow, but Jose" 
 had burst a puff-ball with his hand, and the dust, 
 flying up, made him sneeze. The Indian turned 
 and saw them. With a low cry and the spring of 
 a tiger Pierre was at his throat ; and in another 
 minute they were struggling on the ground. 
 Pierre's hand never let go. His comrades did not 
 stir ; he had warned them to lie still. They saw 
 the terrible game played out within arm's length 
 of them. They heard Pierre say at last, as the 
 struggles of the Indian ceased : " Beast ! You had 
 Father Halen's life. I have yours." 
 
 There was one more wrench of the Indian's 
 limbs, and then he lay still.
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 51 
 
 They crawled nearer the gate, still hidden in the 
 shadows and the grass. Presently they came to a 
 clear space. Across this they must go, and enter 
 the Fort before they were discovered. They got to 
 their feet, and ran with wonderful swiftness, Pierre 
 leading, to the gate. They had just reached it 
 when there was a cry from the walls, on which two 
 Indians were sitting. The Indians sprang down, 
 seized their spears, and lunged at the seven as they 
 entered. One spear caught Little Babiche in the 
 arm as he swung aside, but with the butt of his 
 musket Noel dropped him. The other Indian was 
 promptly handled by Pierre himself. By this time 
 Corvette and Jose" had shut the gates, and the 
 Fort was theirs an easy conquest The Indians 
 were bound and gagged. 
 
 The adventurers had done it all without drawing 
 the attention of the howling crowd without. The 
 matter was in its infancy, however. They had the 
 place, but could they hold it? What food and 
 water were there within? Perhaps they were 
 hardly so safe besieged as besiegers. Yet there 
 was no doubt on Pierre's part. He had enjoyed 
 the adventure so far up to the hilt an old promise 
 had been kept, and an old wrong avenged. 
 
 "What's to be done now?" said Macavoy. 
 " There'll be hell's own racket ; and they'll come 
 on like a flood." 
 
 '* To wait," said Pierre, " and dam the flood as it 

 
 52 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 comes. But not a bullet till I give the word. 
 Take to the chinks. We'll have them soon." 
 
 He was right : they came soon. Someone had 
 found the dead body of Young Eye ; then it was 
 discovered that the gate was shut A great shout 
 went up. The Indians ran to their lodges for 
 spears and hatchets, though the weapons of many 
 were within the Fort, and soon they were about the 
 place, shouting in impotent rage. They could not 
 tell how many invaders were in the Fort ; they 
 suspected it was the Little Skins, their ancient 
 enemies. But Young Eye, they saw, had not been 
 scalped. This was brought to the old chief, and 
 he called to his men to fall back. They had not 
 seen one man of the invaders ; all was silent and 
 dark within the Fort ; even the two torches which 
 had been burning above the gate were down. At 
 that moment, as if to add to the strangeness, a 
 caribou came suddenly through the, fires, and. 
 passing not far from the bewildered Indians, plunged 
 into the trees behind the Fort 
 
 The caribou is credited with great powers. It is 
 thought to understand all that is said to it, and to 
 be able to take the form of a spirit No Indian 
 will come near it till it is dead, and he that kills it 
 out of season is supposed to bring down all manner 
 of evil. 
 
 So at this sight they cried out the women 
 falling to the ground with their faces in their arms
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 53 
 
 that the caribou had done this thing. For a 
 moment they were all afraid. Besides, as a brave 
 showed, there was no mark on the body of Young 
 Eye. 
 
 Pierre knew quite well that this was a bull 
 caribou, travelling wildly till he found another 
 herd. He would carry on the deception. " Wail 
 for the dead, as your women do in Ireland. That 
 will finish them," he said to Macavoy. 
 
 The giant threw his voice up and out, so that it 
 seemed to come from over the Fort to the Indians, 
 weird and crying. Even the half-breeds standing 
 by felt a light shock of unnatural excitement. 
 The Indians without drew back slowly from the 
 Fort, leaving a clear space between. Macavoy had 
 uncanny tricks with his voice, and presently he 
 changed the song into a shrill, wailing whistle, 
 which went trembling about the place and then 
 stopped suddenly. 
 
 " Sure, that's a poor game, Pierre," he whispered ; 
 " an' I'd rather be pluggin' their hides wid bullets, 
 or givin' the double-an'-twist. It's fightin' I come 
 for, and not the trick av Mother Kilkevin ! " 
 
 Pierre arranged a plan of campaign at once. 
 Every man looked to his gun, the gates were 
 slowly opened, and Macavoy stepped out Pierre 
 had thrown over the Irishman's shoulders the great 
 skin of a musk-ox which he had found inside the 
 stockade. He was a strange, immense figure, as
 
 54 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 he walked into the open space, and, folding his 
 arms, looked round. In the shadow of the gate 
 behind were Pierre and the half-breeds, with guns 
 cocked. 
 
 Macavoy had lived so long in the north that he 
 knew enough of all the languages to speak to this 
 tribe. When he came out a murmur of wonder 
 ran among the Indians. They had never seen any- 
 one so tall, for they were not great of stature, and 
 his huge beard and wild shock of hair were a 
 wonderful sight. He remained silent, looking on 
 them. At last the old chief spoke. "Who are 
 you ? " 
 
 " I am a great chief from the Hills of the Mighty 
 Men, come to be your king," was his reply. 
 
 " He is your king," cried Pierre in a strange 
 voice from the shadow of the gate, and he thrust 
 out his gun-barrel, so that they could see it 
 
 The Indians now saw Pierre and the half-breeds 
 in the gateway, and they had not so much awe. 
 They came a little nearer, and the women stopped 
 crying. A few of the braves half -raised their 
 spears. Seeing this, Pierre instantly stepped forward 
 to the giant. He looked a child in stature thereby. 
 He spoke quickly and well in the Chinook language. 
 
 " This is a mighty man from the Hills of the 
 Mighty Men. He has come to rule over you, to 
 give all other tribes into your hands ; for he has 
 strength like a thousand, and fears nothing of gods
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 55 
 
 nor men. I have the blood of red men in me. 
 It is I who have called this man from his distant 
 home. I heard of your fighting and foolishness: 
 also that warriors were to come from the south 
 country to scatter your wives and children, and to 
 make you slaves. I pitied you, and I have brought 
 you a chief greater than any other. Throw your 
 spears upon the ground, and all will be well ; but 
 raise one to throw, or one arrow, or axe, and there 
 shall be death among you, so that as a people you 
 shall die. The spirits are with us. ... Well ? " 
 
 The Indians drew a little nearer, but they did 
 not drop their spears, for the old chief forbade 
 them. 
 
 " We are no dogs nor cowards," he said, " though 
 the spirits be with you, as we believe. We have 
 seen strange things " he pointed to Young Eye 
 " and heard voices not of men ; but we would see 
 great things as well as strange. There are seven 
 men of the Little Skins tribe within a lodge yonder. 
 They were to die when our braves returned from 
 the hunt, and for that we prepared the feast. But 
 this mighty man, he shall fight them all at once, 
 and if he kills them he shall be our king. In the 
 name of my tribe I speak. And this other," point- 
 ing to Pierre, "he shall also fight with a strong 
 man of our tribe, so that we shall know if you are 
 all brave, and not as those who crawl at the knees 
 of the mighty."
 
 56 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 This was more than Pierre had bargained for. 
 Seven men at Macavoy, and Indians too, fighting 
 for their lives, was a contract of weight. But 
 Macavoy was blowing in his beard cheerfully 
 enough. 
 
 " Let me choose me ground," he said, " wid me 
 back to the wall, an' I'll take thim as they come:" 
 
 Pierre instantly interpreted this to the Indians, 
 and said for himself that he would welcome their 
 strongest man at the point of a knife when he 
 chose. 
 
 The chief gave an order, and the Little Skins 
 were brought. The fires still burned brightly, 
 and the breathing of the pines, as a slight wind 
 rose and stirred them, came softly over. The 
 Indians stood off at the command of the chief. 
 Macavoy drew back to the wall, dropped the 
 musk-ox skin to the ground, and stripped himself 
 to the waist. But in his waistband there was 
 what none of these Indians had ever seen a 
 small revolver that barked ever so softly. In the 
 hands of each Little Skin there was put a knife, 
 and they were told their cheerful exercise. They 
 came on cautiously, and then suddenly closed in, 
 knives flashing. But Macavoy's little bulldog 
 barked, and one dropped to the ground. The 
 others fell back. The wounded man drew up, 
 made a lunge at Macavoy, but missed him. As 
 if ashamed, the other six came on again at a
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 57 
 
 spring. But again the weapon did its work 
 smartly, and one more came down. Now the 
 giant put it away, ran in upon the five, and cut 
 right and left. So sudden and massive was his 
 rush that they had no chance. Three fell at his 
 blows, and then he drew back swiftly to the 'wall. 
 " Drop your knives," he said, as they cowered, " or 
 I'll kill you all." They did so. He dropped his 
 own. 
 
 " Now come on, ye scuts ! " he cried, and 
 suddenly he reached and caught them, one with 
 each arm, and wrestled with them, till he bent the 
 one like a willow rod, and dropped him with a 
 broken back, while the other was at his mercy. 
 Suddenly loosing him, he turned him towards the 
 woods, and said : " Run, ye rid divil, run for y'r life !" 
 
 A dozen spears were raised, but the rifles of 
 Pierre's men came in between : the Indian reached 
 cover and was gone. Of the six others, two had 
 been killed, the rest were severely wounded, and 
 Macavoy had not a scratch. 
 
 Pierre smiled grimly. " You've been doing all 
 the fighting, Macavoy," he said. 
 
 " There's no bein' a king for nothin'," he replied, 
 wiping blood from his beard. 
 
 " It's my turn now, but keep your rifles ready, 
 though I think there's no need." 
 
 Pierre had but a short minute with the 
 champion, for he was an expert with the knife
 
 58 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 He carried away four fingers of the Indian's 
 fighting hand, and that ended it; for the next 
 instant the point was at the red man's throat. 
 The Indian stood to take it like a man ; but Pierre 
 loved that kind of courage, and shot the knife into 
 its sheath instead. 
 
 The old chief kept his word, and after the spears 
 were piled, he shook hands with Macavoy, as did 
 his braves one by one, and they were all moved by 
 the sincerity of his grasp : their arms were useless 
 for some time after. They hailed as their ruler, 
 King Macavoy I. ; for men are like dogs they 
 worship him who beats them. The feasting and 
 dancing went on till the hunters came back. Then 
 there was a wild scene, but in the end all the 
 hunters, satisfied, came to greet their new king. 
 
 The king himself went to bed in the Fort that 
 night, Pierre and his bodyguard by name Noel, 
 Little Babiche, Corvette, Jose", and Parfaite its 
 only occupants, singing joyfully 
 
 "Did yees iver hear tell o' Long Barney, 
 That come from the groves o' Killarney? 
 He wint for a king, oh, he wint for a king, 
 But he niver kern back to Killarney 
 Wid his crown, an' his soord, an' his army 1 * 
 
 As a king Macavoy was a success, for the brag 
 had gone from him. Like all his race he had 
 faults as a subject, but the responsibility of ruling 
 set him right He found in the Fort an old sword
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 59 
 
 and belt, left by some Hudson's Bay Company's 
 man, and these he furbished up and wore. 
 
 With Pierre's aid he drew up a simple constitu- 
 tion, which he carried in the crown of his cap, and 
 he distributed beads and gaudy trappings as 
 marlcs of honour. Nor did he forget the frequent 
 pipe of peace, made possible to all by generous 
 gifts of tobacco. Anyone can found a kingdom 
 abaft the Barren Grounds with tobacco, beads, 
 and red flannel. 
 
 For very many weeks it was a happy kingdom. 
 But presently Pierre yawned, and was ready to 
 return. Three of the half-breeds were inclined to 
 go with him. Jose* and Little Babiche had formed 
 alliances which held them there besides, King 
 Macavoy needed them. 
 
 On the eve of Pierre's departure a notable 
 thing occurred. 
 
 A young brave had broken his leg in hunting, 
 had been picked up by a band of another tribe, 
 and carried south. He found himself at last at 
 Fort O'Angel. There he had met Mrs. Whelan, 
 and for presents of tobacco, and purple and fine 
 linen, he had led her to her consort. That was 
 how the king and Pierre met her in the yard of Fort 
 Comfort one evening of early autumn. Pierre saw 
 her first, and was for turning the King about and 
 getting him away ; but it was too late. Mrs. 
 Whelan had seen him, and she called out at him :
 
 60 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " Oh, Tim ! me jool ! me king ! have I found ye, 
 me imp'ror ! " 
 
 She ran at him, to throw her arms round him. 
 He stepped back, the red of his face going white, 
 and said, stretching out his hand, " Woman, y'are 
 me wife, I know, whativer y' be ; an' y've right 
 to have shelter and bread av me ; but me arms, 
 an' me bed, are me own to kape or to give ; and, 
 by God, ye shall have nay ther one nor the other ! 
 There's a ditch as wide as hell betune us ! " 
 
 The Indians had gathered quickly; they filled 
 the yard, and' crowded the gate. The woman 
 went wild, for she had been drinking. She ran at 
 Macavoy and spat in his face, and called down 
 such a curse on him as, whoever hears, be he one 
 that's cursed or any other, shudders at till he dies. 
 Then she fell in a fit at his feet. Macavoy turned 
 to the Indians, stretched out his hands and tried 
 to speak, but could not. He stooped down, 
 picked up the woman, carried her into the Fort, 
 and laid her on a bed of skins. 
 
 " What will you do ? " asked Pierre. 
 " She is my wife," he answered firmly. 
 " She lived with Whelan." 
 
 " She must be cared for," was the reply. Pierre 
 looked at him with a curious quietness. " I'll get 
 liquor for her," he said presently. He started to 
 go, but turned and felt the woman's pulse. " You 
 would keep her ? " he asked
 
 THE FILIBUSTER 61 
 
 " Bring the liquor." Macavoy reached for water, 
 and dipping the sleeve of his shirt in it, wetted 
 her face gently. 
 
 Pierre brought the liquor, but he knew that the 
 woman would die. He stayed with Macavoy 
 beside her all the night. Towards morning her 
 eyes opened, and she shivered greatly. 
 
 " It's bither cold," she said. " You'll put more 
 wood on the fire, Tim, for the babe must be kept 
 warrum." 
 
 She thought she was at Malahide. 
 
 "Oh, wurra, wurra! but 'tis freezin'!" she said 
 again. " Why d'ye kape the door opin whin the 
 child's perishin'?" 
 
 Macavoy sat looking at her, his trouble shaking 
 him. 
 
 " I'll shut the door meself, thin," she added ; 
 " for 'twas I that lift it opin, Tim." She started 
 up, but gave a cry like a wailing wind, and fell 
 back. 
 
 " The door is shut," said Pierre. 
 
 " But the child ! the child ! " said Macavoy, his 
 tears running down his face and beard.
 
 The Gift of the Simple King 
 I 
 
 ONCE Macavoy the giant ruled a tribe of 
 Northern people, achieving the dignity 
 by the hands of Pierre, who called him King 
 Macavoy. Then came a time when, tiring of his 
 kingship, he journeyed south, leaving all behind, 
 even his queen, Wonta, who, in her bed of cypresses 
 and yarrow, came forth no more into the morning. 
 About Fort Guidon they still gave him his title, 
 and because of his guilelessness, sincerity, and 
 generosity, Pierre called him " The Simple King." 
 His seven feet and over shambled about, suggest- 
 ing unjointed power, unshackled force. No one 
 hated Macavoy, many loved him, he was welcome 
 at the fire and the cooking - pot ; yet it seemed 
 shameful to have so much man useless such an 
 engine of life, which might do great things, wast- 
 ing fuel. Nobody thought much of that at Fort 
 Guidon, except, perhaps, Pierre, who sometimes 
 said, " My simple king, some day you shall have 
 your great chance again ; but not as a king as a 
 giant, a man." 
 
 63
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 63 
 
 The day did not come immediately, but it came. 
 
 When Ida, the deaf and dumb girl, married 
 Hilton, of the H.B.C., every man at Fort Guidon, 
 and some from posts beyond, sent her or brought 
 her presents of one kind or another. Pierre's gift 
 was a Mexican saddle. He was branding Ida's 
 
 name on it with the broken blade of a case-knife 
 
 x 
 
 when Macavoy entered on him, having just re- 
 turned from a vagabond visit to Fort Ste. Anne. 
 
 " Is it digging out or carvin' in y'are?" he asked, 
 puffing into his beard. 
 
 Pierre looked up contemptuously, but did not 
 reply to the insinuation, for he never saw an insult 
 unless he intended to avenge it; and he would 
 not quarrel with Macavoy. 
 
 " What are you going to give ? " he asked. 
 
 "Aw, give what to who, hop-o'-me-thumb?" 
 Macavoy said, stretching himself out in the door- 
 way, his legs in the sun, his head in the shade. 
 
 "You've been taking a walk in the country, 
 then ? " Pierre asked, though he knew. 
 
 "To Fort Ste. Anne : a buryin', two christ'nin's, 
 an' a weddin' ; an' lashin's av grog an* swill aw 
 that, me button o' the North ! " 
 
 " Hey 1 What a fool you are, my simple king ! 
 You've got the things end foremost Turn your head 
 to the open air, for I go to light a cigarette, and if 
 you breathe this way, there will be a grand explode ! " 
 
 "Aw, yer thumb in yer eye, Pierre! It's like a
 
 64 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 baby's, me breath is, milk and honey it is aw yis ; 
 an' Father Corraine, that was doin' the trick for 
 the love o' God, says he to me, ' Little Tim 
 Macavoy,' aw yis, little Tim Macavoy, says he, 
 ' when are you goin' to buckle to, for the love o' 
 God !' says he. Ashamed I was, Pieire, that Father 
 Corraine should spake to me like that, for I'd only 
 a twig twisted at me hips to kape me trousies up, 
 an' I thought 'twas that he had in his eye! 'Buckle 
 to,' says I, 'Father Corraine? Buckle to, yer 
 riv'rince?' feelin' I was at the twigs the while. 
 ' Ay, little Tim Macavoy,' he says, says he, ' you've 
 bin atin' the husks av idleness long enough ; 
 when are you goin' to buckle to? You had a 
 kingdom and ye guv it up,' says he ; ' take a field, 
 get a plough, and buckle to,' says he, 'an' turn 
 back no more ! ' like that, says Father Corraine ; 
 and I thinkin' all the time 'twas the want o' me 
 belt he was drivin' at ! " 
 
 Pierre looked at him a moment idly, then said : 
 " Such a torn - fool ! And where's that grand 
 leather belt of yours, eh, my monarch ? " 
 
 A laugh shook through Macavoy's beard. " For 
 the weddin' it wint: buckled the two up wid it for 
 better or worse an' purty they looked, they did, 
 standin' there in me cinch, an' one hole left aw 
 yis, Pierre ! " 
 
 " And what do you give to Ida ? " Pierre asked, 
 with a little emphasis of the branding-iron.
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 65 
 
 Macavoy got to his feet. " Ida ! Ida ! " said he. 
 "Is that saddle for Ida? Is it her and Hilton 
 that's to ate aff one dish togither ? That rose o' 
 the valley, that bird wid a song in her face and 
 none an her tongue ! That daisy dot av a thing, 
 steppin' through the world like a sprig o' glory ! 
 Aw, Pierre, thim two! an' I've divil a scrap to 
 give, good or bad. I've nothin' at all in the wide 
 wurruld but the clothes on me back, an' thim 
 hangin' on the underbrush ! " giving a little twist 
 to the twigs. "An' many a meal an' many a 
 dipper o' drink she's guv me, little smiles dancin' 
 at her lips." 
 
 He sat down in the doorway again, with his face 
 turned towards Pierre, and the back of his head in 
 the sun. He was a picture of perfect health, 
 sumptuous, huge, a bull in beauty, the heart of a 
 child looking out of his eyes, but a sort of despair, 
 too, in his bearing. 
 
 Pierre watched him with a furtive humour for a 
 time, then he said languidly : " Never mind your 
 clothes, give yourself." 
 
 " Yer tongue in yer cheek, me spot o' vinegar. 
 Give meself! What's that for? A purty weddin' 
 gift, says I ? Handy thing to have in the house ! 
 Use me for a clothes-horse, or shtand me in the 
 garden for a fairy bower ! aw yis, wid a hole in 
 me face that'd ate thim out o' house and home ! " 
 
 Pierre drew a piece of brown paper towards him, 
 5
 
 66 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 and wrote on it with a burnt match. Presently he 
 held it up. " Voila, my simple king, the thing for 
 you to do : a grand gift, and to cost you nothing 
 now. Come, read it out, and tell me what you think." 
 
 Macavoy took the paper, and in a large, judicial 
 way, read slowly: 
 
 " On demand, for value received, I promise to 
 pay to . .IDA HILTON . . . or order, 
 meself, Tim Macavoy, standin' seven foot three on 
 me bare fut, wid interest at not/tin* at all" 
 
 Macavoy ended with a loud smack of the lips. 
 " M c Guire ! " he said, and nothing more. 
 
 M'Guire was his strongest expression. In the 
 most important moments of his career he had said 
 it, and it sounded deep, strange, and more powerful 
 than many usual oaths. A moment later he 
 said again : " M c Guire ! " Then he read the paper 
 once more out loud. " What's that, me Frinch- 
 man?" he said. "What Ballzeboob's tricks are 
 y'at now ? " 
 
 Pierre was complacently eyeing his handiwork 
 on the saddle. He now settled back with his 
 shoulders to the wall, and said : " See, then, it's a 
 little promissory note for a wedding-gift to Ida. 
 When she says some day, ' Tim Macavoy, I want 
 you to do this or that, or to go here or there, or to 
 sell you or trade you, or use you for a clothes- 
 horse, or a bridge over a canyon, or to hold up a 
 house, or blow out a prairie-fire, or be my second
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 67 
 
 husband,' you shall say, ' Here I am ' ; and you 
 shall travel from Heaven to Halifax, but you shall 
 come at the call of this promissory ! " 
 
 Pierre's teeth glistened behind a smile as he 
 spoke, and Macavoy broke into a roar of laughter. 
 " Black's the white o' yer tye," he said at last, " an' 
 a joke's a joke. Seven fut three I am, an' sound 
 av wind an' limb an' a weddin'-gift to that swate 
 rose o' the valley ! Aisy, aisy, Pierre. A bit o' 
 foolin' 'twas ye put on the paper, but truth I'll 
 make it, me cock o' the walk ! That's me gift to 
 her an' Hilton, an' no other. An' a dab wid red 
 wax it shall have, an' what more be the word o' 
 Freddy Tarlton the lawyer ? " 
 
 " You're a great man," said Pierre with a touch 
 of gentle irony, for his natural malice had no play 
 against the huge ex -king of his own making. 
 With these big creatures he had connived with 
 several in his time he had ever been superior, 
 protective, making them to feel that they were as 
 children beside him. He looked at Macavoy 
 musingly, and said to himself : " Well, why not ? 
 If it is a joke, then it is a joke ; if it is a thing to 
 make the world stand still for a minute sometime, 
 so much the better. He is all waste now. By the 
 holy, he shall do it. It is amusing, and it may be 
 great by and by." 
 
 Presently Pierre said aloud : " Well, my Macavoy, 
 what will you do? Send this good gift?"
 
 68 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " Aw yis, Pierre ; I shtand by that from the 
 crown av me head to the sole av me fut sure. 
 Face like a mornin' in May, and hands like the 
 tunes of an organ, she has. Spakes wid a look av 
 her eye and a twist av her purty lips an' swaying 
 body, an' talkin' to you widout a word. Aw 
 motion motion motion ; yis, that's it. An' I've 
 seen her an tap av a hill wid the wind blowin' her 
 hair free, and the yellow buds on the tree, and the 
 grass green beneath her feet, the world smilin' betune 
 her and the sun : pictures pictures, aw yis 1 Pro- 
 missory notice on demand is it anny toime ? Seven 
 fut three on me bare toes but, Father o' Sin! 
 when she calls I come, yis." 
 
 " On your oath, Macavoy ? " asked Pierre ; " by 
 the book av the Mass ? " 
 
 Macavoy stood up straight till his head scraped 
 the cobwebs between the rafters, the wild indigna- 
 tion of a child in his eye. " D'ye think I'm a thafe, 
 to stale me own word ? Hut ! I'll break ye in two, 
 ye wisp o' straw, if ye doubt me word to a lady. 
 There's me note av hand, and ye shall have me fist 
 on it, in writin', at Freddy Tarlton's office, wid a 
 blotch av red an' the Queen's head at the bottom. 
 M'Guire ! " he said again, and paused, puffing his 
 lips through his beard. 
 
 Pierre looked at him a moment, then waving his 
 fingers idly, said, " So, my straw-breaker ! Then 
 to-morrow morning at ten you will fetch your
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 69 
 
 wedding-gift. But come so soon now to M'sieu' 
 Tarlton's office, and we will have it all as you say, 
 with the red seal and the turn of your fist yes. 
 Well, well, we travel far in the world, and some- 
 times we see strange things, and no two strange 
 things are alike no; there is only one Macavoy 
 in the world, there was only one Shon M'Gann. 
 Shon M'Gann was a fine fool, but he did some- 
 thing at last, truly yes : Tim Macavoy, perhaps, 
 will do something at last on his own hook. Hey, 
 I wonder ! " 
 
 He felt the muscles of Macavoy's arm musingly, 
 and then laughed up in the giant's face. " Once 
 I made you a king, my own, and you threw it 
 all away ; now I make you a slave, and we 
 shall see what you will do. Come along, for 
 M'sieu' Tarlton." 
 
 Macavoy dropped a heavy hand on Pierre's 
 shoulder. 
 
 " 'Tis hard to be a king, Pierre, but 'tis aisy to be 
 
 a slave for the likes o' her. I'd kiss her dirty shoe 
 
 i " 
 sure ! 
 
 As they passed through the door, Pierre said, 
 " Dis done, perhaps, when all is done, she will sell 
 you for old bones and rags. Then I will buy you, 
 and I will burn your bones and the rags, and I will 
 scatter to the four winds of the earth the ashes of 
 a king, a slave, a fool, and an Irishman, truly 1 " 
 
 " Bedad, ye'll have more earth in yer hands then,
 
 70 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Pierre, than ye'll ever earn, and more heaven than 
 ye'll ever shtand in." 
 
 Half an hour later they were in Freddy Tarlton's 
 office on the banks of the Little Big Swan, which 
 tumbled past, swelled by the first rain of the early 
 autumn. .Freddy Tarlton, who had a gift of 
 humour, entered into the spirit of the thing, and 
 treated it seriously ; but in vain did he protest 
 that the large red seal with Her Majesty's head on 
 it was unnecessary ; Macavoy insisted, and wrote 
 his name across it with a large indistinctness 
 worthy of a king. Before the night was over every- 
 body at Guidon Hill, save Hilton and Ida, knew 
 what gift would come from Macavoy to the wedded 
 pair. 
 
 II 
 
 The next morning was almost painfully beauti- 
 ful, so delicate in its clearness, so exalted by the 
 glory of the hills, so grand in the limitless stretch 
 of the green-brown prairie north and south. It 
 was a day for God's creatures to meet in, and speed 
 away, and having flown round the boundaries of 
 that spacious domain, to return again to the nest 
 of home on the large plateau between the sea and 
 the stars. Gathered about Ida's home was every- 
 body who lived within a radius of a hundred miles. 
 In the large front room all the presents were set : 
 rich furs from the far north, cunningly carved bowls,
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 71 
 
 rocking-chairs made by hand, knives, cooking 
 utensils, a copy of Shakespeare in six volumes 
 from the Protestant missionary who performed the 
 ceremony, a nugget of gold from the Long Light 
 River ; and outside the door, a horse, Hilton's own 
 present to his wife, on which was put Pierre's 
 saddle, with its silver mounting and Ida's name 
 branded deep on pommel and flap. When Macavoy 
 arrived, a cheer went up, which was carried on 
 waves of laughter into the house to Hilton and 
 Ida, who even then were listening to the first 
 words of the brief service which begins, " / charge 
 you both if you do know any just cause or impedi- 
 ment " and so on. 
 
 They did not turn to see what it was, for 
 just at that moment they themselves were 
 the very centre of the universe. Ida being 
 deaf and dumb, it was necessary to interpret to 
 her the words of the service by signs, as the 
 missionary read it, and this was done by Pierre 
 himself, the half-breed Catholic, the man who had 
 brought Hilton and Ida together, for he and Ida 
 had been old friends. After Father Corraine had 
 taught her the language of signs, Pierre had learned 
 them from her, until at last his gestures had 
 become as vital as her own. The delicate pre- 
 cision of his every movement, the suggestiveness 
 of look and motion, were suited to a language 
 which was nearer to the instincts of his own nature
 
 72 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 than word of mouth. All men did not trust Pierre, 
 but all women did ; with those he had a touch of 
 Machiavelli, with these he had no sign of Mephis- 
 topheles, and few were the occasions in his life 
 when he showed outward tenderness to either : 
 which was equally effective. He had learnt, or 
 knew by instinct, that exclusiveness as to men and 
 indifference as to women are the greatest influences 
 on both. As he stood there, slowly interpreting 
 to Ida, by graceful allusive signs, the words of the 
 service, one could not think that behind his im- 
 passive face there was any feeling for the man or 
 for the woman. He had that disdainful smile 
 which men acquire, who are all their lives aloof 
 from the hopes of the hearthstone, and acknowledge 
 no laws but their own. 
 
 More than once the eyes of the girl filled with 
 tears, as the pregnancy of some phrase in the 
 service came home to her. Her face responded to 
 Pierre's gestures, as do one's nerves to the delights 
 of good music, and there was something so unique, 
 so impressive in the ceremony, that the laughter 
 which had greeted Macavoy passed away, and a 
 dead silence, beginning from where the two stood, 
 crept out until it covered all the prairie. Nothing 
 was heard except Hilton's voice in strong tones 
 saying, "/ take thee to be my wedded wife" etc., 
 but when the last words of the service were said, 
 and the new-made bride turned to her husband's
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 73 
 
 embrace, and a little sound of joy broke from her 
 lips, there was plenty of noise and laughter again, 
 for Macavoy stood in the doorway, or rather out- 
 side it, stooping to look in upon the scene. Some- 
 one had lent him the cinch of a broncho, and he 
 had belted himself with it, no longer carrying his 
 clothes about "on the underbrush," Hilton laughed 
 and stretched out his hand. "Come in, King," he 
 said, " come and wish us joy." 
 
 Macavoy parted the crowd easily, forcing his 
 way, and instantly was stooping before the pair 
 for he could not stand upright in the room. 
 
 " Aw, now, Hilton, is it you, is it you, that's 
 pluckin' the roses av the valley, snatchin' the stars 
 out av the sky! aw, Hilton, the like o' that! 
 Travel down 1 did yesterday from Fort Ste. Anne, 
 and divil a word I knew till Pierre hit me in the 
 eye wid it last night and no time for a present, 
 for a wedding-gift no, aw no ! " 
 
 Just here Ida reached up and touched him on 
 the shoulder. He smiled down on her, puffing and 
 blowing in his beard, bursting to speak to her, yet 
 knowing no word by signs to say ; but he nodded 
 his head at her, and he patted Hilton's shoulder, 
 and he took their hands and joined th^-m together, 
 hers on top of Hilton's, and shook them in one of 
 his own till she almost winced. Presently, with a 
 look at Hilton, who nodded in reply, Ida lifted her 
 cheek to Macavoy to kiss Macavoy, the idle, ill-
 
 74 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 cared-for, boisterous giant. His face became red 
 like that of a child caught in an awkvv.ird act, and 
 with an absurd shyness he stooped and touched her 
 cheek. Then he turned to Hilton, and blurted out, 
 " Aw, the rose o' the valley, the pride o' the wide 
 wurruld ! aw, the bloom o' the hills ! I'd have 
 kissed her dirty shoe. M c Guire I " 
 
 A burst of laughter rolled out on the clear air of 
 the prairie, and the hills seemed to stir with the 
 pleasure of life. Then it was that Macavoy, follow- 
 ing Hilton and Ida outside, suddenly stopped 
 beside the horse, drew from his pocket the pro- 
 missory note that Pierre had written, and said, 
 "Yis, but all the weddin'- gifts aren't in. 'Tis 
 nothin' I had to give divil a cent in the wurruld, 
 divil a pound av baccy, or a pot for the fire, or a 
 bit av linin for the table ; nothin' but meself and 
 me dirty clothes, standin' seven fut three an me 
 bare toes. What was I to do ? There was only 
 meself to give, so I give it free and hearty, and 
 here it is wid the Queen's head an it, done in Mr. 
 Tarlton's office. Ye'd better have had a dog, or a 
 gun, or a ladder, or a horse, or a saddle, or a quart 
 o' brown brandy ; but such as it is I give it ye I 
 give it to the rose o' the valley and the star o' the 
 wide wurruld." 
 
 In a loud voice he read the promissory note, and 
 handed it to Ida. Men laughed till there were 
 tears in their eyes, and a keg of whisky was
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 75 
 
 opened ; but somehow Ida did not laugh. She 
 and Pierre had seen a serious side to Macavoy's 
 gift : the childlike manliness in it. It went home 
 to her woman's heart without a touch of ludicrous- 
 ness, without a sound of laughter. 
 
 Ill 
 
 After a time the interest in this wedding-gift 
 declined at Fort Guidon, and but three people 
 remembered it with any singular distinctness Ida, 
 Pierre, and Macavoy. Pierre was interested, for in 
 his primitive mind he knew that, however wild a 
 promise, life is so wild in its events, there comes 
 the hour for redemption of all I O U's. 
 
 Meanwhile, weeks, months, and even a couple of 
 years passed, Macavoy and Pierre coming and 
 going, sometimes together, sometimes not, in all 
 manner of words at war, in all manner of fact at 
 peace. And Ida, out of the bounty of her nature, 
 gave the two vagabonds a place at her fireside 
 whenever they chose to come. Perhaps, where 
 speech was not given, a gift of divination entered 
 into her instead, and she valued what others found 
 useless, and held aloof from what others found 
 good. She had powers which had ever been the 
 admiration of Guidon Hill. Birds and animals 
 were her friends she called them her kinsmen, 
 A peculiar sympathy joined them ; so that when,
 
 76 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 at last, she tamed a white wild duck, and made it 
 do the duties of a carrier-pigeon, no one thought it 
 strange. 
 
 Up in the hills, beside the White Sun River, 
 lived her sister and her sister's children ; and, by 
 and by, the duck carried messages back and 
 forth, so that when, in the winter, Ida's health 
 became delicate, she had comfort in the solicitude 
 and cheerfulness of her sister, and the gaiety of the 
 young birds of her nest, who sent Ida many a 
 sprightly message and tales of their good vagrancy 
 in the hills. In these days Pierre and Macavoy 
 were little at the Post, save now and then to sit 
 with Hilton beside the fire, waiting for spring and 
 telling tales. Upon Hilton had settled that peace- 
 ful, abstracted expectancy which shows man at his 
 best, as he waits for the time when, through the 
 half-lights of his fatherhood, he shall see the broad 
 fine dawn of motherhood spreading up the world 
 which, all being said and done, is that place called 
 Home. Something gentle came over him while 
 he grew stouter in body and in all other ways made 
 a larger figure among the people of the West. 
 
 As Pierre said, whose wisdom was more to be 
 trusted than his general morality, " It is strange 
 that most men think not enough of themselves till 
 a woman shows them how. But it is the great 
 wonder that the woman does not despise him for 
 it ,Quel caractere I She has so often to show him
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 77 
 
 his way like a babe, and yet she says to him, Mon 
 grand komme ! my master ! my lord ! Pshaw ! I 
 have often thought that women are half saints, 
 half fools, and men half fools, half rogues. But, 
 quelle vie I what life! without a woman you are 
 half a man ; with one you are bound to a single 
 spot in the world, you are tied by the leg, your 
 wing is clipped you cannot have all. Quelle vie ! 
 what life ! " 
 
 To this Macavoy said : " Spit-spat ! But what 
 the devil good does all yer thinkin' do ye, Pierre ? 
 It's argufy here and argufy there, an' while yer at 
 that, me an' the rest av us is squeezin' the fun out 
 o' life. Aw, go 'long wid ye. Y'are only a bit o' 
 hell and grammar, annyway. Wid all yer cuttin' 
 and carvin' things to see the internals av thim, I'd 
 do more to the call av a woman's ringer than for 
 all the logic and knowalogy y' ever chewed an 1 
 there y'are, me little tailor o' jur'sprudince! " 
 
 * To the finger call of Hilton's wife, eh?" 
 
 Macavoy was not quite sure what Pierre's enig- 
 matical tone meant A wild light showed in his 
 eyes, and his tongue blundered out: " Yis, Hilton's 
 wife's finger, or a look av her eye, or nothin' at all. 
 Aisy, aisy, ye wasp ! ye'd go stalkin' divils in hell 
 for her yerself, so ye would. But the tongue av ye 
 hut, it's gall to the tip ! " 
 
 " Maybe, my king. But I'd go hunting because 
 I wanted ; you because you must. You're a slave
 
 78 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 to come and to go, with a Queen's seal on the 
 promissory." 
 
 Macavoy leaned back and roared. " Aw, that i 
 The rose o' the valley ! the joy o' the wurruld ! S't, 
 Pierre " his voice grew softer on a sudden, as a 
 fresh thought came to him "did y' ever think 
 that the child might be dumb like the mother?" 
 
 This was a day in the early spring, when the 
 snows were melting in the hills, and freshets were 
 sweeping down the valleys far and near. That 
 night a warm heavy rain came on, and in the 
 morning every stream and river was swollen to 
 twice its size. The mountains seemed to have 
 stripped themselves of snow, and the vivid sun 
 began at once to colour the foothills with green. 
 As Pierre and Macavoy stood at their door, look- 
 ing out upon the earth cleansing itself, Macavoy 
 suddenly said : " Aw, look, look, Pierre her white 
 duck off to the nest on Champak Hill ! " 
 
 They both shaded their eyes with their hands. 
 Circling round two or three times above the Post, 
 the duck then stretched out its neck to the west, 
 and floated away beyond Guidon Hill, and was hid 
 from view. Pierre, without a word, began cleaning 
 his rifle, while Macavoy smoked, and sat looking 
 into the distance, surveying the sweet warmth and 
 light. His face blossomed with colour, and the 
 look of his eyes was that of an irresponsible child. 
 Once or twice he smiled and puffed in his beard,
 
 79 
 
 but perhaps that was involuntary, or was, maybe, 
 a vague reflection of his dreams, themselves most 
 vague, for he was only soaking in sun and air and 
 life. 
 
 Within an hour they saw the wild duck again 
 passing the crest of Guidon, and they watched it 
 sailing down to the Post, Pierre idly fondling the 
 gun, Macavoy half roused from his dreams. But 
 presently they were altogether roused, the gun 
 was put away, and both were on their feet ; for 
 after the pigeon arrived there was a stir at the 
 Post, and Hilton could be seen running from the 
 store to his house, not far away. 
 
 " Something's wrong there," said Pierre. 
 
 " D'ye think 'twas the duck brought it ? " asked 
 Macavoy. 
 
 Without a word Pierre started away towards the 
 Post, Macavoy following. As they did so, a half- 
 breed boy came from the house, hurrying towards 
 them. 
 
 Inside the house Hilton's wife lay in her bed, 
 her great hour coming on before the time, because 
 of ill news from beyond the Guidon. There was 
 with her an old Frenchwoman, who herself, in her 
 time, had brought many children into the world, 
 whose heart brooded tenderly, if uncouthly, over 
 the dumb girl. She it was who had handed to 
 Hilton the paper the wild duck had brought, after 
 Ida had read it and fallen in a faint on the floor.
 
 8o AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 The message that had felled the young wife was 
 brief and awful. A cloud-burst had fallen on 
 Champak Hill, had torn part of it away, and a 
 part of this part had swept down into the path 
 that led to the little house, having been stopped by 
 some falling trees and a great boulder. It blocked 
 the only way to escape above, and beneath, the 
 river was creeping up to sweep away the little 
 house. So, there the mother and her children 
 waited (the father was in the farthest north), facing 
 death below and above. The wild duck had 
 carried the tale in its terrible simplicity. The 
 last words were, " There mayn't be any help 
 for me and my sweet chicks, but I am still 
 hoping, and you must send a man or many. 
 But send soon, for we are cut off, and the end 
 may come any hour." 
 
 Macavoy and Pierre were soon at the Post, and 
 knew from Hilton all there was to know. At 
 once Pierre began to gather men, though what one 
 or many could do none could say. Eight white 
 men and three Indians watched the wild duck 
 
 iling away again from the bedroom window 
 where Ida lay, to carry a word of comfort to 
 Champak Hill. Before it went, Ida asked for 
 Macavoy, and he was brought to her bedroom by 
 Hilton. He saw a pale, almost unearthly, yet 
 beautiful face, flushing and paling with a coming 
 agony, looking up at him ; and presently tvvc
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 81 
 
 trembling hands made those mystic signs which 
 are the primal language of the soul. Hilton in- 
 terpreted to him this : " I have sent for you. 
 There is no man so big or strong as you in the 
 north. I did not know that I should ever ask 
 you to redeem the note. I want my gift, and I 
 will give you your paper with the Queen's head 
 on it. Those little lives, those pretty little dears, 
 you will not see them die. If there is a way, any 
 way, you will save them. Sometimes one man 
 can do what twenty cannot You were my 
 wedding-gift : I claim you now." 
 
 She paused, and then motioned to the nurse, 
 who laid the piece of brown paper in Macavoy's 
 hand. He held it for a moment as delicately 
 as if it were a fragile bit of glass, something 
 that his huge fingers might crush by touching. 
 Then he reached over and laid it on the bed 
 beside her and said, looking Hilton in the eyes, 
 " Tell her, the slip av a saint she is ! if the breakin' 
 av me bones, or the lettin' av me blood's what'll 
 set all right at Champak Hill, let her mind be 
 aisy aw yis ! " 
 
 Soon afterwards they were all on their way all 
 save Hilton, whose duty was beside this other 
 danger, for the old nurse said that, " like as not," 
 her life would hang upon the news from Champak 
 Hill ; and if ill came, his place was beside the 
 speechless traveller on the Brink.
 
 82 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 In a few hours the rescuers stood on the top of 
 Champak Hill, looking down. There stood the 
 little house, as it were, between two dooms. Even 
 Pierre's face became drawn and pale as he saw 
 what a very few hours or minutes might do. 
 Macavoy had spoken no word, had answered no 
 question since they had left the Post. There was 
 in his eye the large seriousness, the intentness 
 which might be found in the face of a brave boy, 
 who had not learned fear, and yet saw a vast ditch 
 of danger at which he must leap. There was ever 
 before him the face of the dumb wife ; there was in 
 his ears the sound of pain that had followed him 
 from Hilton's house out into the brilliant day. 
 
 The men stood helpless, and looked at each 
 other. They could not say to the river that it 
 must rise no farther, and they could not go to the 
 house, nor let a rope down, and there was the 
 crumbled moiety of the hill which blocked the way 
 to the house : elsewhere it was sheer precipice 
 without trees. 
 
 There was no corner in these hills that Macavoy 
 and Pierre did not know, and at last, when despair 
 seemed to settle on the group, Macavoy, having 
 spoken a low word to Pierre, said : " There's wan 
 way, an' maybe I can an' maybe I can't, but I'm 
 fit to try. I'll go up the river to an aisy p'int a 
 mile above, get in, and drift down to a p'int below 
 there, thin climb up and loose the stuff."
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 83 
 
 Every man present knew the double danger: 
 the swift headlong river, and the sudden rush of 
 rocks and stones, which must be loosed on the 
 side of the narrow ravine opposite the little house. 
 Macavoy had nothing to say to the head-shakes of 
 the others, and they did not try to dissuade him ; 
 for women and children were in the question, 
 and there they were below beside the house, the 
 children gathered round the mother, she waiting- 
 waiting. 
 
 Macavoy, stripped to the waist, and carrying 
 only a hatchet and a coil of rope tied round him, 
 started away alone up the river. The others 
 waited, now and again calling comfort to the 
 woman below, though their words could not be 
 heard. About half an hour passed, and then 
 someone called out : " Here he comes ! " Presently 
 they could see the rough head and the bare 
 shoulders of the giant in the wild churning stream. 
 There was only one point where he could get a 
 hold on the hillside the jutting bole of a tree 
 just beneath them, and beneath the dyke of rock 
 and trees. 
 
 It was a great moment The current swayed 
 him out, but he plunged forward, catching at the 
 bole. His hand seized a small branch. It held 
 him an instant, as he was swung round, then it 
 snapt. But the other hand clenched the bole, 
 and to a loud cheer, which Pierre prompted,
 
 84 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Macavoy drew himself up. After that they could 
 not see him. He alone was studying the situation. 
 He found the key-rock to the dyked slide of earth. 
 To loosen it was to divert the slide away, or partly 
 away, from the little house. But it could not be 
 loosened from above, if at all, and he himself 
 would be in the path of the destroying hill. 
 
 " Aisy, aisy, Tim Macavoy," he said to himself. 
 " It's the woman and the darlins av her, an' the 
 rose o' the valley down there at the Post ! " 
 
 A minute afterwards, having chopped down a 
 hickory sapling, he began to pry at the boulder 
 which held the mass. Presently a tree came 
 crashing down, and a small rush of earth followed 
 it, and the hearts of the men above and the woman 
 and children below stood still for an instant. 
 An hour passed as Macavoy toiled with a 
 strange careful skill and a superhuman concen- 
 tration. His body was all shining with sweat, 
 and sweat dripped like water from his forehead. 
 His eyes were on the key-rock and the pile, alert, 
 measuring, intent. At last he paused. He looked 
 round at the hills down at the river, up at the 
 sky humanity was shut away from his sight. 
 He was alone. A long hot breath broke from 
 his pressed lips, stirring his big red beard. Then 
 he gave a call, a long call that echoed through the 
 hills weirdly and solemnly. 
 
 It reached the ears of those above like a greet-
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SIMPLE KING 85 
 
 ing from an outside world. They answered, 
 " Right, Macavoy ! " 
 
 Years afterwards these men told how then there 
 came in reply one word, ringing roundly through 
 the hills the note and symbol of a crisis, the 
 fantastic cipher of a soul 
 
 "M'Guir*!* 
 
 There was a loud booming sound, the dyke was 
 loosed, the ravine spilt into the swollen stream 
 its choking mouthful of earth and rock ; and a 
 minute afterwards the path was clear to the top 
 of Champak Hill. To it came the unharmed 
 children and their mother, who, from the warm 
 peak sent the wild duck "to the rose o' the valley," 
 which, till the message came, was trembling on 
 the stem of life. But Joy, that marvellous healer, 
 kept it blooming with a little Eden bird nestling 
 near, whose happy tongue was taught in after 
 years to tell of the gift of the Simple King : who 
 had redeemed, on demand, the promissory note 
 for ever.
 
 Malachi 
 
 " T T E'LL swing just the same to-morrow. Exit 
 A J. Malachi i " said Freddy Tarlton gravely. 
 
 The door suddenly opened on the group of 
 gossips, and a man stepped inside and took the 
 only vacant seat near the fire. He glanced at 
 none, but stretched out his hands to the heat, 
 looking at the coals with drooping introspective 
 eyes. 
 
 "Exit Malachi," he said presently in a soft 
 ironical voice, but did not look up. 
 
 "By the holy poker, Pierre, where did you 
 spring from ? " asked Tarlton genially. 
 
 "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and 
 Pierre responded, with a little turn of his fingers. 
 
 " And the wind doesn't tell where it's been, but 
 that's no reason Pierre shouldn't," urged the other. 
 
 Pierre shrugged his shoulders, but made no 
 answer. 
 
 "He was a tough," said a voice from the crowd. 
 " To-morrow he'll get the breakfast he's paid for." 
 
 Pierre turned and looked at the speaker with 
 a cold inquisitive stare. "Mon Dieuf" he said
 
 MALACHI 87 
 
 presently, " here's this Gohawk playing preacher. 
 What do you know of Malachi, Gohawk ? What 
 do any of you know about Malachi ? A little 
 of this, a little of that, a drink here, a game 
 of euchre there, a ride after cattle, a hunt behind 
 Guidon Hill ! But what is that? You have heard 
 the cry of the eagle, you have seen him carry off 
 a lamb, you have had a pot-shot at him, but what 
 do you know of the eagle's nest? Mais non. 
 The lamb is one thing, the nest is another. You 
 don't know the eagle till you've been there. And 
 you, Gohawk, would not understand, if you saw 
 the nest. Such cancan \ " 
 
 " Shut your mouth ! " broke out Gohawk. 
 " D'ye think I'm going to stand your " 
 
 Freddy Tarlton laid a hand on his arm. " Keep 
 quiet, Gohawk. What good will it do?" Then 
 he said, " Tell us about the nest, Pierre ; they're 
 hanging him for the lamb in the morning." 
 
 "Who spoke for him at the trial?" Pierre 
 asked. 
 
 " I did," said Tarlton. " I spoke as well as I 
 could, but the game was dead against him from 
 the start. The sheriff was popular, and young ; 
 young that was the thing ; handsome too, and 
 the women, of course ! It was sure from the start ; 
 besides, Malachi would say nothing didn't seem 
 to care." 
 
 "No, not to care," mused Pierre. "What did
 
 88 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 you say for him to the jury? I mean the devil 
 of a thing to make them sit up and think, ' Poor 
 Malachi ! 'like that." 
 
 " Best speech y'ever heard," Gohawk interjected ; 
 "just emptied the words out, spilt 'em like peas, 
 by gol ! till he got to one place right before the 
 end. Then he pulled up sudden, and it got so 
 quiet you could 'a heard a pin drop. ' Gen'lemen 
 of the jury,' says Freddy Tarlton here gen'lemen, 
 by gol ! all that lot Lagan and the rest ! ' Gen'le- 
 men of the jury,' he says, 'be you danged well 
 sure that you're at one with God A'mighty in 
 this ; that you've got at the core of justice here ; 
 that you've got evidence to satisfy Him who 
 you've all got to satisfy some day, or git out. 
 Not evidence as to shootin', but evidence as to 
 what that shootin' meant, an' whether it was 
 meant to kill, an' what for. The case is like this, 
 gen'lemen of the jury,' says Freddy Tarlton here. 
 ' Two men are in a street alone. There's a shot, 
 out come's everybody, and sees Fargo the sheriff 
 laid along the ground, his mouth in the dust, 
 and a full-up gun in his fingers. Not forty feet 
 away stands Malachi with a gun smokiri' in his 
 fist. It seems to be the opinion that it was 
 cussedness just cussedness that made Malachi 
 turn the sheriff's boots to the sun. For Malachi 
 was quarrelsome. I'll give you a quarter on that. 
 And the sheriff was mettlesome, used to have high
 
 MALACHI 89 
 
 spirits, like as if he's lift himself over the fence 
 with his boot-straps. So when Malachi come and 
 saw the sheriff steppin' round in his paten' leathers, 
 it give him the needle, and he got a bead on him 
 and away went Sheriff Fargo right away ! That 
 seems to be the sense of the public. And he 
 stops again, soft and quick, and looks the twelve 
 in the eyes at once. ' But,' says Freddy Tarlton 
 here, 'are you goin' to hang a man on the little 
 you know ? Or are you goin' to credit him with 
 somethin' of what you don't know ? You haint got 
 the inside of this thing, and Malachi doesn't let 
 you know it, and God keeps quiet. But be danged 
 well sure that you've got the bulge on iniquity 
 here ; for gen'lemen with pistols out in the street 
 is one thing, and sittin' weavin' a rope in a court- 
 room for a man's neck is another thing,' says 
 Freddy Tarlton here. ' My client has refused to 
 say one word this or that way, but don't be sure 
 that Some One that knows the inside of things 
 won't speak for him in the end.' Then he turns 
 and looks at Malachi, and Malachi was standin' 
 still and steady like a tree, but his face was white, 
 and sweat poured on his forehead. ' If God has 
 no voice to be heard for my client in this court- 
 room to-day, is there no one on earth no man 
 or woman who can speak for one who won't 
 speak for himself?' says Freddy Tarlton here. 
 Then, by gol ! for the first time Malachi opened.
 
 go AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 ' There's no one,' he says. ' The speakin' is all for 
 the sheriff. But I spoke once, and the sheriff 
 didn't answer.' Not a bit of beg-yer-pardon in it. 
 It struck cold. ' I leave his case in the hands of 
 twelve true men,' says Freddy Tarlton here, and 
 he sits down." 
 
 " So they said he must walk the air ? " suggested 
 Pierre. 
 
 "Without leavin' their seats," someone added 
 instantly. 
 
 " So. But that speech of ' Freddy Tarlton here ' ? ' 
 
 " It was worth twelve drinks to me, no more, and 
 nothing at all to Malachi," said Tarlton. " When I 
 said I'd come to him to-night to cheer him up, he 
 said he'd rather sleep. The missionary, too, he 
 can make nothing of him. ' I don't need anyone 
 here,' he says. ' I eat this off my own plate.' And 
 that's the end of Malachi." 
 
 " Because there was no one to speak for him 
 eh? Well, well." 
 
 "If he'd said anything that'd justify the thing 
 make it a manslaughter business or a quarrel 
 then ! But no, not a word, up or down, high or 
 low. Exit Malachi ! " rejoined Freddy Tarlton 
 sorrowfully. " I wish he'd given me half a chance." 
 
 " I wish I'd been there," said Pierre, taking a 
 match from Gohawk, and lighting his cigarette. 
 
 " To hear his speech ? " asked Gohawk, nodding 
 towards Tarlton.
 
 MALACHI 91 
 
 "To tell the truth about it all. T'sh, you bats, 
 you sheep, what have you in your skulls ? When 
 a man will not speak, will not lie to gain a case for 
 his lawyer or save himself, there is something! 
 Now, listen to me, and I will tell you the story of 
 Malachi. Then you shall judge. 
 
 " I never saw such a face as that girl had down 
 there at Lachine in Quebec. I knew her when she 
 was a child, and I knew Malachi when he was on 
 the river with the rafts, the foreman of a gang. 
 He had a look all open then as the sun yes. 
 Happy? Yes, as happy as a man ought to be. 
 Well, the mother of the child died, and Malachi 
 alone was left to take care of the little Norice. He 
 left the river and went to work in the mills, so that 
 he might be with the child ; and when he got to be 
 foreman there he used to bring her to the mill. He 
 had a basket swung for her just inside the mill not 
 far from him, right where she was in the shade ; but 
 if she stretched out her hand it would be in the 
 sun. I've seen a hundred men turn to look at her 
 where she swung, singing to herself, and then 
 chuckle to themselves afterwards as they worked. 
 
 " When Trevoor, the owner, come one day, and 
 saw her, he swore, and was going to sack Malachi, 
 but the child that little Norice leaned over the 
 basket, and offered him an apple. He looked for 
 a minute, then he reached up, took the apple, 
 turned round, and went out of the mill without a
 
 92 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 W ord so. Next month when he come he walked 
 straight to her, and handed up to her a box of toys 
 and a silver whistle. ' That's to call me when you 
 want me,' he said, as he put the whistle to her lips, 
 and then he put the gold string of it round her 
 neck. She was a wise little thing, that Norice, and 
 noticed things. I don't believe that Trevoor or 
 Malachi ever knew how sweet was the smell of the 
 fresh sawdust till she held it to their noses ; and it 
 was she that had the saws all sizes start one 
 after the other, making so strange a tune. She 
 made up a little song about fairies and others to 
 sing to that tune. And no one ever thought much 
 about Indian Island, off beyond the sweating, 
 baking piles of lumber, and the blistering logs and 
 timbers in the bay, till she told stories about it. 
 Sure enough, when you saw the shut doors and 
 open windows of those empty houses, all white 
 without in the sun and dark within, and not a 
 human to be seen, you could believe almost any- 
 thing. You can think how proud Malachi was. 
 She used to get plenty of presents from the men 
 who had no wives or children to care for little 
 silver and gold things as well as others. She 
 was fond of them, but no, not vain. She loved the 
 gold and silver for their own sake." 
 
 Pierre paused. " I knew a youngster once," said 
 Gohawk, " that" 
 
 Pierre waved his hand. " I am not through,
 
 MALACHI 
 
 93 
 
 M'sieu' Gohawk the talker. Years went on. 
 Now she took care of the house of Malachi. She 
 wore the whistle that Trevoor gave her. He kept 
 saying to her still, ' If ever you need me, little 
 Norice, blow it, and I will come.' He was droll, 
 that M'sieu' Trevoor, at times. Well, she did not 
 blow, but still he used to come every year, and 
 always brought her something. One year he 
 brought his nephew, a young fellow of about 
 twenty-three. She did not whistle for him either, 
 but he kept on coming. That was the beginning 
 of ' Exit Malachi.' The man was clever and bad, 
 the girl believing and good. He was young, but 
 he knew how to win a woman's heart. When that 
 is done, there is nothing more to do she is yours 
 for good or evil ; and if a man, through a woman's 
 love, makes her to sin, even his mother cannot be 
 proud of him no. But the man married Norice, 
 and took her away to Madison, down in Wisconsin. 
 Malachi was left alone Malachi and Trevoor, for 
 Trevoor felt towards her as a father. 
 
 " Alors, sorrow come to the girl, for her 
 husband began to play cards and to drink, and he 
 lost much money. There was the trouble the 
 two together. They lived in a hotel. One day a 
 lady missed a diamond necklace from her room. 
 Norice had been with her the evening before. 
 Norice come into her own room the next afternoon, 
 and found detectives searching. In her own jewel-
 
 94 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 case, which was tucked away in the pocket 
 of an old dress, was found the necklace. She 
 was arrested. She said nothing for she waited 
 for her husband, who was out of town that day. 
 He only come in time to see her in court next 
 morning. She did not deny anything ; she was 
 quiet, like Malachi. The man played his part well. 
 He had hid the necklace where he thought it would 
 be safe, but when it was found, he let the wife take 
 the blame a little innocent thing. People were 
 sorry for them both. She was sent to jail. Her 
 father was away in the Rocky Mountains, and he 
 did not hear ; Trevoor was in Europe. The hus- 
 band got a divorce, and was gone. Norice was in 
 jail for over a year, and then she was set free, for 
 her health went bad, and her mind was going, they 
 thought. She did not know till she come out that 
 she was divorced. Then she nearly died. But 
 then Treevor come." 
 
 Freddy Tarlton's hands were cold with excite- 
 ment, and his fingers trembled so he could hardly 
 light a cigar. 
 
 " Go on, go on, Pierre," he said huskily. 
 
 "Trevoor said to her he told me this himself 
 ' Why did you not whistle for me, Norice ? A word 
 would have brought me from Europe.' 'No one 
 could help me, no one at all/ she answered. Then 
 Trevoor said, ' I know who did it, for he has robbed 
 me too.' She sank in a heap on the floor. ' I
 
 MALACHI 
 
 95 
 
 could have borne it and anything for him, if he 
 hadn't divorced me,' she said. Then they cleared 
 her name before the world. But where was the 
 man? No one knew. At last Malachi, in the 
 Rocky Mountains, heard of her trouble, for Norice 
 wrote to him, but told him not to do the man 
 any harm, if he ever found him ah, a woman, a 
 woman ! . . . But Malachi met the man one day 
 at Guidon Hill, and shot him in the street." 
 
 " Fargo the sheriff!" said half-a-dozen voices. 
 
 " Yes ; he had changed his name, had come up 
 here, and because he was clever and spent money, 
 and had a pull on someone, got it at cards 
 perhaps, he was made sheriff." 
 
 " In God's name, why didn't Malachi speak ? " 
 said Tarlton ; " why didn't he tell me this ? " 
 
 " Because he and I had our own plans. The 
 one evidence he wanted was Norice. If she would 
 come to him in his danger, and in spite of his 
 killing the man, good. If not, then he would die. 
 Well, I went to find her and fetch her. I found 
 her. There was no way to send word, so we had 
 to come on as fast as we could. We have come 
 just in time." 
 
 " Do ye mean to say, Pierre, that she's here ? " 
 said Gohawk. 
 
 Pierre waved his hand emphatically. " And so 
 we came on with a pardon." 
 
 Every man was on his feet, every man's tongue
 
 96 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 was loosed, and each ordered liquor for Pierre, 
 and asked him where the girl was. Freddy Tarl- 
 ton wrung his hand, and called a boy to go to his 
 rooms and bring three bottles of wine, which he 
 had kept for two years, to drink when he had won 
 his first big case. 
 
 Gohawk was importunate. " Where is the girl, 
 Pierre ? " he urged. 
 
 " Such a fool as you are, Gohawk ! She is with 
 her father." 
 
 A half -hour later, in a large sitting-room, 
 Freddy Tarlton was making eloquent toasts over 
 the wine. As they all stood drinking to Pierre, 
 the door opened from the hall-way, and Malachi 
 stood before them. At his shoulder was a face, 
 wistful, worn, yet with a kind of happiness too ; 
 and the eyes had depths which any man might be 
 glad to drown his heart in. 
 
 Malachi stood still, not speaking, and an awe 
 or awkwardness fell on the group at the table. 
 
 But Norice stepped forward a little, and said : 
 " May we come in ? " 
 
 In an instant Freddy Tarlton was by her side, 
 and had her by the hand, her and her father, 
 drawing them over. 
 
 His ardent, admiring look gave Norice thought 
 for many a day. 
 
 And that night Pierre made an accurate prophecy.
 
 The Lake of the Great Slave 
 
 WHEN Tybalt the tale-gatherer asked why 
 it was so called, Pierre said : " Because 
 of the Great Slave ; " and then paused. 
 
 Tybalt did not hurry Pierre, knowing his 
 whims. If he wished to tell, he would in his own 
 time ; if not, nothing could draw it from him. 
 It was nearly an hour before Pierre eased off from 
 the puzzle he was solving with bits of paper and 
 obliged Tybalt. He began as if they had been 
 speaking the moment before : 
 
 " They have said it is legend, but I know better. 
 I have seen the records of the Company, and it is 
 all there. I was at Fort O'Glory once, and in a 
 box two hundred years old the factor and I 
 found it. There were other papers, and some of 
 them had large red seals, and a name scrawled 
 along the end of the page." 
 
 Pierre shook his head, as if in contented musing. 
 He was a born story-teller. Tybalt was aching 
 with interest, for he scented a thing of. note. 
 
 " How did any of those papers, signed with a 
 scrawl, begin ? " he asked. 
 7
 
 98 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " ' To our dearly - beloved} or something like 
 that," answered Pierre. " There were letters also. 
 Two of them were full of harsh words, and these 
 were signed with the scrawl.' 1 
 
 " What was that scrawl ? " asked Tybalt 
 
 Pierre stdbped to the sand, and wrote two 
 words with his finger. " Like that," he answered. 
 
 Tybalt looked intently for an instant, and then 
 drew a long breath. " Charles Rex? he said, 
 hardly above his breath. 
 
 Pierre gave him a suggestive sidelong glance. 
 " That name was droll, eh ? " 
 
 Tybalt's blood was tingling with the joy of 
 discovery. " It is a great name," he said shortly. 
 
 " The Slave was great the Indians said so at 
 the last." 
 
 " But that was not the name of the Slave ? " 
 
 " Mais non. Who said so ? Charles Rex like 
 that ! was the man who wrote the letters." 
 
 "To the Great Slave?" 
 
 Pierre made a gesture of* impatience "Very 
 sure." 
 
 " Where are those letters now ? " 
 
 " With the Governor of the Company." 
 
 Tybalt cut the tobacco for his pipe savagely. 
 
 " You'd have liked one of those papers ? " asked 
 Pierre provokingly. 
 
 " I'd give five hundred dollars for one!" broke 
 out Tybalt
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE 99 
 
 Pierre lifted his eyebrows. "T'sh, what's the 
 good of five hundred dollars up here? What 
 would you do with a letter like that?" 
 
 Tybalt laughed with a touch of irony, for Pierre 
 was clearly " rubbing it in." 
 
 " Perhaps for a book ? " gently asked Pierre. 
 
 " Yes, if you like." 
 
 M It is a pity. But there is a way." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Put me in the book. Then" 
 
 " How does that touch the case ? " 
 
 Pierre shrugged a shoulder gently, for he thought 
 Tybalt was unusually obtuse. Tybalt thought so 
 himself before the episode ended. 
 
 "Go on," he said, with clouded brow, but 
 interested eye. Then, as if with sudden thought : 
 "To whom were the letters addressed, Pierre?" 
 
 " Wait ! " was the reply. " One letter said : 
 ' Good cousin, We are evermore glad to have thee 
 and thy most excelling mistress near us. So, fail 
 us not at our cheerful doings, yonder at Highgate. 1 
 Another a year after said: 'Cousin, for the 
 sweetening of our mind, get thee gone into some 
 distant corner of our pasturage the farthest doth 
 please us most. We would not have thee on 
 foreign ground, for we bear no ill-will to our 
 brother princes, and yet we would not have thee 
 near our garden of good loyal souls, for thou hast 
 a rebel heart and a tongue of divers tunes thou
 
 ioo AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 lovest not the good old song of duty to thy prince. 
 Obeying us, thy lady shall keep thine estates un- 
 touched ; failing obedience, thou wilt make more 
 than thy prince unhappy. Fare thee well.' That 
 was the way of two letters," said Pierre. 
 
 " How do you remember so ? " 
 
 Pierre shrugged a shoulder again. " It is easy 
 with things like that." 
 
 " But word for word ? " 
 
 " I learned it word for word." 
 
 "Now for the story of the Lake if you won't 
 tell me the name of the man." 
 
 " The name afterwards perhaps. Well, he 
 came to that farthest corner of the pasturage, to 
 the Hudson's Bay country, two hundred years ago. 
 What do you think ? Was he so sick of all, that 
 he would go so far -he could never get back ? 
 Maybe those 'cheerful doings' at Highgate, eh? 
 And the lady who can tell ? " 
 
 Tybalt seized Pierre's arm. "You know more. 
 Damnation, can't you see I'm on needles to hear? 
 Was there anything in the letters about the lady ? 
 Anything more than you've told ? " 
 
 Pierre liked no man's hand on him. He glanced 
 down at the eager fingers, and said coldly : 
 
 " You are a great man ; you can tell a story in 
 many ways, but I in one way alone, and that is 
 my way mats out!" 
 
 " Very well, take your own time."
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE 101 
 
 
 
 " Bien. I got the story from two heads. If you 
 hear a thing like that from Indians, you call it 
 'legend'; if from the Company's papers, you call 
 it ' history.' Well, in this there is not much differ- 
 ence. The papers tell precise the facts ; the legend 
 gives the feeling, is more true. How can you 
 judge the facts if you don't know the feeling j> 
 No ! what is bad turns good sometimes, when you 
 know the how, the feeling, the place. Well, this 
 story of the .Great Slave eh f . . . There is a race 
 of Indians in the far north who have hair so brown 
 like yours, m'sieu', and eyes no darker. It is said 
 they are of those that lived at the Pole, before 
 the sea swamped the Isthmus, and swallowed up 
 so many islands. So. In those days the fair race 
 came to the south for the first time, that is, far 
 below the Circle. They had their women with 
 them. I have seen those of to-day : fine and tall, 
 with breasts like apples, and a cheek to tempt a 
 man like you, m'sieu' ; no grease in the hair no, 
 M'sieu' Tybalt!" 
 
 Tybalt sat moveless under the obvious irony, 
 but his eyes were fixed intently on Pierre, his 
 mind ever travelling far ahead of the tale. 
 
 " Alors : the 'good cousin' of Charles Rex, he 
 made a journey with two men to the Far-off Metal 
 River, and one day this tribe from the north come 
 on his camp. It was summer, and they were 
 camping in the Valley of the Young Moon, more
 
 io2 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 sweet, they say, than any in the north. The 
 Indians cornered them. There was a fight, and 
 one of the Company's men was killed, and five of 
 the other. But when the king of the people of 
 the Pole saw that the great man was fair of face, 
 he called for the fight to stop. 
 
 " There was a big talk all by signs, and the 
 king said for the great man to come and be one 
 with them, for they liked his fair face their fore- 
 fathers were fair like him. He should have the 
 noblest of their women for his wife, and be a prince 
 among them. He would not go : so they drew 
 away again and fought. A stone-axe brought the 
 great man to the ground. He was stunned, not 
 killed. Then the other man gave up, and said he 
 would be one of them if they would take him. 
 They would have killed him but for one of their 
 women. She said that he should live to tell them 
 tales of the south country and the strange people, 
 when they came again to their camp-fires. So 
 they let him live, and he was one of them. But 
 the chief man, because he was stubborn and scorned 
 them, and had killed the son of their king in the 
 fight, they made a slave, and carried him north a 
 captive, till they came to this lake the Lake of 
 the Great Slave. 
 
 " In all ways they tried him, but he would not 
 yield, neither to wear their dress nor to worship their 
 gods. He was robbed of his clothes, of his gold-
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE 103 
 
 handled dagger, his belt of silk and silver, his 
 carbine with rich chasing, and all, and he was 
 among them almost naked, it was summer, as I 
 said, yet defying them. He was taller by a head 
 than any of them, and his white skin rippled in the 
 sun like soft steel." 
 
 Tybalt was inclined to ask Pierre how he knew 
 all this, but he held his peace. Pierre, as if divining 
 his thoughts, continued : 
 
 "You ask how I know these things. Very good: 
 there are the legends, and there were the papers of 
 the Company. The Indians tried every way, but 
 it was no use ; he would have nothing to say to 
 them. At last they came to this lake. Now 
 something great occurred. The woman who had 
 been the wife of the king's dead son, her heart 
 went out in love of the Great Slave ; but he never 
 looked at her. One day there were great sports, 
 for it was the feast of the Red Star. The young 
 men did feats of strength, here on this ground 
 where we sit. The king's wife called out for the 
 Great Slave to measure strength with them all. 
 He would not stir. The king commanded him ; 
 still he would not, but stood among them silent 
 and looking far away over their heads. At last, 
 two young men of good height and bone threw 
 arrows at his bare breast. The blood came in 
 spots. Then he gave a cry through his beard, 
 and was on them like a lion. He caught them,
 
 104 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 one in each arm, swung them from the ground, and 
 brought their heads together with a crash, breaking 
 their skulls, and dropped them at his feet. Catch- 
 ing up a long spear, he waited for the rest. But 
 they did not come, for, with a loud voice, the king 
 told them to fall back, and went and felt the bodies 
 of the men. One of them was dead; the other 
 was his second son he would live. 
 
 " ' It is a great deed,' said the king, ' for these 
 were no children, but strong men.' 
 
 " Then again he offered the Great Slave women 
 to marry, and fifty tents of deerskin for the making 
 of a village. But the Great Slave said no, and asked 
 to be sent back to Fort O'Glory. 
 
 "The king refused. But that night, as he slept 
 in his tent, the girl-widow came to him, waked him, 
 and told him to follow her. He came forth, and she 
 led him softly through the silent camp to that wood 
 which we see over there. He told her she need 
 not go on. Without a word, she reached over and 
 kissed him on the breast. Then he understood. 
 He told her that she could not come with him, for 
 there was that lady in England his wife, eh ? But 
 never -mind, that will come. He was too great to 
 save his life, or be free at the price. Some are born 
 that way. They have their own commandments, 
 and they keep them. 
 
 " He told her that she must go back. She 
 gave a little cry, and sank down at his feet
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE 105 
 
 saying that her life would be in danger if she 
 went back. 
 
 " Then he told her to come, for it was in his mind 
 to bring her to Fort O'Glory, where she could marry 
 an Indian there. But now she would not go with 
 him, and turned towards the village. A woman is 
 a strange creature yes, like that ! He refused to 
 go and leave her. She was in danger, and he would 
 share it, whatever it might be. So, though she 
 prayed him not, he went back with her; and when 
 she saw that he would go in spite of all, she was 
 glad : which is like a woman. 
 
 " When he entered the tent again, he guessed her 
 danger, for he stepped over the bodies of two dead 
 men. She had killed them. As she turned at the 
 door to go to her own tent, another woman faced 
 her. It was the wife of the king, who had suspected, 
 and had now found out. Who can tell what it 
 was ? Jealousy, perhaps. The Great Slave could 
 tell, maybe, if he could speak, for a man always 
 knows when a woman sets him high. Anyhow, 
 that was the way it stood. In a moment the girl 
 was marched back to her tent, and all the camp 
 heard a wicked lie of the widow of the king's son. 
 
 " To it there was an end after the way of their 
 laws. The woman should die by fire, and the man, 
 as the king might will. So there was a great 
 gathering in the place where we are, and the king 
 sat against that big white stone, which is now as it
 
 106 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 was then. Silence was called, and they brought the 
 girl-widow forth. The king spoke : 
 
 "'Thou who hadst a prince for thy husband, 
 didst go in the night to the tent of the slave who 
 killed thy husband ; whereby thou also becamest 
 a slave, and didst shame the greatness which was 
 given thee. Thou shalt die, as has been set in our 
 law.' 
 
 " The girl-widow rose, and spoke. ' I did not 
 know, O king, that he whom thou mad'st a slave 
 slew my husband, the prince of our people, and thy 
 son. That was not told me. But had I known it, 
 still would I have set him free, for thy son was killed 
 in fair battle, and this man deserves not slavery or 
 torture. I did seek the tent of the Great Slave, and 
 it was to set him free no more. For that did I go, 
 and, for the rest, my soul is open to the Spirit Who 
 Sees. I have done naught, and never did, nor ever 
 will, that might shame a king, or the daughter of a 
 king, or the wife of a king, or a woman. If to set 
 a great captive free is death for me, then am I ready. 
 I will answer all pure women in the far Camp of 
 the Great Fires without fear. There is no more, O 
 king, that I may say, but this : she who dies by fire, 
 being of noble blood, may choose who shall light 
 the faggots is it not so ? ' 
 
 " Then the king replied : * It is so. Such is our 
 law.' 
 
 "There was counselling between the king and
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE 107 
 
 his oldest men, and so long were they handing the 
 matter back and forth that it looked as if she might 
 go free. But the king's wife, seeing, came and 
 spoke to the king and the others, crying out for 
 the honour of her dead son ; so that in a moment 
 of anger they all cried out for death. 
 
 " When the king said again to the girl that she 
 must die by fire, she answered : ' It is as the gods 
 will. But it is so, as I said, that I may choose who 
 shall light the fires ? ' 
 
 " The king answered yes, and asked her whom 
 she chose. She pointed towards the Great Slave. 
 And all, even the king and his councillors, won- 
 dered, for they knew little of the heart of women. 
 What is a man with a matter like that? Nothing 
 nothing at all. They would have set this for 
 punishment : that she should ask for it was beyond 
 them. Yes, even the king's wife it was beyond 
 her. But the girl herself, see you, was it not this 
 way? If she died by the hand of him she loved, 
 then it would be easy, for she could forget the pain 
 in the thought that his heart would ache for her, 
 and that at the very last he might care, and she 
 should see it. She was great in her way also that 
 girl, two hundred years ago. 
 
 " Alors, they led her a little distance off, there 
 is the spot, where you see the ground heave 
 a little, and the Great Slave was brought up. 
 The king told him why the girl was to die. P~
 
 io8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 went like stone, looking, looking at them. He 
 knew that the girl's heart was like a little child's, 
 and the shame and cruelty of the thing froze him 
 silent for a minute, and the colour flew from his 
 face to here and there on his body, as a flame on 
 marble. The cords began to beat and throb in his 
 neck and on, his forehead, and his eyes gave out 
 fire like flint on an arrow-head. 
 
 "Then he began to talk. He could not say 
 much, for he knew so little of their language. But 
 it was 'No!' every other word. 'No no no 
 no ! ' the words ringing from his chest ' She is 
 good ! ' he said. ' The other no ! ' and he made a 
 motion with his hand. 'She must not die no! 
 Evil ? It is a lie ! I will kill each man that says 
 it, one by one, if he dares come forth. She tried to 
 save me well ? ' Then he made them know that 
 he was of high place in a far country, and that a 
 man like him would not tell a lie. That pleased 
 the king, for he was proud, and he saw that the 
 Slave was of better stuff than himself. Besides, 
 the king was a brave man, and he had strength, 
 and more than once he had laid his hand on the 
 chest of the other, as one might on a grand animal. 
 Perhaps, even then, they might have spared the 
 girl was it not for the queen. She would not 
 hear of it. Then they tried the Great Slave, and 
 he was found guilty. The queen sent him word 
 to beg for pardon. So he stood out and spoke to
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE 109 
 
 the queen. She sat up straight, with pride in her 
 eyes, for was it not a great prince, as she thought, 
 asking? But a cloud fell on her face, for he 
 begged the girl's life. Since there must be death, let 
 him die, and die by fire in her place ! It was then 
 two women cried out : the poor girl for joy not 
 at the thought that her life would be saved, but 
 because she thought the /nan loved her now, or he 
 would not offer to die for her ; and the queen for 
 hate, because she thought the same. You can 
 guess the rest : they were both to die, though the 
 king was sorry for the man. 
 
 " The king's speaker stood out and asked them 
 if they had anything to say. The girl stepped 
 forward, her face without any fear, but a kind of 
 noble pride in it, and said : ' I am ready, O king.' 
 
 "The Great Slave bowed his head, and was 
 thinking much. They asked him again, and he 
 waved his hand at them. The king spoke up in 
 anger, and then he smiled and said : ' O king, I am 
 not ready ; if I die, I die.' Then he fell to thinking 
 again. But once more the king spoke: 'Thou shalt 
 surely die, but not by fire, nor now; nor till we 
 have come to our great camp in our own country. 
 There thou shalt die. But the woman shall die 
 at the going down of the sun. She shall die by 
 fire, and thou shalt light the faggots for the burning.' 
 
 " The Great Slave said he would not do it, not 
 though he should die a hundred deaths. Then the
 
 no AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 king said that it was the woman's right to choose 
 who should start the fire, and he had given his 
 word, which should not be broken. 
 
 " When the Great Slave heard this he was wild 
 for a little, and then he guessed altogether what 
 was in the girl's mind. Was not this the true 
 thing in her, the very truest? Mais out! That 
 was what she wished to die by his hand rather than 
 by any other ; and something troubled his breast, 
 and a cloud came in his eyes, so that for a moment 
 he could not see. He looked at the girl, so serious, 
 eye to eye. Perhaps she understood. So, after a 
 time, he got calm as the farthest light in the sky, 
 his face shining among them all with a look none 
 could read. He sat down, and wrote upon pieces 
 of bark with a spear-point those bits of bark I 
 have seen also at Fort O'Glory. He pierced them 
 through with dried strings of the slippery-elm 
 tree, and with the king's consent gave them to 
 the Company's man, who had become one of 
 the people, telling him, if ever he was free, or 
 could send them to the Company, he must do so. 
 The man promised, and shame came upon him 
 that he had let the other suffer alone; and he 
 said he was willing to fight and die if the Great 
 Slave gave the word. But he would not ; and he 
 urged that it was right for the man to save his 
 life. For himself, no. It could never be ; and if 
 he must die, he must die.
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE in 
 
 "You see, a great man must always live alone 
 and die alone, when there are only such people 
 about him. So, now that the letters were written, 
 he sat upon the ground and thought, looking often 
 towards the girl, who was placed apart, with 
 guards near. The king sat thinking also. He 
 could not guess why the Great Slave should give 
 the letters now, since he was not yet to die, nor 
 could the Company's man show a reason when 
 the king asked him. So the king waited, and 
 told the guards to see that the Great Slave did 
 not kill himself. 
 
 " But the queen wanted the death of the girl, 
 and was glad beyond telling that the Slave 
 must light the faggots. She was glad when she 
 saw the young braves bring a long sapling from 
 the forest, and, digging a hole, put it stoutly in 
 the ground, and fetch wood, and heap it about. 
 
 " The Great Slave noted that the bark of the 
 sapling had not been stripped, and more than once 
 he measured, with his eye, the space between 
 the stake and the shores of the Lake ; he 
 did this most private, so that no one saw but 
 the girl. 
 
 " At last the time was come. The Lake was all 
 rose and gold out there in the west, and the water 
 so still so still. The cool, moist scent of the 
 leaves and grass came out from the woods and up 
 from the plain, and the world was so full of content
 
 ii2 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 that a man's heart could cry out, even as now. 
 while we look eh, is it not good ? See the deer 
 drinking on the other shore there!" 
 
 Suddenly he became silent, as if he had forgotten 
 the story altogether. Tybalt was impatient, but 
 he did not speak. He took a twig, and in the 
 sand he wrote " Charles Rex" Pierre glanced 
 down and saw it. 
 
 "There was beating of the little drums;' he con- 
 tinued, " and the crying of the king's speaker ; 
 and soon all was ready, and the people gathered at 
 a distance, and the kiYig and the queen, and the 
 chief men nearer ; and the girl was brought forth. 
 
 " As they led her past the Great Slave, she 
 looked into his eyes, and afterwards her heart was 
 glad, for she knew that at the last he would be 
 near her, and that his hand should light the fires. 
 Two men tied her to the stake. Then the king's 
 man cried out again, telling of her crime, and 
 calling for her death. The Great Slave was 
 brought near. No one knew that the palms of his 
 hands had been rubbed in the sand for a purpose. 
 When he was brought beside the stake, a torch 
 was given him by his guards. He looked at the 
 girl, and she smiled at him, and said : ' Good-bye. 
 Forgive. I die not afraid, and happy.' 
 
 " He did not answer, but stooped and lit the 
 sticks here and there. All at once he snatched a 
 burning stick, and it and the torch he thrust, like
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE 113 
 
 lightning, in the faces of his guards, blinding them. 
 Then he sprang to the stake, and, with a huge 
 pull, tore it from the ground, girl and all, and 
 rushed to the shore of the Lake, with her tied so 
 in his arms. 
 
 " He had been so swift that, at first, no one 
 stirred. He reached the shore, rushed into the 
 water, dragging a boat out with one hand as he 
 did so, and, putting the girl in, seized a paddle 
 and was away with a start A few strokes, and 
 then he stopped, picked up a hatchet that was in 
 the boat with many spears, and freed the girl. 
 Then he paddled on, trusting, with a small hope, 
 that through his great strength he could keep 
 ahead till darkness came, and then, in the gloom, 
 they might escape. The girl also seized an oar, 
 and the canoe the king's own canoe came on 
 like a swallow. 
 
 " But the tribe was after them in fifty canoes, 
 some coming straight along, some spreading out 
 to close in later. It was no equal game, for these 
 people were so quick and strong with the oars, and 
 they were a hundred or more to two. There could 
 be but one end. It was what the Great Slave had 
 looked for: to fight till the last breath. He 
 should fight for the woman who had risked all for 
 him just a common woman of the north, but it 
 seemed good to lose his life for her ; and she would 
 be happy to die with him. 
 8
 
 ii4 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 "So they stood side by side when the spears 
 and arrows fell round them, and they gave death 
 and wounds for wounds in their own bodies. 
 When, at last, the Indians climbed into the canoe, 
 the Great Slave was dead of many wounds, and 
 the woman, all gashed, lay with her lips to his wet, 
 red cheek. She smiled as they dragged her away; 
 and her soul hurried after his to the Camp of the 
 Great Fires." 
 
 It was long before Tybalt spoke, but at last he 
 said : "If I could but tell it as you have told it to 
 me, Pierre ! " 
 
 Pierre answered : " Tell it with your tongue, and 
 this shall be nothing to it, for what am I ? What 
 English have I, a gipsy of the snows ? But do not 
 write it, mats non! Writing wanders from the 
 matter. The eyes, and the tongue, and the time, 
 that is the thing. But in a book ! it will sound 
 all cold and thin. It is for the north, for the camp 
 fire, for the big talk before a man rolls into 
 his blanket, and is at peace. No! no writing, 
 monsieur. Speak it everywhere with your tongue." 
 
 "And so I would, were my tongue as yours. 
 Pierre, tell me more about the letters at Fort 
 O'Glory. You know his name what was it?" 
 
 "You said five hundred dollars for one of those 
 letters. Is it not?" 
 
 " Yes." Tybalt had a new hope. 
 
 'T'shl What do I want of five hundred dollars!
 
 THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE 115 
 
 But, here, answer me a question : Was the lady 
 his wife, she that was left in England a good 
 woman ? Answer me out of your own sense, and 
 from my story. If you say right you shall have a 
 letter one that I have by me." 
 
 Tybalt's heart leapt into his throat. After a 
 little he said huskily: "She was a good woman 
 he believed her that, and so shall I." 
 
 "You think he could not have been so great 
 unless, eh? And that 'Charles Rex,' what of him?" 
 
 " What good can it do to call him bad now ? " 
 
 Without a word, Pierre drew from a leather 
 wallet a letter, and, by the light of the fast-setting 
 sun, Tybalt read it, then read it again, and yet 
 again. 
 
 " Poor soul ! poor lady ! " he said. " Was ever 
 such another letter written to any man? And it 
 came too late ; this, with the king's recall, came 
 too late!" 
 
 "So so. He died out there where that wild 
 duck flies a Great Slave. Years after, the Com- 
 pany's man brought word of all." 
 
 Tybalt was looking at the name on the outside 
 of the letter. 
 
 " How do they call that name ? " asked Pierre. 
 " It is like none I've seen no." 
 
 Tybalt shook his head sorrowfully, and did not 
 answer.
 
 The Red Patrol 
 
 ST. AUGUSTINE'S, Canterbury, haef given 
 him its licentiate's hood, the Bishop of 
 Rupert's Land had ordained him, and the North 
 had swallowed him up. He had gone forth with 
 surplice, stole, hood, a sermon-case, the prayer- 
 book, and that other book of all. Indian camps, 
 trappers' huts, and Company's posts had given 
 him hospitality, and had heard him with patience 
 and consideration. At first he wore the surplice, 
 stole, and hood, took the eastward position, and 
 intoned the service, and no man said him nay, 
 but watched him curiously and was sorrowful 
 he was so youthful, clear of eye, and bent on 
 doing heroical things. 
 
 But little by little there came a change. The 
 hood was left behind at Fort O'Glory, where it 
 provoked the derision of the Methodist missionary 
 who followed him ; the sermon-case stayed at 
 Fort O'Battle ; and at last the surplice itself was 
 put by at the Company's post at Yellow Quill. 
 He was too excited and in earnest at first to 
 see the effect of his ministrations, but there 
 
 116
 
 THE RED PATROL 117 
 
 came slowly over him the knowledge that he was 
 talking into space. He felt something return- 
 ing on him out of the air into which he talked, 
 and buffeting him. It was the Spirit of the 
 North, in which lives the terror, the large heart 
 of things, the soul of the past. He awoke to his 
 inadequacy, to the fact that all these men to whom 
 he talked, listened, and only listened, and treated 
 him with a gentleness which was almost pity as 
 one might a woman. He had talked doctrine, the 
 Church, the sacraments, and at Fort O'Battle he 
 faced definitely the futility of his work. What was 
 to blame the Church religion himself? 
 
 It was at Fort O'Battle that he met Pierre, 
 and heard a voice say over his shoulder, as he 
 walked out into the icy dusk : " The voice of one 
 crying in the "wilderness . . . and he had sackcloth 
 about his loins, and his food was locusts and wild 
 honey" 
 
 He turned to see Pierre, who in the large room 
 of the Post had sat and watched him as he prayed 
 and preached. He had remarked the keen, curious 
 eye, the musing look, the habitual disdain at the 
 lips. It had all touched him, confused him ; and 
 now he had a kind of anger. 
 
 " You know it so well, why don't you preach 
 yourself?" he said feverishly. 
 
 "I have been preaching all my life," Pierre 
 answered drily.
 
 n8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " The devil's games : cards and lav. breaking ; 
 and you sneer at men who try to bring lost sheep 
 into the fold." 
 
 " The fold of the Church yes, I understand all 
 that," Pierre answered. " I have heard you and 
 the priests of my father's Church talk. Which is 
 right? But as for me, I am a missionary. Cards, 
 law-breaking these are what I have done ; but 
 these are not what I have preached." 
 
 " What have you preached ? " asked the other, 
 walking on into the fast-gathering night, beyond 
 the Post and the Indian lodges, into the wastes 
 where frost and silence lived. 
 
 Pierre waved his hand towards space. " This," 
 he said suggestively. 
 
 " What's this ? " asked the other fretfully. 
 
 " The thing you feel round you here." 
 
 " I feel the cold," was the petulant reply. 
 
 "I feel the immense, the far off," said Pierre 
 slowly. 
 
 The other did not understand as yet "You've 
 learned big words," he said disdainfully. 
 
 " No ; big things," rejoined Pierre sharply " a 
 few." 
 
 " Let me hear you preach them," half snarled 
 Sherburne. 
 
 "You will not like to hear them no." 
 
 " I'm not likely to think about them one way or 
 another," was the contemptuous reply.
 
 THE RED PATROL 119 
 
 Pierre's eyes half closed. The young, impetuous, 
 half-baked college man. To set his little know- 
 ledge against his own studious vagabondage ! At 
 that instant he determined to play a game and 
 win ; to turn this man into a vagabond also ; to see 
 John the Baptist become a Bedouin. He saw the 
 doubt, the uncertainty, the shattered vanity in the 
 youth's mind, the missionary's half retreat from his 
 cause. A crisis was at hand. The youth was 
 fretful with his great theme, instead of being severe 
 upon himself. For days and days Pierre's presence 
 had acted on Sherburne silently but forcibly. He 
 had listened to the vagabond's philosophy, and 
 knew that it was of a deeper so much deeper 
 knowledge of life than he himself possessed, and 
 he knew also that it was terribly true ; he was not 
 wise enough to see that it was only true in part. 
 The influence had been insidious, delicate, cunning, 
 and he himself was only " a voice crying in the 
 wilderness," without the simple creed of that voice. 
 He knew that the Methodist missionary was 
 believed in more, if less liked, than himself. 
 
 Pierre would work now with all the latent devilry 
 of his nature to unseat the man from his saddle. 
 
 "You have missed the great thing, alors, though 
 you have been up here two years," he said. " You 
 do not feel, you do not know. What good have you 
 done ? Who has got on his knees and changed his 
 life because of you ? Who has told his beads or
 
 120 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 longed for the Mass because of you? Tell me, 
 who has ever said, ' You have showed me how to 
 live ' ? Even'the women, though they cry sometimes 
 when you sing-song the prayers, go on just the 
 same when the little 'bless-you' is over. Why? 
 Most of them know a better thing than you tell 
 them. Here is the truth: you are little eh, so 
 very little. You never lied direct ; you never 
 stole the waters that are sweet ; you never knew 
 the big dreams that come with wine in the dead of 
 night ; you never swore at your own soul and 
 heard it laugh back at you ; you never put your 
 face in the breast of a woman do not look so wild 
 at me ! you never had a child ; you never saw the 
 world and yourself through the doors of real life. 
 You never have said, ' I am tired ; I am sick of all ; 
 1 have seen all.' You have never felt what came 
 , after understanding. Chut, your talk is for 
 children and missionaries. You are a prophet 
 without a call, you are a leader without a man to 
 lead, you are less than a child up here. For here 
 the children feel a peace in their blood when the 
 stars come out, and a joy in their brains when the 
 dawn comes up and reaches a yellow hand to the 
 Pole, and the west wind shouts at them. Holy 
 Mother ! we in the far north, we feel things, for all 
 the great souls of the dead are up there at the 
 Pole in the pleasant land, and we have seen the 
 Scarlet Hunter and the Kimash Hills. You have
 
 THE RED PATROL 121 
 
 seen nothing. You have only heard, and because, 
 like a child, you have never sinned, you come and 
 preach to us ! " 
 
 The night was folding down fast, all the stars 
 were shooting out into their places, and in the 
 north the white lignts ot the aurora were flying to 
 and fro. Pierre had spcken with a slow force and 
 precision, yet, as he went on, his eyes almost became 
 fixed on those shifting flames, and a deep look 
 came into them, as he was moved by his own 
 eloquence. Never in his life had he made so long 
 a speech at once. He paused, and then said 
 suddenly : " Come, let us run." 
 
 He broke into a long, sliding trot, and Sherburne 
 did the same. With their arms gathered to their 
 sides they ran for quite two miles without a word, 
 until the heavy breathing of the clergyman brought 
 Pierre up suddenly. 
 
 " You do not run well," he said ; a you do not 
 run with the whole body. You know so little. 
 Did you ever think how much such men as Jacques 
 Parfaite know ? The earth they read like a book, 
 the sky like an animal's ways, and a man's face 
 like like the writing on the wall." 
 
 " Like the writing on the wall," said Sherburne 
 musing ; for, under the other's influence, his petu 
 lance was gone. He knew that he was not a part 
 of this life, that he was ignorant of it ; of, indeed, 
 all that was vital in it and in men and women.
 
 122 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " I think you began this too soon. You should 
 have waited ; then you might have done good. 
 But here we are wiser than you. You have no 
 message no real message to give us ; down in 
 your heart you are not even sure of yourself." 
 
 Sherburne sighed. "I'm of no use," he said. 
 " I'll get out. I'm no good at all." 
 
 Pierre's eyes glistened. He remembered how, 
 the day before, this youth had said hot words 
 about his card - playing ; had called him in 
 effect a thief; had treated him as an inferior, 
 as became one who was of St. Augustine's, 
 Canterbury. 
 
 " It is the great thing to be free," Pierre said, 
 "that no man shall look for this or that of you. 
 Just to do as far as you feel, as far as you are sure 
 that is the best. In this you are not sure 
 no. Hein, is it not ? " 
 
 Sherburne did not answer. Anger, distrust, 
 wretchedness, the spirit of the alien, loneliness, were 
 alive in him. The magnetism of this deep penetrat- 
 ing man, possessed of a devil, was on him, and in 
 spite of every reasonable instinct he turned to him 
 for companionship. 
 
 " It's been a failure," he burst out, " and I'm sick 
 of it sick of it ; but I can't give it up." 
 
 Pierre said nothing. They had come to what 
 seemed a vast semicircle of ice and snow, a huge 
 amphitheatre in the plains. It was wonderful: a
 
 THE RED PATROL 123 
 
 great round wall on which the northern lights 
 played, into which the stars peered. It was open 
 towards the north, and in one side was a fissure 
 shaped like a Gothic arch. Pierre pointed to it, 
 and they did not speak till they had passed through 
 it. Like great seats the steppes of snow ranged 
 round, and in the centre was a kind of plateau of 
 ice, as it might seem a stage or an altar. To the 
 north there was a great opening, the lost arc of the 
 circle, through which the mystery of the Pole swept 
 in and out, or brooded there where no man may 
 question it Pierre stood and looked. Time and 
 again he had been here, and had asked the same 
 question: Who had ever sat on those frozen benches 
 and looked down at the drama on that stage below ? 
 Who played the parts ? Was it a farce or a sacrifice ? 
 To him had been given the sorrow of imagination, 
 and he wondered and wondered. Or did they 
 come still those strange people, whoever they 
 were and watch ghostly gladiators at their fatal 
 sport? If they came, when was it? Perhaps 
 they were there now unseen. In spite of him- 
 self he shuddered. Who was the keeper of the 
 house? 
 
 Through his mind there ran pregnant to him 
 for the first time a chanson of the Scarlet Hunter, 
 the Red Patrol, who guarded the sleepers in the 
 Kimash Hills against the time they should awake 
 and possess the land once more : the friend of the
 
 124 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 lost, the lover of the vagabond, and of all who had 
 no home : 
 
 ** Strangers come to the outer waljs 
 
 ( Why do the sleepers stir ?) 
 Strangers enter the Judgment House 
 
 {Why do the sleepers sigh?) 
 Slow they rise in their judgment seats, 
 Sieve and measure the naked souls, 
 Then with a blessing return to sleep 
 
 (Quiet the Judgment House.) 
 Lone and sick are the vagrant souls 
 
 (When shall the world come home?)* 
 
 He reflected upon the words, and a feeling of awe 
 came over him, for he had been in the White 
 Valley and had seen the Scarlet Hunter. But there 
 came at once also a sinister desire to play a game 
 for this man's life-work here. He knew that the 
 other was ready for any wild move ; there was 
 upon him the sense of failure and disgust ; he was 
 acted on by the magic of the night, the terrible 
 delight of the scene, and that might be turned to 
 advantage. 
 
 He said : " Am I not right ? There is some- 
 ' thing in the world greater than the creeds and the 
 book of the Mass. To be free and to enjoy, that 
 is the thing. Never before have you felt what you 
 feel here now. And I will show you more. I will 
 teach you how to know, I will lead you through all 
 the north and make you to understand the big 
 things of life. Then, when you have known, you
 
 THE RED PATROL 125 
 
 can return if you will. But now see: I will tell 
 you what I will do. Here on this great platform 
 we will play a game of cards. There is a man 
 whose life I can ruin. If you win I promise to 
 leave him safe, and to go out of the far north 
 for ever, to go back to Quebec " he had a kind of 
 gaming fever in his veins " if I win, you give up 
 the Church, leaving behind the prayer-book, the 
 Bible and all, coming with me to do what I shall 
 tell you, for the passing of twelve moons. It is a 
 great stake will you play it ? Come " he leaned 
 forward, looking into the other's face " will you 
 play it? They drew lots those people in the 
 Bible. We will draw lots, and see, eh? and 
 see?" 
 
 " I accept the stake," said Sherburne, with a 
 little gasp. 
 
 Without a word they went upon that platform, 
 shaped like an altar, and Pierre at once drew out a 
 pack of cards, shuffling them with his mittened 
 hands. Then he knelt down and said, as he laid 
 out the cards one by one till there were thirty : 
 "Whoever gets the ace of hearts first, wins 
 kernf" 
 
 Sherburne nodded and knelt also. The cards 
 lay back upwards in three rows. For a moment 
 neither stirred. The white, metallic stars saw it, 
 the small crescent moon beheld it, and the deep 
 wonder of night made it strange and dreadful.
 
 126 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Once or twice Sherburne looked round as though 
 he felt others present, and once Pierre looked out 
 to the wide portals, as though he saw someone 
 entering. But there was nothing to the eye 
 nothing. Presently Pierre said : " Begin." 
 
 The other drew a card, then Pierre drew one, 
 then the other, then Pierre again ; and so on. 
 How slow the game was ! Neither hurried, but 
 both, kneeling, looked and looked at the card long 
 before drawing and turning it over. The stake 
 was weighty, and Pierre loved the game more 
 than he cared about the stake. Sherburne cared 
 nothing about the game, but all his soul seemed 
 set upon the hazard. There was not a sound out of 
 the night, nothing stirring but the Spirit of the 
 North. Twenty, twenty-five cards were drawn, 
 and then Pierre pausedi 
 
 " In a minute all will be settled," he said. "Will 
 you go on, or will you pause ? " 
 
 But Sherburne had got the madness of chance 
 in his veins now, and he said : " Quick, quick, 
 go on ! " 
 
 Pierre drew, but the great card held back. 
 Sherburne drew, then Pierre again. There were 
 three left Sherburne's face was as white as the 
 snow around him. His mouth was open, and a 
 little white cloud of frosted breath came out. His 
 hand hungered for the card, drew back, then seized 
 it A moan broke from him. Then Pierre, with a
 
 THE RED PATROL 127 
 
 little weird laugh, reached out and turned over 
 the ace of hearts ! 
 
 They both stood up. Pierre put the cards in his 
 pocket. 
 
 " You have lost," he said. 
 
 Sherburne threw back his head with a reckless 
 laugh. The laugh seemed to echo and echo 
 through the amphitheatre, and then from the 
 frozen seats, the hillocks of ice and snow, there 
 was a long, low sound, as of sorrow, and a voice 
 came after : 
 
 "Sleep sleep! Blessed be the just and the keepers 
 of vows'* 
 
 Sherburne stood shaking, as though he had seen 
 a host of spirits. His eyes on the great seats of 
 judgment, he said to Pierre : 
 
 " See, see, how they sit there, grey and cold and 
 awful ! " 
 
 But Pierre shook his head. 
 
 "There is nothing," he said, "nothing;" yet he 
 knew that Sherburne was looking upon the men of 
 judgment of the Kimash Hills, the sleepers. He 
 looked round, half fearfully, for if here were those 
 great children of the ages, where was the keeper of 
 the house, the Red Patrol ? 
 
 Even as he thought, a figure in scarlet with a 
 noble face and a high pride of bearing stood 
 before them, not far away. Sherburne clutched 
 his arm.
 
 i 2 8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Then the Red Patrol, the Scarlet Hunter spoke : 
 
 "Why have you sinned your sins and broken 
 your vows within our house of judgment? Know 
 ye not that in the new springtime of the world ye 
 shall be outcast, because ye have called the sleepers 
 to judgment before their time? But I am the 
 hunter of the lost. Go you," he said to Sherburne, 
 pointing, " where a sick man lies in a hut in the 
 Shikam Valley. In his soul find thine own again." 
 Then to Pierre : " For thee, thou shalt know the 
 desert and the storm and the lonely hills; thou 
 shalt neither seek nor find. Go, and return no 
 more." 
 
 The two men, Sherburne falteringly, stepped 
 down and moved to the open plain. They turned 
 at the great entrance and looked back. Where 
 they had stood there rested on his long bow the 
 Red Patrol. He raised it, and a flaming arrow 
 flew through the sky towards the south. They 
 followed its course, and when they looked back a 
 little afterwards, the great judgment - house was 
 empty, and the whole north was silent as the 
 sleepers. 
 
 At dawn they came to the hut in the Shikam 
 Valley, and there they found a trapper dying. 
 He had sinned greatly, and he could not die with- 
 out someone to show him how, to tell him what 
 to say to the angel of the cross-roads. 
 
 Sherburne, kneeling by him, felt his own new
 
 THE RED PATROL 129 
 
 soul moved by a holy fire, and, first praying 
 for himself, he said to the sick man : " For if 
 we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to 
 forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all 
 unrighteousness." 
 
 Praying for both, his heart grew strong, and he 
 heard the sick man say, ere he journeyed forth to 
 the cross-roads : 
 
 " You have shown me the way. I have peace." 
 
 " Speak for me in the Presence," said Sherburne 
 softly. 
 
 The dying man could not answer, but that 
 moment, as he journeyed forth on the Far Trail, 
 he held Sherburne's hand.
 
 The Going of the White Swan 
 " A A f HY don>t she come back> father? " 
 
 V V The man shook his head, his hand 
 
 fumbled with the wolf-skin robe covering the child, 
 and he made no reply. 
 
 " She'd come if she knew I was hurted, wouldn't 
 she?" 
 
 The father nodded, and then turned restlessly 
 toward the door, as though expecting someone. 
 The look was troubled, and the pipe he held was 
 not alight, though he made a pretence of smoking. 
 
 " Suppose the wild cat had got me, she'd be 
 sorry when she comes, wouldn't she?" 
 
 There was no reply yet, save by gesture, the 
 language of primitive man ; but the big body 
 shivered a little, and the uncouth hand felt for a 
 place in the bed where the lad's knee made a lump 
 under the robe. He felt the little heap .tenderly, 
 but the child winced. 
 
 "S-sh, but that hurts! This wolf-skin's most 
 too much on me, isn't it, father ? " 
 
 The man softly, yet awkwardly too, lifted the 
 robe, folded it back, and slowly uncovered the knee, 
 
 130
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 131 
 
 The leg was worn away almost to skin and bone, 
 but the knee itself was swollen with inflammation. 
 He bathed it with some water, mixed with vinegar 
 and herbs, then drew down the deer-skin shirt at 
 the child's shoulder, and did the same with it 
 Both shoulder and knee bore the marks of teeth, 
 where a huge wild cat had made havoc, and the 
 body had long red scratches. 
 
 Presently the man shook his head sorrowfully, 
 and covered up the small disfigured frame again, 
 but this time with a tanned skin of the caribou. 
 The flames of the huge wood fire dashed the walls 
 and floor with a velvety red and black, and the 
 large iron kettle, bought of the Company at Fort 
 Sacrament, puffed out geysers of steam. 
 
 The place was a low hut with parchment 
 windows and rough mud-mortar lumped between 
 the logs. Skins hung along two sides, with bullet- 
 holes and knife-holes showing: of the great grey 
 wolf, the red puma, the bronze hill-lion, the beaver, 
 the bear, and the sable; and in one corner was a 
 huge pile of them. Bare of the usual comforts as 
 the room was, it had a sort of refinement also, 
 joined to an inexpressible loneliness; you could 
 scarce have told how or why. 
 
 " Father," said the boy, his face pinched with 
 pain for a moment, "it hurts so all over, every 
 once in a while." 
 
 His fingers caressed the leg just below the knee,
 
 i 3 2 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " Father," he suddenly added, " what does it 
 mean when you hear a bird sing in the middle of 
 the night?" 
 
 The woodsman looked down anxiously into the 
 boy's face. " It hasn't no meaning, Dominique. 
 There ain't such a thing on the Labrador Heights 
 as a bird singin' in the night. That's only in 
 warm countries where there's nightingales. So 
 bien stir / " 
 
 The boy had a wise, dreamy, speculative look. 
 " Well, I guess it was a nightingale it didn't sing 
 like any I ever heard." 
 
 The look of nervousness deepened in the woods- 
 man's face. " What did it sing like, Dominique ? " 
 
 " So it made you shiver. You wanted it to go 
 on, and yet you didn't want it. It was pretty, but 
 you felt as if something was going to snap inside 
 of you." 
 
 " When did you hear it, my son ? * 
 
 "Twice last night and and I guess it was 
 Sunday the other time. I don't know, for there 
 hasn't been no Sunday up here since mother went 
 away has there ? " 
 
 " Mebbe not." 
 
 The veins were beating like live cords in the 
 man's throat and at his temples. 
 
 " 'Twas just the same as Father Corraine bein' 
 here, when mother had Sunday, wasn't it ? " 
 
 The man made no reply, but a gloom drew down
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 133 
 
 his forehead, and his lips doubled in as if he endured 
 physical pain. He got to his feet and paced the 
 floor. For weeks he had listened to the same kind 
 of talk from this wounded, and, as he thought, 
 dying son, and he was getting less and less able to 
 bear it. The boy at nine years of age was, in 
 manner of speech, the merest child, but his thoughts 
 were sometimes large and wise. The only white 
 child within a compass of a thousand miles or so ; 
 the lonely life of the hills and plains, so austere 
 in winter, so melted to a sober joy in summer ; 
 listening to the talk of his elders at camp-fires and 
 on the hunting - trail, when, even as an infant 
 almost, he was swung in a blanket from a tree or 
 was packed in the torch-crane of a canoe ; and, 
 more than all, the care of a good, loving if 
 passionate little mother: all these had made him 
 far wiser than his years. He had been hours upon 
 hours each day alone with the birds, and squirrels, 
 and wild animals, and something of the keen scent 
 and instinct of the animal world had entered into 
 his body and brain, so that he felt what he could 
 not understand. 
 
 He saw that he had worried his father, and it 
 troubled him. He thought of something. 
 
 " Daddy," he said, " let me have it." 
 
 A smile struggled for life in the hunter's face, as 
 he turned to the wall and took down the skin of a 
 silver fox. He held it on his palm for a moment,
 
 134 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 looking at it in an interested, satisfied way, then 
 he brought it over and put it into the child's hands ; 
 and the smile now shaped itself, as he saw an 
 eager pale face buried in the soft fur. 
 
 " Good ! good ! " he said involuntarily. 
 
 " Bon ! bon ! " said the boy's voice from lhe fur, 
 in the language of his mother, who added a strain 
 of Indian blood to her French ancestry. 
 
 The two sat there, the man half-kneeling on the 
 low bed, and stroking the fur very gently. It 
 could scarcely be thought that such pride should be 
 spent on a little pelt, by a mere backwoodsman 
 and his nine-year-old son. One has seen a woman 
 fingering a splendid necklace, her eyes fascinated 
 by the bunch of warm, deep jewels a light not of 
 mere vanity, or hunger, or avarice in her face 
 only the love of the beautiful thing. But this 
 was an animal's skin. Did they feel the animal 
 underneath it yet, giving it beauty, life, glory ? 
 
 The silver-fox skin is the prize of the north, and 
 this one was of the boy's own harvesting. While 
 his father was away he saw the fox creeping by 
 the hut. The joy of the hunter seized him, and 
 guided his eye over the " sights " of his father's rifle, 
 as he rested the barrel on the window-sill, and the 
 animal was his ! Now his finger ran into the 
 hole made by the bullet, and he gave a little laugh 
 of modest triumph. Minutes passed as they 
 studied, felt, and admired the skin, the hunter
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 135 
 
 proud of his son, the son alive with a primitive 
 passion, which inflicts suffering to get the beautiful 
 thing. Perhaps the tenderness as well as the wild 
 passion of the animal gets into the hunter's blood, 
 and tips his fingers at times with an exquisite 
 kindness as one has noted in a lion fondling her 
 young, or in tigers as they sport upon the sands of 
 the desert This boy had seen his father shoot a 
 splendid moose, and as it lay dying, drop down 
 and kiss it in the neck for sheer love of its hand- 
 someness. Death is no insult. It is the law of the 
 primitive world war, and love in war. 
 
 They sat there for a long time, not speaking, 
 each busy in his own way : the boy full of imagin- 
 ings, strange, half- heathen, half- angelic feelings; 
 the man roaming in that savage, romantic, super- 
 stitious atmosphere which belongs to the north, 
 and to the north alone. At last the boy lay back 
 on the pillow, his finger still in the bullet-hole of 
 the pelt His eyes closed, and he seemed about to 
 fall asleep, but presently looked up and whispered : 
 " I haven't said my prayers, have I ? " 
 
 The father shook his head in a sort of rude 
 confusion. 
 
 " I can pray out loud if I want to, can't I ?" 
 
 " Of course, Dominique." The man shrank a 
 little. 
 
 " I forget a good many times, but I know one 
 all right, for I said it when the bird was singing.
 
 136 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 It isn't one out of the book Father Corraine sent 
 mother by Pretty Pierre ; it's one she taught me 
 out of her own head. P'r'aps I'd better say it" 
 
 " P'r'aps, if you want to." The voice was husky. 
 
 The boy began : 
 
 " O bon Je*su, who died to save us from our sins, 
 and to lead us to Thy country, where there is no 
 cold, nor hunger, nor thirst, and where no one is 
 afraid, listen to Thy child. . . . When the great 
 winds and rains come down from the hills, do not 
 let the floods drown us, nor the woods cover us, 
 nor the snow-slide bury us ; and do not let the 
 prairie-fires burn us. Keep wild beasts from killing 
 us in our sleep, and give us good hearts that we 
 may not kill them in anger." 
 
 His finger twisted involuntarily into the bullet- 
 hole in the pelt, and he paused a moment. 
 
 " Keep us from getting lost, O gracious Saviour." 
 
 Again there was a pause, his eyes opened wide, 
 and he said : 
 
 " Do you think mother's lost, father?" 
 
 A heavy broken breath came from the father, 
 and he replied haltingly : " Mebbe, mebbe so." 
 
 Dominique's eyes closed again. " I'll make up 
 some," he said slowly. "And if mother's lost, 
 bring her back again to us, for everything's going 
 wrong." 
 
 Again he paused, then went on with the prayer 
 as it had been taught him.
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 137 
 
 " Teach us to hear Thee whenever Thou callest, 
 and to see Thee when Thou visitest us, and let the 
 blessed Mary and all the saints speak often to 
 Thee for us. O Christ, hear us. Lord, have mercy 
 upon us. Christ have mercy upon us. Amen." 
 
 Making the sign of the cross, he lay back, and 
 said : " I'll go to sleep now, I guess." 
 
 The man sat for a long time looking at the pale, 
 shining face, at the blue veins showing painfully 
 dark on the temples and forehead, at the firm little 
 white hand, which was as brown as a butternut a 
 few weeks before. The longer he sat, the deeper 
 did his misery sink into his soul. His wife had 
 gone, he knew not where, his child was wasting to 
 death, and he had for his sorrows no inner consola- 
 tion. He had ever had that touch of mystical 
 imagination inseparable from the far north, yet he 
 had none of that religious belief which swallowed 
 up natural awe and turned it to the refining of life, 
 and to the advantage of a man's soul. Now it was 
 forced in upon him that his child was wiser than 
 himself, wiser and safer. His life had been spent 
 in the wastes, with rough deeds and rugged habits, 
 and a youth of hardship, danger, and almost 
 savage endurance, had given him a half-barbarian 
 temperament, which could strike an angry blow at 
 one moment and fondle to death at the next 
 
 When he married sweet Lucette Barbond his 
 religion reached little farther than a belief in the
 
 138 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Scarlet Hunter of the Kimash Hills and those voices 
 that could be heard calling in the night, till their 
 time of sleep be past, and they should rise and 
 reconquer the north. 
 
 Not even Father Corraine, whose ways were like 
 those of his Master, could ever bring him to a more 
 definite faith. His wife had at first striven with 
 him, mourning yet loving. Sometimes the savage 
 in him had broken out over the little creature, 
 merely because barbaric tyranny was in him tor- 
 ture followed by the passionate kiss. But how was 
 she philosopher enough to understand the cause? 
 
 When she fled from their hut one bitter day, as 
 he roared some wild words at her, it was because her 
 nerves had all been shaken from threatened death 
 by wild beasts (of which he did not know), and his 
 violence drove her mad. She had run out of the 
 house, and on, and on, and on and she had never 
 come back. That was weeks ago, and there had 
 been no word nor sign of her since. The man was 
 now busy with it all, in a slow, cumbrous way. A 
 nature more to be touched by things seen than by 
 things told, his mind was being awakened in a 
 massive kind of fashion. He was viewing this 
 crisis of his life as one sees a human face in the wide 
 searching light of a great fire. He was restless, but 
 he held himself still by a strong effort, not wishing 
 to disturb the sleeper. His eyes seemed to retreat 
 farther and farther back under his shaggy brows.
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 139 
 
 The great logs in the chimney burned brilliantly, 
 and a brass crucifix over the child's head now and 
 again reflected soft little flashes of light. This 
 caught the hunter's eye. Presently there grew up 
 in him a vague kind of hope that, somehow, this 
 symbol would bring him luck that was the way 
 he put it to himself. He had felt this and some- 
 thing more when Dominique prayed. Somehow, 
 Dominique's prayer was the only one he had ever 
 heard that had gone home to him, had opened up 
 the big sluices of his nature, and let the light of God 
 flood in. No, there was another : the one Lucette 
 made on the day that they were married, when 
 a wonderful timid reverence played through his 
 hungry love for her. * 
 
 Hours passed. All at once, without any other 
 motion or gesture, the boy's eyes opened wide with 
 a strange, intense look. 
 
 " Father," he said slowly, and in a kind of dream, 
 " when you hear a sweet horn blow at night, is it 
 the Scarlet Hunter calling ? " 
 
 "P'r'aps. Why, Dominique?" He made up 
 his mind to humour the boy, though it gave him 
 strange aching forebodings. He had seen grown 
 men and women with these fancies and they had 
 died. 
 
 " I heard one blowing just now, and the sounds 
 seemed to wave over my head. Perhaps he's 
 calling someone that's lost."
 
 140 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " Mebbe." 
 
 f And I heard a voice singing it wasn't a bird 
 to-night" 
 
 " There was no voice, Dominique." 
 
 "Yes, yes." There was something fine in the 
 grave, courteous certainty of the lad. " I waked, 
 and you were sitting there thinking, and I shut my 
 eyes again, and I heard the voice. I remember 
 the tune and the words." 
 
 " What were the words ? " In spite of himself the 
 hunter felt awed. 
 
 " I've heard mother sing them, or something 
 most like them : 
 
 " Why does the fire no longer burn ? 
 
 (I am so lonely.) 
 Why does the tent-door swing outward? 
 
 (I have no home.) 
 Oh, let me breathe hard in your face 1 
 
 (I am so lonely.) 
 Oh, why do you shut your eyes to me? 
 
 (I have no home.)" 
 
 The boy paused. 
 
 " Was that all, Dominique ? " 
 
 " No, not all." 
 
 " Let us make friends with the stars ; 
 
 (I am so lonely.) 
 Give me your hand, I will hold it. 
 
 (I have no home.) 
 Let us go hunting together. 
 
 (I am so lonely.) 
 We will sleep at God's camp to-night 
 
 (I have no home.)"
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 141 
 
 Dominique did not sing, but recited the words 
 with a sort of chanting inflection. 
 
 " What does it mean when you hear a voice like 
 that, father?" 
 
 " I don't know. Who told your mother the 
 song?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know. I suppose she just made 
 them up she and God. . . . There 1 There it 
 is again? Don't you hear it don't you hear it 
 daddy?" 
 
 " No, Dominique, it's only the kettle singing." 
 
 "A kettle isn't a voice. Daddy " He 
 paused a little, then went on, hesitatingly " I saw 
 a white swan fly through the door over your 
 shoulder, when you came in to-night." 
 
 " No, no, Dominique ; it was a flurry of snow 
 blowing over my shoulder." 
 
 " But it looked at me with two shining eyes." 
 
 " That was two stars shining through the door 
 my son." 
 
 " How could there be snow flying and stars 
 shining too, father?" 
 
 " It was just drift-snow on a light wind, but the 
 stars were shining above, Dominique." 
 
 The man's voice was anxious and unconvincing, 
 his eyes had a hungry, hunted look. The legend 
 of the White Swan had to do with the passing of 
 a human soul. The swan had come in would it 
 go out alone? He touched the boy's hand it
 
 142 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 was hot with fever ; he felt the pulse it ran high ; 
 he watched the face it had a glowing light. 
 Something stirred within him, and passed like a 
 wave to the farthest courses of his being. Through 
 his misery he had touched the garment of the 
 Master of Souls. As though a voice said to him 
 there, " Someone hath touched me," he got to his 
 feet, and, with a sudden blind humility, lit two 
 candles, placed them on a shelf in a corner before 
 a porcelain figure of the Virgin, as he had seen his 
 wife do. Then he picked a small handful of fresh 
 spruce twigs from a branch over the chimney, and 
 laid them beside the candles. After a short pause 
 he came slowly to the head of the boy's bed. 
 Very solemnly he touched the foot of the Christ 
 on the cross with the tips of his fingers, and brought 
 them to his lips with an indescribable reverence. 
 After a moment, standing with eyes fixed on the 
 face of the crucified figure, he said, in a shaking 
 voice : 
 
 " Pardon, bon J&u ! Sauvex mon enfant ! Ne 
 me laissez pas seul ! '* 
 
 The boy looked up with eyes again grown un- 
 naturally heavy, and said : 
 
 " Amen ! . . . Bon Jesu / . . . Encore ! Encore^ 
 mon pere i " 
 
 The boy slept. The father stood still by the 
 bed for a time, but at last slowly turned and went 
 towards the fire.
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 143 
 
 Outside, two figures were approaching the hut 
 a man and a woman ; yet at first glance the man 
 might easily have been taken for a woman, because 
 of the long black robe which he wore, and because 
 his hair fell loose on his shoulders and his face 
 was clean-shaven. 
 
 "Have patience, my daughter," said the man. 
 " Do not enter till I call you. But stand close to 
 the door, if you will, and hear all" 
 
 So saying he raised his hand as in a kind of 
 benediction, passed to the door, and after tapping 
 very softly, opened it, entered, and closed it behind 
 him not so quickly, however, but that the woman 
 caught a glimpse of the father and the boy. In 
 her eyes there was the divine look of mother- 
 hood. 
 
 " Peace be to this house ! " said the man gently, 
 as he stepped forward from the door. 
 
 The father, startled, turned shrinkingly on him, 
 as if*he had seen a spirit. 
 
 " M'sieu' le cur ! " he said in French, with 
 an accent much poorer than that of the priest, 
 or even of his own son. He had learned French 
 from his wife; he himself was English. 
 
 The priest's quick eye had taken in the lighted 
 candles at the little shrine, even as he saw the 
 painfully changed aspect of the man. 
 
 "The wife and child, Bagot? " he asked, looking 
 round. "Ah, the boy I" he added, and going 

 
 144 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 toward the bed, continued, presently, in a low 
 voice : " Dominique is ill ? " 
 
 Bagdt nodded, and then answered : "A wild-cat 
 and then fever, Father Corraine." 
 
 The priest felt the boy's pulse softly, then with 
 a close personal look he spoke hardly above his 
 breath, yet distinctly too : 
 
 "Your wife, Bagot?" 
 
 " She is not here, m'sieu'." The voice was low 
 and gloomy. 
 
 " Where is she, Bagot ? " 
 
 " I do not know, m'sieu'." 
 
 "When did you see her last?" 
 
 " Four weeks ago, m'sieu'." 
 
 " That was September, this is October winter. 
 On the ranches they let their cattle loose upon the 
 plains in winter, knowing not where they go, yet 
 looking for them to return in the spring. But a 
 woman a woman and a wife is different. . 
 Bagot, you have been a rough, hard man, and you 
 have been a stranger to your God, but I thought 
 you loved your wife and child ! " 
 
 The hunter's hands clenched, and a wicked light 
 flashed up into his eyes ; but the calm, benignant 
 gaze of the other cooled the tempest in his veins. 
 The priest sat down on the couch where the child 
 lay, and took the fevered hand in his very softly. 
 
 "Stay where you are, Bagot," he said; "just 
 there where you are, and tell me what your trouble
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 145 
 
 is, and why your wife is not here. . . . Say all 
 honestly by the name of the Christ ! " he added, 
 lifting up a large iron crucifix that hung on his 
 breast. 
 
 ' Bagot sat down on a bench near the fireplace, the 
 light playing on his bronzed, powerful face, his eyes 
 shining beneath his heavy brows like two eoals. 
 After a moment he began : 
 
 " I don't know how it started. I'd lost a lot of 
 pelts stolen they were, down on the Child o' Sin 
 River. Well, she was hasty and nervous, like as 
 not she always was brisker and more sudden than 
 I am. I I laid my powder-horn and whisky- 
 flask up there ! " 
 
 He pointed to the little shrine of the Virgin, 
 where now his candles were burning. The priest's 
 grave eyes did not change expression at all, but 
 looked out wisely, as though he understood every- 
 thing before it was told. 
 
 Bagot continued : " I didn't notice it, but she 
 had put some flowers there. She said something 
 with an edge, her face all snapping angry, threw 
 the things down, and called me a heathen and a 
 wicked heretic and I don't say now but she'd a 
 right to do it But I let out then, for them stolen 
 pelts were rasping me on the raw. I said some- 
 thing pretty rough, and made as if I was goin' to 
 break her in two just fetched up my hands, and 
 went like this! " With a singular simplicity he 
 10
 
 146 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 made a wild gesture with his hands, and an animal- 
 like snarl came from his throat. Then he looked 
 at the priest with the honest intensity of a boy. 
 
 "Yes, that is what you did what was it you 
 said which was ' pretty rough ' ? " 
 
 There was a slight hesitation, then came the reply: 
 
 " I said there was enough powder spilt on the 
 floor to kill all the priests in heaven." 
 
 A fire suddenly shot up into Father Corraine's 
 face, and his lips tightened for an instant, but 
 presently he was as before, and he said : 
 
 " How that will face you one day, Bagot ! Go 
 on. What else ? " 
 
 Sweat began to break out on Bagot's face, and 
 he spoke as though he were carrying a heavy 
 weight on his shoulders, low and brpkenly. 
 
 " Then I said, ' And if virgins has it so fine, why 
 didn't you stay one ? ' >; 
 
 " Blasphemer ! " said the priest in a stern, re- 
 proachful voice, his face turning a little pale, and 
 he brought the crucifix to his lips. " To the mother 
 of your child shame ! What more ? " 
 
 " She threw up her hands to her ears with a wild 
 cry, ran out of the house, down the hills, and away. 
 I went to the door and watched her as long as I 
 could see her, and waited for her to come back 
 but she never did. I've hunted and hunted, but I 
 can't find her." Then, with a sudden thought, " Do 
 you know anything of her, m'sieu'?"
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 147 
 
 The priest appeared not to hear the question. 
 Turning for a moment toward the boy who now 
 was in a deep sleep, he looked at him intently. 
 Presently he spoke. 
 
 " Ever since I married you and Lucette Barbond, 
 you have stood in the way of her duty, Bagot. How 
 well I remember that first day when you knelt 
 before me ! Was ever so sweet and good a girl 
 with her golden eyes and the look of summer in 
 her face, and her heart all pure ! Nothing had 
 spoiled her you cannot spoil such women God 
 is in their hearts. But you, what have you cared ? 
 One day you would fondle her, and the next you 
 were a savage and she, so gentle, so gentle all 
 the time ! Then, for her religion and the faith of 
 her child she has fought for it, prayed for it, 
 suffered for it. You thought you had no need, for 
 you had so much happiness, which you did not 
 deserve that was it. But she : with all a woman 
 suffers, how can she bear life and man without 
 God? No, it is not possible. And you thought 
 you and your few superstitions were enough for 
 her. Ah, poor fool ! She should worship you ! 
 So selfish, so small, for a man who knows in his 
 heart how great God is. You did not love her. ' 
 
 " By the Heaven above, yes ! " said Bagot, half 
 starting to his feet. 
 
 "Ah, 'by the Heaven above,' no! nor the child. 
 For true love is unselfish and patient, and where it
 
 i 4 8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 is the stronger, it cares for the weaker ; but it was 
 your wife who was unselfish, patient, and cared for 
 you. Every time she said an ave she thought of 
 you, and her every thanks to the good God had you 
 therein. They know you well in heaven, Bagot 
 through your wife. Did you ever pray ever since 
 I married you to her ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 " An hour or so ago." 
 
 Once again the priest's eyes glanced towards the 
 lighted candles. 
 
 Presently he said : " You asked me if I had heard 
 anything of your wife. Listen, and be patient 
 while you listen. . . . Three weeks ago I was 
 camping on the Sundust Plains, over against the 
 Young Sky River. In the morning, as I was light- 
 ing a fire outside my tent, my young Cree Indian 
 with me, I saw coming over the crest of a land- 
 wave, from the very lips of the sunrise, as it were, a 
 band of Indians. I could not quite make them out. 
 I hoisted my little flag on the tent, and they hurried 
 on to me. I did not know the tribe they had come 
 from near Hudson's Bay. They spoke Chinook, 
 and I could understand them. Well, as they came 
 near, I saw that they had a woman with them." 
 
 Bagot leaned forward, his body strained, every 
 muscle tense. " A woman ? " he said, as if breath- 
 ing gave him sorrow "my wife?"
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 149 
 
 " Your wife." 
 
 " Quick ! Quick ! Go on oh, go on, m'sieu' 
 good father." 
 
 "She fell at my feet, begging me to save her. 
 ... I waved her off." 
 
 The sweat dropped from Bagot's forehead, a low 
 growl broke from him, and he made such a motion 
 as a lion might make at its prey. 
 
 "You wouldn't wouldn't save her you coward ! " 
 He ground the words out. 
 
 The priest raised his palm against the other's 
 violence. " Hush ! . . . She drew away, saying 
 that God and man had deserted her. . . . We had 
 breakfast, the chief and I. Afterwards, when the 
 chief had eaten much and was in good humour, I 
 asked him where he had got the woman. He said 
 that he had found her on the plains she had lost 
 her way. I told him then that I wanted to buy 
 her. He said to me, ' What does a priest want of 
 a woman ? ' I said that I wished to give her back 
 to her husband. He said that he had found her, 
 and she was his, and that he would marry her when 
 they reached the great camp of the tribe. I was 
 patient. It would not do to make him angry. I 
 wrote down on a piece of bark the things that I 
 would give him for her : an order on the Company 
 at Fort o' Sin for shot, blankets, and beads. He 
 said no." 
 
 The priest paused. Bagot's face was all swim-
 
 ISO AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 ming with sweat, his body was rigid, but the veins 
 of his neck knotted and twisted. 
 
 " For the love of God, go on ! " he said hoarsely. 
 
 " Yes, ' for the love of God.' I have no money, 
 I am poor, but the Company will always honour 
 my orders, for I pay sometimes, by the help of 
 Christ. Bien, I added some things to the list : 
 a saddle, a rifle, and some flannel. But no, he 
 would not. Once more I put many things down. 
 It was a big bill it would keep me poor for five 
 years. To save your wife, John Bagot, you who 
 drove her from your door, blaspheming, and railing 
 at such as I. ... I offered the things, and told 
 him that was all that I could give. After a little 
 he shook his head, and said that he must have 
 the woman for his wife. I did not know what 
 to add. I said ' She is white, and the white 
 people will never rest till they have killed you 
 all, if you do this thing. The Company will 
 track you down.' Then he said, ' The whites must 
 catch me and fight me before they kill me.' . . . 
 What was there to do ? " 
 
 Bagot came near to the priest, bending over him 
 savagely : 
 
 " You let her stay with them you, with hands 
 like a man 1 " 
 
 " Hush 1 " was the calm, reproving answer. " I 
 was one man, they were twenty." 
 
 " Where was your God to help you, then ? "
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 151 
 
 " Her God and mine was with me." 
 
 Bagot's eyes blazed. "Why didn't you offer 
 rum rum ? They'd have done it for that one 
 five ten kegs of rum ! " 
 
 He swayed to and fro in his excitement, yet 
 their voices hardly rose above a hoarse whisper 
 all the time. 
 
 "You forget," answered the priest, "that it is 
 against the law, and that as a priest of my order, 
 I am vowed to give no rum to an Indian." 
 
 " A vow ? A vow ? Son of God 1 what is a vow 
 beside a woman my wife ? " 
 
 His misery and his rage were pitiful to see. 
 
 " Perjure my soul ? Offer rum ? Break my vow 
 in the face of the enemies of God's Church? What 
 have you done for me that I should do this for 
 you, John Bagot ? " 
 
 " Coward ! " was the man's despairing cry, with 
 a sudden threatening movement. " Christ Himself 
 would have broke a vow to save her." 
 
 The grave, kind eyes of the priest met the 
 other's fierce gaze, and quieted the wild storm that 
 was about to break. 
 
 "Who am I that I should teach my Master?" 
 he said solemnly. "What would you give Christ, 
 Bagot, if He had saved her to you ? " 
 
 The man shook with grief, and tears rushed 
 from his eyes, so suddenly and fully had a new 
 emotion passed through him.
 
 " Give give ? " he cried ; " I would give twenty 
 years of my life ! " 
 
 The figure of the priest stretched up with a 
 gentle grandeur. Holding out the iron crucifix, 
 he said: "On your knees and swear it, John 
 Bagot." 
 
 There was something inspiring, commandkig, 
 in the voice and manner, and Bagot, with a new 
 hope rushing through his veins, knelt and repeated 
 his words. 
 
 The priest turned to the door, and called, 
 " Madame Lucette ! " 
 
 The boy, hearing, waked, and sat up in bed 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! " he cried, as the door flew 
 open. 
 
 The mother came to her husband's arms, laugh- 
 ing and weeping, and an instant afterwards was 
 pouring out her love and anxiety over her child. 
 
 Father Corraine now faced the man, and with a 
 soft exaltation of voice and manner, said: 
 
 "John Bagot, in the name of Christ, I demand 
 twenty years of your life of love and obedience 
 of God. I broke my vow, I perjured my soul, I 
 bought your wife with ten kegs of rum 1" 
 
 The tall hunter dropped again to his knees, and 
 caught the priest's hand to kiss it 
 
 "No, no this!" the priest said, and laid his 
 iron crucifix against the other's lips.
 
 THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN 153 
 
 Dominique's voice came clearly through the 
 room : 
 
 " Mother, I saw the white swan fly away through 
 the door when you came in." 
 
 " My dear, my dear," she said, " there was no 
 white swan." But she clasped the boy to her 
 breast protectingly, and whispered an ave. 
 
 " Peace be to this house," said the voice of the 
 priest. 
 
 And there was peace: for the child lived, and 
 the man has loved, and has kept his vow, even 
 unto this day. 
 
 For the visions of the boy, who can know the 
 divers ways in which God speaks to the children 
 of men ? 
 
 \
 
 H 
 
 At Bamber's Boom 
 i 
 
 IS trouble came upon him when he was old 
 To the hour of its coming he had been 
 of shrewd and humorous disposition. He had 
 married late in life, and his wife had died, leaving 
 him one child a girl. She grew to womanhood, 
 bringing him daily joy. She was beloved in the 
 settlement ; and there was no one at Bamber's 
 Boom, in the valley of the Madawaska, but was 
 startled and sorry when it turned out that Dugard, 
 the river-boss, was married. He floated away 
 down the river, with his rafts and drives of logs, 
 leaving the girl sick and shamed. They knew she 
 was sick at heart, because she grew pale and 
 silent ; they did not know for some months how 
 shamed she was. Then it was that Mrs. Lauder, 
 the sister of the Roman Catholic missionary, 
 Father Halen, being a woman of notable character 
 and kindness, visited her and begged her to 
 tell all. 
 
 Though the girl Nora was a Protestant, 
 Mrs. Lauder did this : but it brought sore grief 
 to her. At first she could hardly bear to look 
 
 154
 
 AT BAMBER'S BOOM 155 
 
 at the girl's face, it was so hopeless, so numb 
 to the world : it had the indifference of despair. 
 Rumour now became hateful fact. When the old 
 man was told, he gave one great cry, then sat 
 down, his hands pressed hard between his knees, 
 his body trembling, his eyes staring before him. 
 
 It was Father Halen who told him. He did 
 it as man to man, and not as a priest, having 
 travelled fifty miles for the purpose. " George 
 Magor," said he, "it's bad, I know, but bear it 
 with the help of God. And be kind to the girl." 
 
 The old man answered nothing. " My friend," 
 the priest continued, " I hope you'll forgive me 
 for telling you. I thought 'twould be better from 
 me, than to have it thrown at you in the settle- 
 ment. We've been friends one way and another, 
 and my heart aches for you, and my prayers go 
 with you." 
 
 The old man raised his sunken eyes, all their 
 keen humour gone, and spoke as though each word 
 were dug from his heart " Say no more, Father 
 Halen." Then he reached out, caught the priest's 
 hand in his gnarled fingers, and wrung it. 
 
 The father never spoke a harsh word to the girl. 
 Otherwise he seemed to harden into stone. When 
 the Protestant missionary came, he would not see 
 him. The child was born before the river-drivers 
 came along again the next year with their rafts 
 and logs. There was a feeling abroad that it
 
 156 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 would be ill for Dugard if he chanced to camp 
 at Bamber's Boom. The look of the old man's 
 face was ominous, and he was known to have an 
 iron will. 
 
 Dugard was a handsome man, half French, half 
 Scotch, swarthy and admirably made. He was 
 proud of his strength, and showily fearless in 
 danger. For there were dangerous hours to the 
 river life : when, for instance, a mass of logs 
 became jammed at a rapids, and must be loosened ; 
 or a crib struck into the wrong channel, or, failing 
 to enter a slide straight, came at a nasty angle to 
 it, its timbers wrenched and tore apart, and its 
 crew, with their great oars, were plumped into the 
 busy current. He had been known to stand singly 
 in some perilous spot when one log, the key to the 
 -jam, must be shifted to set free the great tumbled 
 pile. He did everything with a dash. The hand- 
 spike was waved and thrust into the best leverage, 
 the long robust cry, " O-hee-hee-hoi ! " rolled over 
 the waters, there was a devil's jumble of logs, and 
 he played a desperate game with them, tossing 
 here, leaping there, balancing elsewhere, till, 
 reaching the smooth rush of logs in the current, 
 he ran across them to the shore as they spun 
 beneath his feet. 
 
 His gang of river-drivers, with their big drives 
 of logs, came sweeping down one beautiful day of 
 early summer, red-shirted, shouting, good-tempered.
 
 AT BAMBER'S BOOM 
 
 157 
 
 It was about this time that Pierre came to know 
 Magor. 
 
 It was the old man's duty to keep the booms of 
 several great lumbering companies, and to watch 
 the logs when the river-drivers were engaged else- 
 where. Occasionally he took a place with the 
 men, helping to make cribs and rafts. Dugard 
 worked for one lumber company, Magor for others. 
 Many in the settlement showed Dugard how much 
 he was despised. Some warned him that Magor 
 had said he would break him into pieces ; it seemed 
 possible that Dugard might have a bad hour with 
 the people of Bamber's Boom. Dugard, though 
 he swelled and strutted, showed by a furtive eye 
 and a sinister watchfulness that he felt himself in 
 an atmosphere of danger. But he spoke of his 
 wickedness lightly as, "A slip a little accident, 
 man ami" 
 
 Pierre said to him one day : " Bien, Dugard, you 
 are a bold man to come here again. Or is it that 
 you think old men are cowards ? " 
 
 Dugard, blustering, laid his hand suddenly upon 
 his case-knife. 
 
 Pierre laughed softly, contemptuously, came over, 
 and throwing out his perfectly formed but not 
 robust chest in the fashion of Dugard, added : 
 " Ho, ho, monsieur the butcher, take your time at 
 that. There is too much blood in your carcass. 
 You have quarrels plenty on your hands without
 
 i 5 8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 this. Come, don't be a fool and a scoundrel 
 too!" 
 
 Dugard grinned uneasily, and tried to turn the 
 thing off as a joke, and Pierre, who laughed still a 
 little more, said : " It would be amusing to see 
 old Magor and Dugard fight. It would be so 
 equal." There was a keen edge to Pierre's tones, 
 but Dugard dared not resent it. 
 
 One day Magor and Dugard must meet. The 
 square - timber of the two companies had got 
 tangled at a certain point, and gangs from both 
 must set them loose. They were camped some 
 distance from each other. There was rivalry 
 between them, and it was hinted that if any 
 trouble came from the meeting of Magor and 
 Dugard the gangs would pay off old scores with 
 each other. Pierre wished to prevent this. It 
 seemed to him that the two men should stand 
 alone in the affair. He said as much here and 
 there to members of both camps, for he was free of 
 both : a tribute to his genius at poker. 
 
 The girl, Nora, was apprehensive for her father ; 
 she hated the other man now. Pierre was courteous 
 to her, scrupulous in word and look, and fond of 
 her child. He had always shown a gentleness to 
 children, which seemed little compatible with his 
 character ; but for this young outlaw in the world 
 he had something more. He even laboured care- 
 fully to turn the girl's father in its favour ; but as
 
 AT BAMBER'S BOOM 159 
 
 yet to little purpose. He was thoughtful of the 
 girl too. He only went to the house when he 
 knew her father was present, or when she was 
 away. Once while he was there, Father Halen and 
 his sister, Mrs. Lauder, came. They found Pierre 
 with the child, rocking the cradle, and humming 
 as he did so an old song of the coureurs de bois : 
 
 " Out of the hills comes a little white deer, 
 
 Poor little vaurien, o, ci, ci\ 
 Come to my home, to my home down here, 
 Sister and brother and child o' me 
 Poor little, poor little vaurien 1 " 
 
 Pierre was alone, save for the old woman who 
 had cared for the home since Nora's trouble came. 
 The priest was anxious lest any harm should come 
 from Dugard's presence at Bamber's Boom. He 
 knew Pierre's doubtful reputation, but still he 
 knew he could speak freely and would be answered 
 honestly. 
 
 " What will happen ? " he abruptly asked. 
 
 " What neither you nor I should try to prevent, 
 m'sieu'," was Pierre's reply. 
 
 " Magor will do the man injury?" 
 
 " What would you have ? Put the matter on your 
 own hearthstone, eh? ... Pardon, if I say these 
 things bluntly." Pierre still lightly rocked the 
 cradle with one foot. 
 
 " But vengeance is in God's hands." 
 
 " M'sieu'," said the half-breed, "vengeance also
 
 160 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 is man's, else why did we ten men from Fort 
 Cypress track down the Indians who murdered 
 your brother, the good priest, and kill them one 
 by one ? " 
 
 Father Halen caught his sister as she swayed, 
 and helped her to a chair, then turned a sad face 
 on Pierre. "Were you were you one of that 
 ten ? " he asked, overcome ; and he held out his 
 hand. 
 
 The two river-driving camps joined at Mud Cat 
 Point, where was the crush of great timber. The 
 two men did not at first come face to face, but it 
 was noticed by Pierre, who smoked on the bank 
 while the others worked, that the old man watched 
 his enemy closely. The work of undoing the great 
 twist of logs was exciting, and they fell on each 
 other with a great sound as they were pried off, 
 and went sliding, grinding, into the water. At one 
 spot they were piled together, massive and high. 
 These were left to the last. 
 
 It was here that the two met. Old Magor's face 
 was quiet, if a little haggard, and his eyes looked 
 out from under his shaggy brows piercingly. 
 Dugard's manner was swaggering, and he swore 
 horribly at his gang. Presently he stood at a 
 point alone, working at an obstinate log. He was 
 at the foot of an incline of timber, and he was not 
 aware that Magor had suddenly appeared at the 
 top of that incline. He heard his name called
 
 AT BAMBER'S BOOM 161 
 
 out sharply. Swinging round, he saw Magor 
 thrusting a handspike under a huge timber, hang- 
 ing at the top of the incline. He was standing 
 in a hollow, a kind of trench. He was shaken 
 with fear, for he saw the old man's design. He 
 gave a cry and made as if to jump out of the way, 
 but with a laugh Magor threw his whole weight on 
 the handspike, the great timber slid swiftly down 
 and crushed Dugard from his thighs to his feet, 
 breaking his legs terribly. The old man called 
 down at him : " A slip a little accident, mon 
 ami \ " Then, shouldering his handspike, he made 
 his way through the silent gangs to the shore, and 
 so on homewards. 
 
 Magor had done what he wished. Dugard 
 would be a cripple for life ; his beauty was all 
 spoiled and broken : there was much to do to save 
 his life. 
 
 II 
 
 Nora also about this time took to her bed with 
 fever. Again and again Pierre rode thirty miles 
 and back to get ice for her head. All were kind 
 to her now. The vengeance upon Dugard seemed 
 to have wiped out much of her shame in the eyes of 
 Bamber's Boom. Such is the way of the world. He 
 that has the last blow is in the eye of advantage. 
 When Nora began to recover, the child fell ill 
 also. In the sickness of the child the old man had 
 ii
 
 162 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 a great temptation far greater than that concern- 
 ing Dugard. As the mother grew better the child 
 became much worse. One night the doctor came, 
 driving over from another settlement, and said that 
 if the child got sleep till morning it would probably 
 live, for the crisis had come. He left an opiate to 
 procure the sleep, the same that had been given 
 to the mother. If it did not sleep, it would die. 
 Pierre was present at this time. 
 
 All through the child's illness the old man's 
 mind had been tossed to and fro. If the child 
 died, the living stigma would be gone ; there would 
 be no reminder of his daughter's shame in the 
 eyes of the world. They could go away from 
 Bamber's Boom, and begin life again somewhere. 
 But, then, there was the child itself which had 
 crept into his heart, he knew not how, and would 
 not be driven out He had never, till it was taken 
 ill, even touched it, nor spoken to it To destroy 
 its life ! Well, would it not be better for the child 
 to go out of all possible shame, into peace, the 
 peace of the grave ? 
 
 This night he sat down beside the cradle, holding 
 the bottle of medicine and a spoon in his hand 
 The hot, painful face of the child fascinated him. 
 He looked from it to the bottle, and back, then 
 again to the bottle. He started, and the sweat 
 stood out on his forehead. For though the doctor 
 had told him in words the proper dose, he had by
 
 AT BAMBER'S BOOM 163 
 
 mistake written on the label the same dose as for 
 the mother! Here was the responsibility shifted 
 in any case. More than once the old man un- 
 corked the bottle, and once he dropped out the 
 opiate in the spoon steadily ; but the child opened 
 its suffering eyes at him, its little wasted hand 
 wandered over the coverlet, and he could not do 
 it just then. But again the passion for its destruc- 
 tion came on him, because he heard his daughter 
 moaning in the other room. He said to himself 
 that she would be happier when it was gone. But 
 as he stooped over the cradle, no longer hesitating, 
 the door softly opened, and Pierre entered. The 
 old man shuddered, and .drew back from the cradle. 
 Pierre saw the look of guilt in the old man's face, 
 and his instinct told him what was happening. He 
 took the bottle from the trembling hand, and 
 looked at the label. 
 
 "What is the proper dose?" he asked, seeing 
 that a mistake had been made by the doctor. 
 
 In a hoarse whisper Magor told him. " It may 
 be too late," Pierre added. He knelt down, with 
 light fingers opened the child's mouth, and poured 
 the medicine in slowly. The old man stood for a 
 time rigid, looking at them both. Then he came 
 round to the other side of the cradle, and seated 
 himself beside it, his eyes fixed on the child's face. 
 For a long time they sat there. At last the old 
 man said : " Will he die, Pierre ? "
 
 164 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 "I am afraid so," answered Pierre painfully. 
 " But we shall see." Then early teaching came to 
 him, never to be entirely obliterated, and he 
 added : " Has the child been baptized ? " 
 
 The old man shook his head. "Will you do 
 it ? " asked Pierre hesitatingly. 
 
 " I can't I can't," was the reply. 
 
 Pierre smiled a little ironically, as if at himself, 
 got some water in a cup, came over, and said : 
 
 " Remember, I'm a Papist ! " 
 
 A motion of the hand answered him. 
 
 He dipped his fingers in the water, and dropped 
 it ever so lightly on the child's forehead. 
 
 " George Magor," it was the old man's name, 
 ' I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of 
 the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen." Then 
 he drew the sign of the cross on the infant's 
 forehead. 
 
 Sitting down, he watched beside the child. After 
 a little he heard a long choking sigh. Looking 
 up, he saw tears slowly dropping from Magor's 
 eyes. 
 
 And to this day the child and the mother of the 
 child are dear to the old man's heart
 
 The Bridge House 
 
 IT stood on a wide wall between two small 
 bridges. These were approaches to the big 
 covered bridge spanning the main channel of the 
 Madawaska River, and when swelled by the spring 
 thaws and rains, the two flanking channels divided 
 at the foundations of the house, and rustled away 
 through the narrow paths of the small bridges to 
 the rapids. You could stand at any window in 
 the House and watch the ugly, rushing current, 
 gorged with logs, come battering at the wall, 
 jostle between the piers, and race on to the rocks 
 and the dam and the slide beyond. You stepped 
 from the front door upon the wall, which was a 
 road between the bridges, and from the back door 
 into the river itself. 
 
 The House had once been a tavern. It looked a 
 wayfarer, like its patrons the river-drivers, with 
 whom it was most popular. You felt that it had 
 no part in the career of the village on either side, 
 but was like a rock in a channel, at which a 
 swimmer caught or a vagrant fish loitered. 
 
 Pierre knew the place, when, of a night in the 
 
 165
 
 166 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 springtime or early summer, throngs of river- 
 drivers and their bosses sauntered at its doors, or 
 hung over the raili'ng of the wall, as they talked 
 and smoked. 
 
 The glory of the Bridge House suddenly declined. 
 That was because Finley, the owner, a rich man, 
 came to hate the place his brother's blood stained 
 the bar-room floor. He would have destroyed the 
 house, but that John Rupert, the beggared gentle- 
 man, came to him, and wished to rent it for a 
 dwelling. 
 
 Mr. Rupert was old, and had been miserably 
 poor for many years, but he had a breeding and 
 a manner superior to anyone at Bamber's Boom. 
 He was too old for a labourer, he had no art or 
 craftsmanship ; his little money was gone in 
 foolish speculations, and he was dependent on 
 his granddaughter's slight earnings from music- 
 teaching and needlework. But he rented an acre 
 of ground from Finley, and grew vegetables; he 
 gathered driftwood from the river for his winter 
 fire, and made up the accounts of the storekeeper 
 occasionally. Yet it was merely keeping off starva- 
 , tion. He was not popular. He had no tongue for 
 the meaningless village talk. People held him in 
 a kind of awe, and yet they felt a mean satisfac- 
 tion when they saw him shouldering driftwood, 
 and piling it on the shore to be dragged away 
 the last resort of the poor, for which they blush.
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE 167 
 
 When Mr. Rupert asked for the House, Finley 
 knew the chances were he would not get the rental ; 
 yet, because he was sorry for the old man, he gave 
 it to him at a low rate. He closed up the bar- 
 room, however, and it was never opened after- 
 wards. 
 
 So it was that Mr. Rupert and Judith, his 
 granddaughter, came to live there. Judith was a 
 blithe, lissome creature, who had never known 
 comfort or riches : they were taken from her 
 grandfather before she was born, and her father 
 and mother both died when she was a little 
 child. But she had been taught by her grand- 
 mother, when she lived, and by her grandfather, 
 and she had felt the graces of refined life. Withal, 
 she had a singular sympathy for the rude, strong 
 life of the river. She was glad when they came to 
 live at the Bridge House, and shamed too: glad 
 because they could live apart from the other 
 villagers; shamed because it exposed her to the 
 curiosity of those who visited the House, thinking 
 it was still a tavern. But that was only for a 
 time. 
 
 One night Jules Brydon, the young river-boss, 
 camped with his men at Bamber's Boom. He was 
 of parents Scotch and French, and the amalgama- 
 tion of races in him made a striking product. He 
 was cool and indomitable, yet hearty and joyous. 
 It was exciting to watch him at the head of his
 
 168 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 men, breaking up a jam of logs, and it was a 
 delight to hear him of an evening as he sang : 
 
 " Have you heard the cry of the Long Lachine 
 When happy is the sun in the morning? 
 The rapids long and the banks of green, 
 As we ride away in the morning, 
 
 On the froth of the Long Lachine?" 
 
 One day, soon after they came, the dams and 
 booms were opened above, and forests of logs came 
 riding down to Bamber's Boom. The current was 
 strong, and the logs came on swiftly. As Brydon's 
 gang worked, they saw a man out upon a small 
 raft of driftwood, which had been suddenly caught 
 in the drive of logs, and was carried out towards 
 the middle channel. The river-drivers laughed, 
 for they failed to see that the man was old, and 
 that he could not run across the rolling logs to the 
 shore. The old man, evidently hopeless, laid down 
 his pike-pole, folded his hands, and drifted with 
 the logs. The river - drivers stopped laughing. 
 They began to understand. 
 
 Brydon saw a woman standing at a window of 
 the House waving her arms, and there floated up 
 the river the words, " Father ! father ! " He caught 
 up a pike-pole, and ran over that spinning floor of 
 logs to the raft. The old man's face was white, but 
 there was no fear in his eyes. 
 
 "I cannot run the logs," he said at once; "I 
 never did ; I am too old, and I slip. It's no use.
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE 169 
 
 It is my granddaughter at that window. Tell her 
 that I'll think of her to the last. . . . , Good-bye ! " 
 
 Brydon was eyeing the logs. The old man's 
 voice was husky ; he could not cry out, but he 
 waved his hand to the girl. 
 
 " Oh, save him ! " came from her faintly. 
 
 Brydon's eyes were now on the covered bridge. 
 Their raft was in the channel, coming straight 
 between two piers. He measured his chances. He 
 knew if he slipped, doing what he intended, that 
 both might be drowned, and certainly Mr. Rupert ; 
 for the logs were close, and to drop among them 
 was a bad business. If they once closed over 
 there was an end of everything. 
 
 " Keep quite still," he said, " and when I throw 
 you, catch." 
 
 He took the slight figure in his arms, sprang out 
 upon the slippery logs, and ran. A cheer went up 
 from the men on the shore, and the people who 
 were gathering on the bridges, too late to be of 
 service. Besides, the bridge was closed, and there 
 was only a small opening at the piers. For one of 
 these piers Brydon was making. He ran hard. 
 Once he slipped and nearly fell, but recovered. 
 Then a floating tree suddenly lunged up and struck 
 him, so that he dropped upon a knee ; but again 
 he was up, and strained for the pier. He was 
 within a few feet of it as they came to the bridge. 
 The people gave a cry of fear, for they saw that
 
 iyo AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 there was no chance of both making it ; because, 
 too, at the critical moment a space of clear water 
 showed near the pier. But Brydon raised John 
 Rupert up, balanced himself, and tossed him at 
 the pier, where two river-drivers stood stretching 
 out their arms. An instant afterwards the old man 
 was with his granddaughter. But Brydon slipped 
 and fell ; the roots of a tree bore him down, and 
 he was gone beneath the logs ! 
 
 There was a cry of horror from the watchers, 
 then all was still. But below the bridge they saw 
 an arm thrust up between the logs, and then 
 another arm crowding them apart. Now a head 
 and shoulders appeared. Luckily the piece ot 
 timber which Brydon grasped was square, and did 
 not roll. In a moment he was standing on it. 
 There was a wild shout of encouragement. He 
 turned his battered, blood-stained face to the bridge 
 for an instant, and, with a wave of the hand and a 
 sharp look towards the rapids below, once more 
 sprang out. It was a brave sight, for the logs 
 were in a narrower channel and more riotous. 
 He rubbed the blood out of his eyes that he 
 might see his way. The rolling forest gave him 
 no quarter, but he came on, rocking with weak- 
 ness, to within a few rods of the shore. Then a 
 half-dozen of his men ran out on the logs, they 
 were packed closely here, caught him up, and 
 brought him to dry ground
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE 17! 
 
 They took him to the Bridge House. He was 
 hurt more than he or they thought. The old 
 man and the girl met them at the door. Judith 
 gave a little cry when she saw the blood and 
 Brydon's bruised face. He lifted his head as 
 though her eyes had drawn his, and, their looks 
 meeting, he took his hat off. Her face flushed ; 
 she dropped .her eyes. Her grandfather seized 
 Brydon's big hand, and said some trembling words 
 of thanks. The girl stepped inside, made a bed for 
 him upon the sofa, and got him something to drink. 
 She was very cool ; she immediately asked Pierre 
 to go for the young doctor who had lately come to 
 the place, and made ready warm water with which 
 she wiped Brydon's blood-stained face and hands, 
 and then gave him some brandy. His comrades 
 standing round watched her admiringly, she was 
 so deft and delicate. Brydon, as if to be nursed 
 and cared for was not manly, felt ashamed, and 
 came up quickly to a sitting posture, saying, 
 "Pshaw! I'm all right!" But he turned sick 
 immediately, and Judith's arms caught his head 
 and shoulders as he fell back. His face turned, 
 and was pillowed on her bosom. At this she 
 blushed, but a look of singular dignity came into 
 her face. Those standing by were struck with 
 a kind of awe ; they were used mostly to the 
 daughters of habitants and fifty-acre farmers. Her 
 sensitive face spoke a wonderful language : a
 
 172 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 divine gratitude and thankfulness; and her eyes 
 had a clear moisture which did not dim them. 
 The situation was trying to the river-drivers it 
 was too refined ; and they breathed more freely 
 when they got outside and left the girl, her grand- 
 father, Pierre, and the young doctor alone with 
 the injured man. 
 
 That was how the thing began. Pierre saw the 
 conclusion of events from the start. The young 
 doctor did not. From the hour when he bound 
 up Brydon's head, Judith's fingers aiding him, he 
 felt a spring in his blood new to him. When he 
 came to know exactly what it meant, and acted, it 
 was too late. He was much surprised that his 
 advances were gently repulsed. He pressed them 
 hard : that was a mistake. He had an idea, not 
 uncommon in such cases, that he was conferring 
 an honour. But he was very young. A gold 
 medal in anatomy is likely to turn a lad's head at 
 the start. He falls into the error that the ability 
 to demonstrate the medulla oblongata should like- 
 wise suffice to convince the heart of a maid. Pierre 
 enjoyed the situation ; he knew life all round ; he 
 had boxed the compass of experience. He be- 
 lieved in Judith. The old man interested him : he 
 was a wreck out of an unfamiliar life. 
 
 " Well, you see," Pierre said to Brydon one day, 
 as they sat on the high cross-beams of the little 
 bridge, " you can't kill it in a man what he was
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE 173 
 
 born. Look, as he piles up the driftwood over 
 there. Broken down, eh ? Yes, but then there is 
 something a manner, an eye. He piles the wood 
 like champagne bottles. On the raft, you remember, 
 he took off his hat to death. That's different 
 altogether from us ! " 
 
 He gave a sidelong glance at Brydon, and saw a 
 troubled look. 
 
 "Yes," Brydon said, "he is different ; and so is she." 
 
 " She is a lady," Pierre said, with slow emphasis. 
 " She couldn't hide it if she tried. She plays the 
 piano, and looks all silk in calico. Made for 
 this?" he waved his hand towards the Bridge 
 House. " No, no ! made for " 
 
 He paused, smiled enigmatically, and dropped a 
 bit of wood on the swift current 
 
 Brydcn frowned, then said: "Well, made for 
 what, Pierre ? " 
 
 Pierre looked over Brydon's shoulder, towards a 
 pretty cottage on the hillside. " Made for homes 
 like that, not this," he said, and he nodded first 
 towards the hillside, then to the Bridge House. 
 (The cottage belonged to the young doctor.) A 
 growl like an animal's came from Brydon, and he 
 clinched the other's shoulder. Pierre glanced at 
 the hand, then at Brydon's face, and said sharply : 
 " Take it away." 
 
 The hand dropped ; but Brydon's face was hot, 
 and his eyes were hard.
 
 174 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Pierre continued : " But then women are strange. 
 What you expect they will not no. Riches ? it is 
 nothing ; houses like that on the hill, nothing. 
 They have whims. The hut is as good as the 
 house, with the kitchen in the open where the river 
 welts and washes, and a man the great man of 
 the world to them to play the little game of life 
 with .... Pshaw ! you are idle : move ; you are 
 thick in the head : think hard ; you like the 
 girl : speak." 
 
 As he said this, there showed beneath them the 
 front timbers of a small crib of logs with a crew of 
 two men, making for the rapids and the slide below. 
 Here was an adventure, for running the rapids 
 with so slight a craft and small a crew was smart 
 work. Pierre, measuring the distance, and with a 
 " Look out, below ! " swiftly let himself down by 
 his arms as far as he could, and then dropped to 
 the timbers, as lightly as if it were a matter of two 
 feet instead of twelve. He waved a hand to 
 Brydon, and the crib shot on. Brydon sat eyeing 
 it abstractedly till it ran into the teeth of the 
 rapids, the long oars of the three men rising and 
 falling to the monotonous cry. The sun set out 
 the men and the craft against the tall dark walls 
 of the river in strong relief, and Brydon was 
 carried away from what Pierre had been saying. 
 He had a solid pleasure in watching, and he sat up 
 with a call of delight when he saw the crib drive
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE 175 
 
 at the slide. Just glancing the edge, she shot 
 through safely. His face blazed. 
 
 " A pretty sight ! " said a voice behind him. 
 
 Without a word he swung round, and dropped, 
 more heavily than Pierre, beside Judith. 
 
 " It gets into our bones," he said. " Of course, 
 though, it ain't the same to you," he added, looking 
 down at her over his shoulder. " You don't care 
 for things so rough, mebbe ? " 
 
 " I love the river," she said quietly. 
 
 " We're a rowdy lot, we river-drivers. We have 
 to be. It's a rowdy business." 
 
 " I never noticed that," she replied, gravely 
 smiling. " When I was small I used to go to the 
 river-drivers' camps with my brother, and they 
 were always kind to us. They used to sing and 
 play the fiddle, and joke ; but I didn't think then 
 that they were rowdy, and I don't now. They 
 were never rough with us." 
 
 " No one 'd ever be rough with you," was the reply. 
 
 "Oh yes," she said suddenly, and turned her 
 head away. She was thinking of what the young 
 doctor had said to her that morning ; how like a 
 foolish boy he had acted : upbraiding her, ques- 
 tioning her, saying unreasonable things, as young 
 egoists always do. In years she was younger than 
 he, but in wisdom much older : in all things more 
 wise and just. He had not struck her, but with his 
 reckless tongue he had cut her to the heart
 
 176 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " Oh yes," she repeated, and her eyes ran up to 
 his face and over his great stalwart body,; and 
 then she leaned over the railing and looked into 
 the water. 
 
 " I'd break the man into pieces that was rough 
 with you," he said between his teeth. 
 
 " Would you ? " she asked in a whisper. Then, 
 not giving him a chance to reply, " We are very 
 poor, you know, and some people are rough with 
 the poor and proud. I remember," she went on, 
 simply, dreamily, and as if talking to herself, " the 
 day when we first came to the Bridge House. I 
 sat down on a box and looked at the furniture it 
 was so little and cried. Coming here seemed the 
 last of what grandfather used to be. I couldn't 
 help it. He sat down too, and didn't say any- 
 thing. He was very pale, and I saw that his 
 eyes ached as he looked at me. Then I got angry 
 with myself, and sprang up and went to work 
 and we get along pretty well." 
 
 She paused and sighed ; then, after a minute : 
 " I love the river. I don't believe I could be 
 happy away from it. I should like to live on it, 
 and die on it, and be buried in it" 
 
 His eyes were on her eagerly. But she looked 
 so frail and dainty that his voice, to himself, 
 sounded rude. Still, his hand blundered along the 
 railing to hers, and covered it tenderly for so big 
 a hand. She drew her fingers away, but not very
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE 177 
 
 quickly. " Don't ! " she said, " and and someone 
 is coming ! " 
 
 There were footsteps behind them. It was her 
 grandfather, carrying a board fished from the river. 
 He grasped the situation, and stood speechless 
 with wonder. He had never thought of this. 
 He was a gentleman, in spite of all, and this man 
 was a common river- boss. Presently he drew 
 himself up with an air. The heavy board was still 
 in his arms. Brydon came over and took the 
 board, looking him squarely in the eyes. 
 
 "Mr. Rupert," he said, "I want to ask some- 
 thing." 
 
 The old man nodded. 
 
 "I helped you out of a bad scrape on the river?" 
 
 Again the old man nodded. 
 
 " Well, mebbe, I saved your life. For that I'm 
 going to ask you to draw no more driftwood from 
 the Madawaska not a stick, now or ever." 
 
 " It is the only way we can keep from freezing 
 in winter." Mr. Rupert scarcely knew what he 
 said. 
 
 Brydon looked at Judith, who turned away, then 
 answered : " /'// keep you from freezing, if you'll 
 let me, you and Judith." 
 
 "Oh, please let us go into the house," Judith 
 said hastily. 
 
 She saw the young doctor driving towards 
 them out of the covered bridge 1 
 
 12
 
 iy8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 When Brydon went to join his men far down 
 the river he left a wife behind him at the Bridge 
 House, where she and her grandfather were to 
 stay until the next summer. Then there would 
 be a journey from Bamber's Boom to a new 
 home. 
 
 In the late autumn he came, before he went 
 away to the shanties in the backwoods, and again 
 in the winter just before the babe was born. Then 
 he went far up the river to Rice Lake and beyond, 
 to bring down the drives of logs for his Company. 
 June came, and then there was a sudden sorrow 
 at the Bridge House, How great it was, Pierre's 
 words as he stood at the door one evening will 
 testify. He said to the young doctor : " Save the 
 child, and you shall have back the I O U on your 
 house." Which was also evidence that the young 
 doctor had fallen into the habit of gambling. 
 
 The young doctor looked hard at him.- He 
 had a selfish nature. " You can only do what you 
 can do," he said. 
 
 Pierre's eyes were sinister. " If you do not save 
 it, one would guess why." 
 
 The other started, flushed, was silent, and 
 then said : " You think I'm a coward. We shall 
 see. There is a way, but it may fail." 
 
 And though he sucked the diphtheria poison 
 from the child's throat, it died the next night. 
 
 Still, the cottage that Pierre and Company had
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE 179 
 
 won was handed back with such good advice as 
 only a world-wise adventurer can give. 
 
 Of the child's death its father did not know. 
 They were not certain where he was. But when 
 the mother took to her bed again, the young 
 doctor said it was best that Brydon should 
 come. Pierre had time and inclination to go for 
 him. But before he went he was taken to Judith's 
 bedside. Pierre had seen life and death in many 
 forms, but never anything quite like this : a deli- 
 cate creature floating away upon a summer current: 
 travelling in those valleys which are neither of this 
 life nor of that ; but where you hear the echoes of 
 both, and are visited by solicitous spirits. There 
 was no pain in her face she heard a little, familiar 
 voice from high and pleasant hills, and she knew, 
 so wise are the dying, that her husband was travel- 
 ling after her, and that they would be all together 
 soon. But she did not speak of that. For the 
 knowledge born of such a time is locked up in the 
 soul. 
 
 Pierre was awe - stricken. Unconsciously he 
 crossed himself. 
 
 "Tell him to come quickly," she said, "if you 
 find him," her fingers played with the coverlet, 
 "for I wish to comfort him. . . . Someone said 
 that you were bad, Pierre. I do not believe it 
 You were sorry when my baby went away. I am 
 going away too. But do not tell him that
 
 i8o AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Tell him I cannot walk about. I want him to 
 carry me to carry me. Will you ? " 
 
 Pierre put out his hand to hers creeping along 
 the coverlet to him ; but it was only instinct that 
 guided him, for he could not see. He started on 
 his journey with his hat pulled down over his eyes. 
 
 One evening when the river was very high and it 
 was said that Brydon's drives of logs would soon be 
 down,a strange thing happened at the Bridge House. 
 
 The young doctor had gone, whispering to Mr. 
 Rupert that he would come back later. He went 
 out on tiptoe, as from the presence of an angel. 
 His selfishness had dropped away from him. The 
 evening wore on, and in the little back room a 
 woman's voice said : 
 
 " Is it morning yet, father ? " 
 
 " It is still day. The sun has not set, my child." 
 
 " I thought it had gone, it seemed so dark." 
 
 "You have been asleep, Judith. You have come 
 out of the dark." 
 
 " No, I have come out into the darkness into 
 the world." 
 
 " You will see better when you are quite awake." 
 
 " I wish I could see the river, father. Will you 
 go and look ? " 
 
 Then there was a silence " Well ? " she asked. 
 
 ' It is beautiful/' he said, "and the sun is still 
 bright." 
 
 "You see as far as Indian Island?"
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE 181 
 
 " I can see the white comb of the reef beyond it, 
 my dear." 
 
 " And no one is coming ? w 
 
 " There are men making for the shore, and the 
 fires are burning, but no one is coming this way. 
 . . . He would come by the road, perhaps." 
 
 " Oh no, by the river. Pierre has not found 
 him. Can you see the Eddy ? " 
 
 "Yes. It is all quiet there; nothing but the 
 logs tossing round it." 
 
 "We used to sit there he and I by the big 
 cedar tree. Everything was so cool and sweet. 
 There was only the sound of the force-pump and 
 the swallowing of the Eddy. They say that a 
 woman was drowned there, and that you can see 
 her face in the water, if you happen there at 
 sunrise, weeping and smiling also : a picture in the 
 water. . . . Do you think it true, father?" 
 
 " Life is so strange, and who knows what is not 
 life, my child ? " 
 
 " When baby was dying I held it over the water 
 beneath that window, where the sunshine falls in 
 the evening ; and it looked down once before its 
 spirit passed like a breath over my face. Maybe, 
 its look will stay, for him to see when he comes. 
 It was just below where you stand. . . . Father, 
 can you see its face ? " 
 
 " No, Judith ; nothing but the water and the 
 sunshine 1 "
 
 i82 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " Dear, carry me to the window." 
 
 When this was done she suddenly leaned forward 
 with shining eyes and anxious fingers. "My baby! 
 My baby ! " she said. 
 
 She looked up the river, but her eyes were 
 fading, she could not see far. " It is all a grey 
 light," she said, " I cannot see well." Yet she 
 smiled. " Lay me down again, father," she whis- 
 pered. 
 
 After a little she sank into a slumber. All at 
 once she started up. " The river, the beautiful 
 river!" she cried out gently. Then, at the last, 
 " Oh, my dear, my dear ! " 
 
 And so she came out of the valley into the 
 high hills. 
 
 Later he was left alone with his dead. The 
 young doctor and others had come and gone. 
 He would watch till morning. He sat long beside 
 her, numb to the world. At last he started, for 
 he heard a low, clear call behind the House. He 
 went out quickly to the little platform, and saw 
 through the dusk a man drawing himself up. It 
 was Brydon. He caught the old man's shoulders 
 convulsively. " How is she ? " he asked. 
 
 " Come in, my son," was the low reply. The old 
 man saw a grief greater than his own. He led the 
 husband to the room where the wife lay beautiful 
 and still. 
 
 ** She is better, as you see," he said bravely.
 
 THE BRIDGE HOUSE 183 
 
 The hours went, and the two sat near the body, 
 one on either side. They knew not what was 
 going on in the world. 
 
 As they mourned, Pierre and the young doctor 
 sat silent in that cottage on the hillside. They 
 were roused at last. There came up to Pierre's 
 keen ears the sound of the river. 
 
 " Let us go out," he said ; " the river is flooding. 
 You can hear the logs." 
 
 They came out and watched. The river went 
 swishing, swilling past, and the dull boom of the 
 logs as they struck the piers of the bridge or some 
 building on the shore came rolling to them. 
 
 " The dams and booms have burst ! " Pierre 
 said. 
 
 He pointed to the camps far up the river. By 
 the light of the camp-fires there appeared a wide 
 weltering flood of logs and debris. Pierre's eyes 
 shifted to the Bridge House. In one room was a 
 light. He stepped out and down, and the other 
 followed. They had almost reached the shore, 
 when Pierre cried out sharply : " What's that ? " 
 
 He pointed to an indistinct mass bearing down 
 upon the Bridge House. It was a big shed that 
 had been carried away, and, jammed between 
 timbers, had not broken up. There was no time for 
 warning. It came on swiftly, heavily. There was 
 a strange, horrible, grinding sound, and then they 
 saw the light of that one room move on, waving a
 
 184 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 little to and fro on to the rapids, the cohorts of 
 logs crowding hard after. 
 
 Where the light was two men had started to 
 their feet when the crash came. They felt the 
 House move. "Run save yourself!" cried the 
 old man quietly. " We are lost ! " 
 
 The floor rocked. 
 
 " Go," he said again. I will stay with her." 
 
 " She is mine," Brydon said ; and he took her 
 in his arms. " I will not go." 
 
 They could hear the rapids below. The old 
 man steadied himself in the deep water on the, 
 floor, and caught out yearningly at the cold 
 hands. 
 
 " Come close, come close," said Brydon. 
 " Closer ; put your arms round her." 
 
 The old man did so They were locked in each 
 other's arms dead and living. 
 
 The old man spoke, with a piteous kind of joy : 
 " We therefore commit her body to tlie deep 1 " 
 
 The three were jiever found.
 
 The Epaulettes 
 
 OLD Athabasca, chief of the Little Crees, sat 
 at the door of his lodge, staring down 
 into the valley where Fort Pentecost lay, and 
 Mitawawa his daughter sat near him, fretfully 
 pulling at the fringe of her fine buckskin jacket. 
 She had reason to be troubled. Fyles the trader 
 had put a great indignity upon Athabasca. A 
 factor of twenty years before, in recognition of the 
 chiefs merits and in reward of his services, had. 
 presented him with a pair of epaulettes, left in the 
 Fort by some officer in Her Majesty's service. A 
 good, solid, honest pair of epaulettes, well fitted 
 to stand the wear and tear of those high feasts and 
 functions at which the chief paraded them upon 
 his broad shoulders. They were the admiration 
 of his own tribe, the wonder of others, the envy of 
 many chiefs. It was said that Athabasca wore them 
 creditably, and was no more immobile and grand- 
 mannered than became a chief thus honoured 
 above his kind. 
 
 But the years went, and there came a man to 
 Fort Pentecost who knew not Athabasca. He 
 
 185
 
 186 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 was young, and tall and strong, had a hot temper, 
 knew naught of human nature, was possessed by 
 a pride more masterful than his wisdom, and a 
 courage stronger than his tact. He was ever for 
 high-handedness, brooked no interference, and 
 treated the Indians more as Company's serfs than 
 as Company's friends and allies. Also, he had an 
 eye for Mitawawa, and found favour in return, 
 though to what depth it took a long time to show. 
 The girl sat high in the minds and desires of the 
 young braves, for she had beauty of a heathen 
 kind, a deft and dainty finger for embroidered 
 buckskin, a particular fortune with a bow and 
 arrow, and the fleetest foot. There were mutter- 
 ings because Fyles the white man came to sit 
 often in Athabasca's lodge. He knew of this, but 
 heeded not at all. At last Konto, a young brave 
 who very accurately guessed at Fyles' intentions, 
 stopped him one day on the Grey Horse Trail, 
 and in a soft, indolent voice begged him to prove 
 his regard in a fight without weapons, to the 
 death, the survivor to give the other burial where 
 he fell. Fyles was neither fool nor coward. It would 
 have been foolish to run the risk of leaving Fort and 
 people masterless for an Indian's whim ; it would 
 have been cowardly to do nothing. So he whipped 
 out a revolver, and bade his rival march before 
 him to the Fort ; which Konto very calmly did 
 begging the favour of a bit of tobacco as he went.
 
 THE EPAULETTES 187 
 
 Fyles demanded of Athabasca that he should 
 sit in judgment, and should at least banish Konto 
 from his tribe, hinting the while that he might 
 have to put a bullet into Konto's refractory head 
 if the thing were not done. He said large things 
 in the name of the H.B.C., and was surprised that 
 Athabasca let them pass unmoved. But that 
 chief, after long consideration, during which he 
 drank Company's coffee and ate Company's 
 pemmican, declared that he could do nothing: for 
 Konto had made a fine offer, and a grand chance 
 of a great fight had been missed. This was in 
 the presence of several petty officers and Indians 
 and woodsmen at the Fort Fyles had vanity and 
 a nasty temper. He swore a little, and with 
 words of bluster went over and ripped the epau- 
 lettes from the chief's shoulders, as a punishment, 
 a mark of degradation. The chief said nothing. 
 He got up, and reached out his hands as if to ask 
 them back ; and when Fyles refused, he went 
 away, drawing his blanket high over his shoulders. 
 It was wont before to lie loosely about him, to 
 show his badges of captaincy and alliance. 
 
 This was about the time that the Indians were 
 making ready for the buffalo, and when their chief 
 took to his lodge, and refused to leave it, they 
 came to ask him why. And they were told. 
 They were for making trouble, but the old chief 
 said the quarrel was his own : he would settle it
 
 i88 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 in his own way. He would not go to the hunt 
 Konto, he said, should take his place ; and when 
 his braves came back there should be great 
 feasting, for then the matter would be ended. 
 
 Half the course of the moon and more, and 
 Athabasca came out of his lodge the first 
 time in the sunlight since the day of his dis- 
 grace. He and his daughter sat silent and 
 watchful at the door. There had been no word 
 between Fyles and Athabasca, no word between 
 Mitawawa and Fyles. The Fort was well-nigh 
 tenantless, for the half-breeds also had gone after 
 buffalo, and only the trader, a clerk, and a half- 
 breed cook were left. 
 
 Mitawawa gave a little cry of impatience: she had 
 held her peace so long that even her slow Indian 
 nature could endure no more. " What will my father 
 Athabasca do?" she asked. "With idleness the 
 flesh grows soft, and the iron melts from the arm.' 
 
 " But when the thoughts are stone, the body is 
 as that of the Mighty Men of the Kimash Hills. 
 When the bow is long drawn, beware the arrow." 
 
 " It is no answer," she said : " what will my 
 father do ? " 
 
 " They were of gold," he answered, " that never 
 grew rusty. My people were full of wonder when 
 they stood before me, and the tribes had envy as 
 they passed. It is a hundred moons and one red 
 midsummer moon since the Great Company put
 
 THE EPAULETTES 189 
 
 them on my shoulders. They were light to carry, 
 but it was as if I bore an army. No other chief 
 was like me. That is all over. When the tribes 
 pass they will laugh, and my people will scorn me 
 if I do not come out to meet them with the yokes 
 of gold." 
 
 " But what will my father do ? " she persisted. 
 
 " I have had many thoughts, and at night I 
 have called on the Spirits who rule. From the 
 top of the Hill of Graves I have beaten the soft 
 drum, and called, and sung the hymn which 
 wakes the sleeping Spirits : and I know the way." 
 
 " What is the way ? " Her eyes filled with a 
 kind of fear or trouble, -, and many times they 
 shifted from the Fort to her father, and back 
 again. The chief was silent. Then anger leapt 
 into her face. 
 
 " Why does my lather fear to speak to his 
 child?" she said. "I will speak plain. I love 
 the man : but I love my father also." 
 
 She stood up, and drew her blanket about her, 
 one hand clasped proudly on her breast. " I 
 cannot remember my mother ; but I remember 
 when I first looked down from my hammock in 
 the pine tree, and saw my father sitting by the 
 fire. It was in the evening like this, but darker 
 for the pines made great shadows. I cried out, 
 and he came and took me down, and laid me 
 between his knees, and fed me with bits of meat
 
 igo AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 from the pot. He talked much to me, and his 
 voice was finer than any other. There is no one 
 like my father Konto is nothing : but the voice 
 of the white man, Fyles, had golden words that 
 our braves do not know, and I listened. Konto 
 did a brave thing. Fyles, because he was a great 
 man of the Company, would not fight, and drove 
 him like a dog. Then he made my father as a 
 worm in the eyes of the world. I would give my 
 life for Fyles the trader, but I would give more 
 than my life to wipe out my father's shame, and 
 to show that Konto of the Little Crees is no dog. 
 I have been carried by the hands of the old men 
 of my people, I have ridden the horses of the 
 young men : their shame is my shame." 
 
 The eyes of the chief had never lifted from the 
 Fort: nor from his look could you have told that 
 he heard his daughter's words. For a moment 
 he was silent, then a deep fire came into his eyes, 
 and his wide heavy brows drew up so that the 
 frown of anger was gone. At last, as she waited, 
 he arose, put out a hand and touched her forehead. 
 
 " Mitawawa has spoken well," he said. " There 
 will be an end. The yokes of gold are mine : an 
 honour given cannot be taken away. He has 
 stolen ; he is a thief. He would not fight Konto : 
 but I am a chief and he shall fight me. I am as 
 great as many men I have carried the golden 
 yokes : we will fight for them. I thought long, for
 
 THE EPAULETTES 191 
 
 I was afraid my daughter loved the man more than 
 her people : but now I will break him in pieces. 
 Has Mitawawa seen him since the shameful day?" 
 
 " He has come to the lodge, but I would not let 
 him in unless he brought the epaulettes. He said 
 he would bring them when Konto was punished. 
 I begged of him as I never begged of my own 
 father, but he was hard as the ironwood tree. I 
 sent him away. Yet there is no tongue like his in 
 the world ; he is tall and beautiful, and has the 
 face of a spirit." 
 
 From the Fort Fyles watched the two. With a 
 pair of field-glasses he could follow their actions, 
 could almost read their faces. " There'll be a lot 
 of sulking about those epaulettes, Mallory," he said 
 at last, turning to his clerk. " Old Athabasca has 
 a bee in his bonnet." 
 
 "Wouldn't it be just as well to give 'em back, 
 sir?" Mallory had been at Fort Pentecost a long 
 time, and he understood Athabasca and his Indians. 
 He was a solid, slow-thinking old fellow, but he 
 had that wisdom of the north which can turn from 
 dove to serpent and from serpent to lion in the 
 moment. 
 
 " Give 'em back, Mallory ? I'll see him in Jericho 
 first, unless he goes on his marrow-bones and kicks 
 Konto out of the camp." 
 
 " Very well, sir. But I think we'd better keep 
 an eye open."
 
 192 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " Eye open, be hanged ! If he'd been going to 
 riot he'd have done so before this. Besides, the 
 girl-!" 
 
 Mallory looked long and earnestly at his master, 
 whose forehead was glued to the field-glass. His 
 little eyes moved as if in debate, his slow jaws 
 opened once or twice. At last he said : " I'd give 
 the girl the go-by, Mr. Fyles, if I was you, unless I 
 meant to marry her." 
 
 Fyles suddenly swung round. "Keep your 
 place, blast you, Mallory, and keep your morals 
 too. One 'd think you were a missionary." Then 
 with a sudden burst of anger : " Damn it all, if my 
 men don't stand by me against a pack of treacher- 
 ous Indians, I'd better get out." 
 
 "Your men will stand by you, sir: no fear. 
 I've served three traders here, and my record is 
 pretty clean, Mr. Fyles. But I'll say it to your 
 face, whether you like it or not, that you're not as 
 good a judge of the Injin as me, or even Due 
 the cook : and that's straight as I can say it, Mr. 
 Fyles." 
 
 Fyles paced up and down in anger not speak- 
 ing ; but presently threw up the glass, and looked 
 towards Athabasca's lodge. "They're gone," he 
 said presently ; " I'll go and see them to-morrow. 
 The old fool must do what I want, or there'll be 
 ructions." 
 
 The moon was high over Fort Pentecost when
 
 THE EPAULETTES 193 
 
 Athabasca entered the silent yard. The dogs 
 growled, but Indian dogs growl without reason, 
 and no one heeds them. The old chief stood a 
 moment looking at the windows, upon which slush- 
 lights were throwing heavy shadows. He went 
 to Fyles' window : no one was in the room. He 
 went to another: Mallory and Due were sitting 
 at a table. Mallory had the epaulettes, looking at 
 them and fingering the hooks by which Athabasca 
 had fastened them on. Due was laughing: he 
 reached over for an epaulette, tossed it up, caught 
 it and threw it down with a guffaw. Then the 
 door opened, and Athabasca walked in, seized 
 the epaulettes, and went swiftly out again. Just 
 outside the door Mallory clapped a hand on one 
 shoulder, and Due caught at the epaulettes. 
 
 Athabasca struggled wildly. All at once there 
 was a cold white flash, and Due came huddling 
 to Mallory 's feet. For a brief instant Mallory and 
 the Indian fell apart, then Athabasca with a con- 
 temptuous fairness tossed his knife away, and ran 
 in on his man. They closed ; strained, swayed, be- 
 came a tangled wrenching mass ; and then Mallory 
 was lifted high into the air, and came down with 
 a broken back. 
 
 Athabasca picked up the epaulettes, and hurried 
 
 away, breathing hard, and hugging them to his 
 
 bare red-stained breast. He had nearly reached 
 
 the gate when he heard a cry. He did not turn 
 
 '3
 
 i 9 4 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 but a heavy stone caught him high in the shoulders, 
 and he fell on his face and lay clutching the 
 epaulettes in his outstretched hands. 
 
 Fyles' own hands were yet lifted with the effort 
 of throwing, when he heard the soft rush of foot- 
 steps, and someone came swiftly into his em- 
 brace. A pair of arms ran round his shoulders 
 lips closed with his something ice-cold and hard 
 touched his neck he saw a bright flash at his 
 throat. 
 
 In the morning Konto found Mitawawa sitting 
 with wild eyes by her father's body. She had 
 fastened the epaulettes on its shoulders. Fyles 
 and his men made a grim triangle of death at the 
 door of the Fort
 
 The Finding of Fingall 
 
 " C'lNGALL t Fingall/ Oh, Fingall/* 
 J- A grey mist was rising from the river, the 
 sun was drinking it delightedly, the swift blue 
 water showed underneath it, and the top of White- 
 faced Mountain peaked the mist by a hand-length. 
 The river brushed the banks like rustling silk, and 
 the only other sound, very sharp and clear in the 
 liquid monotone, was the crack of a woodpecker's 
 beak on a hickory tree. 
 
 It was a sweet, fresh autumn morning in Lone- 
 some Valley. Before night the deer would bellow 
 reply to the hunters' rifles, and the mountain-goat 
 call to its unknown gods ; but now there was only 
 the wild duck skimming the river, and the high hill- 
 top rising and fading into the mist, the ardent sun, 
 and again that strange cry 
 
 "Fingall! Oh, Fingall t Fingall!" 
 
 Two men, lounging at a fire on a ledge of the 
 hills, raised their eyes to the mountain-side beyond 
 and above them, and one said presently : 
 
 "The second time. It's a woman's voice, 
 Pierre." 
 
 105
 
 196 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Pierre nodded, and abstractedly stirred the coals 
 about with a twig. 
 
 " Well, it is a pity the poor Cynthie," he said 
 at last 
 
 " It is a woman, then. You know her, Pierre 
 her story ? " 
 
 " Fingall ! Fingall I Oh, Fingall ! " 
 
 Pierre raised his head towards the sound ; then 
 after a moment, said : 
 
 " I know Fingall." 
 
 " And the woman ? Tell me." 
 
 " And the girl. Fingall was all fire and heart, and 
 devil-may-care. She she was not beautiful except 
 in the eye, but that was like a flame of red and 
 blue. Her hair, too then would trip her up, if it 
 hung loose. That was all, except that she loved 
 him too much. But women ctpuis> when a woman 
 gets a man between her and the heaven above and 
 the earth beneath, and there comes the great hunger, 
 what is the good ? A man cannot understand, but 
 he can see, and he can fear. What is the good ? 
 To play with life, that is not much ; but to play 
 with a soul is more than a thousand lives. Look 
 at Cynthie." 
 
 He paused, and Lawless waited patiently. 
 Presently Pierre continued : 
 
 " Fingall was gentil ; he would take off his hat to 
 a squaw. It made no difference what others did ; 
 he didn't think it was like breathing to him.
 
 THE FINDING OF FINGALL 197 
 
 How can you tell the way things happen? Cynthie's 
 father kept the tavern at St Gabriel's Fork, over 
 against the great sawmill. Fingall was foreman of 
 a gang in the lumber-yard. Cynthie had a brother 
 Fenn. Fenn was as bad as they make, but she 
 loved him, and Fingall knew it well, though he 
 hated the young skunk. The girl's eyes were like 
 two little fireflies when Fingall was about 
 
 " He was a gentleman, though he had only half 
 a name Fingall like that I think he did not 
 expect to stay ; he seemed to be waiting for some- 
 thing always when the mail come in he would 
 be there ; and afterwards you wouldn't see him for 
 a time. So it seemed to me that he made up his 
 mind to think nothing of Cynthie, and to say 
 nothing." 
 
 " Fingall I Fingall ! Oh, Fingall I " 
 The strange, sweet, singing voice sounded nearer. 
 " She's coming this way, Pierre," said Lawless. 
 " I hope not to see her. What is the good ? " 
 " Well, let us have the rest of the story." 
 " Her brother Fenn was in Fingall's gang. One 
 day there was trouble. Fenn called Fingall a liar. 
 The gang stopped piling ; the usual thing did not 
 come. Fingall told him to leave the yard, and they 
 would settle some other time. That night a wicked 
 thing happened. We were sitting in the bar-room 
 when we heard two shots and then a fall. We ran into 
 the other room ; there was Fenn on the floor, dying.
 
 198 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 He lifted himself on his elbow, pointed at Fingall 
 and fell back. The father of the boy stood white 
 and still a few feet away. There was no pistol 
 showing none at all. 
 
 " The men closed in on Fingall. He did not stir 
 he seemed to be thinking of something else. He 
 had a puzzled, sorrowful look. The men roared 
 round him, but he waved them back for a moment, 
 and looked first at the father, then at the son. I 
 could not understand at first. Someone pulled a 
 pistol out of Fingall's pocket and showed it. At 
 that moment Cynthie came in. She gave a cry. 
 By the holy ! I do not want to hear a cry like that 
 often ! She fell on her knees beside the boy, and 
 caught his head to her breast. Then with a wild 
 look she asked who did it. They had just taken 
 Fingall out into the bar-room. They did not tell 
 her his name, for they knew that she loved him. 
 
 " ' Father/ she said all at once, ' have you killed 
 the man that killed Fenn ? ' 
 
 " The old man shook his head. There was a sick 
 colour in his face. 
 
 "'Then I will kill him,' she said. 
 
 " She laid her brother's head down, and stood up. 
 Someone put in her hand the pistol, and told her 
 it was the same that had killed Fenn. She took it, 
 and came with us. The old man stood still where 
 he was ; he was like stone. I looked at him for a 
 minute and thought; then I turned round and
 
 THE FINDING OF FINGALL 199 
 
 went to the bar-room ; and he followed. Just as 
 I got inside the door, I saw the girl start back, 
 and her hand drop, for she saw that it was 
 Fingall ; he was looking at hef very strange. 
 It was the rule to empty the gun into a man who 
 had been sentenced ; and already Fingall had heard 
 his, ' God-have-mercy ! ' The girl was to do it. 
 
 " Fingall said to her in a muffled voice, ' Fire 
 Cynthie ! ' 
 
 " I guessed what she would do. In a kind of a 
 dream she raised the pistol up up up, till I could 
 see it was just out of range of his head, and she 
 fired. One ! two ! three ! four ! five ! Fingall never 
 moved a muscle ; but the bullets spotted the wall at 
 the side of his head. She stopped after the five ; 
 but the arm was still held out, and her finger was 
 on the trigger; she seemed to be all dazed. Only 
 six chambers were in the gun, and of course one 
 chamber was empty. Fenn had its bullet in his 
 lungs, as we thought. So someone beside Cynthie 
 touched her arm, pushing it down. But there was 
 another shot, and this time, because of the push, the 
 bullet lodged in Fingall's skull." 
 
 Pierre paused now, and waved with his hand 
 towards the mist which hung high up like a canopy 
 between the hills. 
 
 " But," said Lawless, not heeding the scene, "what 
 about that sixth bullet ? " 
 
 " Holy, it is plain ! Fingall did not fire the shot
 
 200 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 His revolver was full, every chamber, when Cynthie 
 first took it." 
 
 "Who killed the lad?" 
 
 "Can you not guess? There had been words 
 between the father and the boy: both had fierce 
 blood. The father, in a mad minute, fired ; the boy 
 wanted revenge on Fingall, and, to save his father, 
 laid it on the other. The old man ? Well, I do not 
 know whether he was a coward, or stupid, or 
 ashamed he let Fingall take it." 
 
 " Fingall took it to spare the girl, eh ? " 
 
 " For the girl. It wasn't good for her to know 
 her father killed his own son." 
 
 "What came after?" 
 
 " The worst. That night the girl's father killed 
 himself, and the two were buried in the same grave. 
 Cynthie" 
 
 " Fingall ! Fingall !Ok, Fingall ! " 
 
 " You hear ? Yes, like that all the time as she 
 sat on the floor, her hair about her like a cloud, and 
 the dead bodies in the next room. She thought she 
 had killed Fingall, and she knew now that he was 
 innocent. The two were buried. Then we told her 
 that Fingall was not dead. She used to come and 
 sit outside the door, and listen to his breathing, and 
 ask if he ever spoke of her. What was the good of 
 lying? If we said he did, she'd have come in to 
 him, and that would do no good, for he wasn't right 
 in his mind. By and by we told her he was getting
 
 THE FINDING OF FINGALL 201 
 
 well, and then she didn't come, but stayed at home, 
 just saying his name over to herself. Alors, things 
 take hold of a woman it is strange I When Fingall 
 was strong enough to go out, I went with him the 
 first time. He was all thin and handsome as you 
 can think, but he had no memory, and his eyes 
 were like a child's. She saw him, and came out to 
 meet him. What does a woman care for the world 
 when she loves a man ? Well, he just looked at her 
 as if he'd never seen her before, and passed by 
 without a sign, though afterwards a trouble came 
 in his face. Three days later he was gone, no one 
 knew where. That is two years ago. Ever since 
 she has been looking for him." 
 
 " Is she mad ? " 
 
 " Mad ? Holy Mother ! it is not good to have 
 one thing in the head all the time ! What do you 
 think ? So much all at once ! And then " 
 
 " Hush, Pierre ! There she is ! " said Lawless, 
 pointing to a ledge of rock not far away. 
 
 The girl stood looking out across the valley, a 
 weird, rapt look in her face, her hair falling loose, 
 a staff like a shepherd's crook in one hand, the 
 other hand over her eyes as she slowly looked from 
 point to point of the horizon. 
 
 The two watched her without speaking. Pre- 
 sently she saw them. She gazed at them for a 
 minute, then descended to them. Lawless and Pierre 
 rose, doffing their hats. She looked at both a
 
 202 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 moment, and her eyes settled on Pierre. Presently 
 she held out her hand to him. " I knew you 
 yesterday," she said. 
 
 Pierre returned the intensity of her gaze with one 
 kind and strong. 
 
 ".So-so, Cynthie," he said; "sit down and eat." 
 
 He dropped on a knee and drew a scone and 
 some fish from the ashes. She sat facing them, and, 
 taking from a bag at her side some wild fruits, ate 
 slowly, saying nothing. Lawless noticed that her 
 hair had become grey at her temples, though she was 
 but one-and-twenty years old. Her face, brown as 
 it was, shone with a white kind of light, which may, 
 or may not, have come from the crucible of her 
 eyes, where the tragedy of her life was fusing. 
 Lawless could not bear to look long, for the fire 
 that consumes a body and sets free a soul is not for 
 the sight of the quick. At last she rose, her body 
 steady, but her hands having that tremulous 
 activity of her eyes. 
 
 "Will you not stay, Cynthie?" asked Lawless 
 very kindly. 
 
 She came close to him, and ; after searching his 
 eyes, said with a smile that almost hurt him, 
 " When I have found him, I will bring him to your 
 camp-fire. Last night the Voice said that he waits 
 for me where the mist rises from the river at 
 daybreak, close to the home of the White Swan. 
 Do you know where is the home of the White
 
 .THE FINDING OF FINGALL 203 
 
 Swan ? Before the frost comes and the red wolf 
 cries, I must find him. Winter is the time of sleep. 
 I will give him honey and dried meat. I know 
 where we shall live together. You never saw such 
 roses ! Hush ! I have a place where we can hide." 
 
 Suddenly her gaze became fixed and dream-like, 
 and she said slowly : " In all time of our tribulation, 
 in all time of our wealth, in the hour of death, and 
 in the Day of Judgment; Good Lord, deliver us !" 
 
 " Good Lord, deliver us ! " repeated Lawless in 
 a low voice. Without looking at them, she slowly 
 turned away and passed up the hill-side, her eyes 
 scanning the valley as before. 
 
 "Good Lord, deliver us!" again said Lawless. 
 "Where did she get it?" 
 
 " From a book which Fingall left behind." 
 
 They watched her till she rounded a cliff, and 
 was gone ; then they shouldered their kits and 
 passed up the river on the trail of the wapiti. 
 
 One month later, when a fine white surf of frost 
 lay on the ground, and the sky was darkened often 
 by the flight of the wild geese southward, they came 
 upon a hut perched on a bluff, at the edge of a 
 clump of pines. It was morning, and White-faced 
 Mountain shone clear and high, without a touch 
 of cloud or mist from its haunches to its crown. 
 
 They knocked at the hut door, and, in answer to 
 a voice, entered. The sunlight streamed in over a 
 woman, lying upon a heap of dried flowers in a
 
 204 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 corner. A man was kneeling beside her. They 
 came near, and saw that the woman was Cynthie. 
 
 " Fingall ! " broke out Pierre, and caught the 
 kneeling man by the shoulder. At the sound of his 
 voice the woman's eyes opened. 
 
 " Fingall ! Oh, Fingall ! " she said, and reached 
 up a hand. 
 
 Fingall stooped and caught her to his breast : 
 
 " Cynthie ! poor girl ! Oh, my poor Cynthie ! " 
 he said. 
 
 In his eyes, as in hers, was a sane light, and his 
 voice, as hers, said indescribable things. 
 
 Her head sank upon his shoulder, her eyes closed; 
 she slept. Fingall laid her down with a sob in his 
 throat ; then he sat up and clutched Pierre's hand. 
 
 " In the East, where the doctors cured me, I 
 heard all," he said, pointing to her, " and I came 
 to find her. I was just in time ; I found her 
 yesterday." 
 
 " She knew you ? " whispered Pierre. 
 
 " Yes, but this fever came on." He turned and 
 looked at her, and, kneeling, smoothed away the 
 hair from the quiet face. " Poor girl ! " he said ; 
 " poor girl ! " 
 
 " She will get well ? " asked Pierre. 
 
 " God grant it ! " Fingall replied. " She is better 
 better!" 
 
 Lawless and Pierre softly turned and stole away, 
 leaving the man alone with the woman he loved.
 
 THE FINDING OF FINGALL 205 
 
 The two stood in silence, looking upon the river 
 beneath. Presently a voice crept through the 
 stillness. 
 
 " Fingall ! Oh, Fingall ! Fingall ! " 
 It was the voice of a woman returning from the 
 dead.
 
 Three Commandments in the 
 Vulgar Tongue 
 
 I 
 
 " T~) EAD on, Pierre," the sick man said, 
 
 JL V doubling the corner of the wolf-skin 
 pillow so that it shaded his face from the candle. 
 
 Pierre smiled to himself, thinking of the unusual 
 nature of his occupation, raised an eyebrow as if 
 to someone sitting at the other side of the fire, 
 though the room was empty save for the two, and 
 went on reading : 
 
 " Woe to the multitude of many people, which 
 make a noise like the noise of the seas ; and to tfte 
 rushing of nations, that make a rushing like the 
 rushing of mighty waters I 
 
 " The nations shall rush like the rushing of many 
 waters : but God shall rebuke them, and they shall 
 flee far off, and shall be chased as the chaff of the 
 mountains before the wind, and like a rolling thing 
 before the whirlwind. 
 
 " And behold at evening-tide trouble ; and before 
 the morning he is not. This is the portion of them 
 that spoil us, and the lot of them that rob us" 
 
 206
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 207 
 
 The sick man put up his hand, motioning for 
 silence, and Pierre, leaving the Bible open, laid it 
 at his side. Then he fell to studying the figure on 
 the couch. The body, though reduced by a sudden 
 illness, had an appearance of late youth, a firmness 
 of mature manhood ; but the hair was grey, the 
 beard was grizzled, and the face was furrowed and 
 seamed as though the man had lived a long, hard 
 life. The body seemed thirty years old, the head 
 sixty; the man's exact age was forty-five. His 
 most singular characteristic was a fine, almost 
 spiritual intelligence, which showed in the dewy 
 brightness of the eye, in the lighted face, in the 
 cadenced definiteness of his speech. One would 
 have said, knowing nothing of him, that he was a 
 hermit ; but again, noting the firm, graceful out- 
 lines of his body, that he was a soldier. Within 
 the past twenty-four hours he had had a fight for 
 life with one of the terrible " colds " which, like an 
 unstayed plague, close up the courses of the body, 
 and carry a man out of the hurly-burly, without 
 pause to say how much or how little he cares to go. 
 
 Pierre, whose rude skill in medicine was got of 
 hard experiences here and there, had helped him 
 back into the world again, and was himself now a 
 little astonished at acting as Scripture reader to a 
 Protestant invalid. Still, the Bible was like his 
 childhood itself, always with him in memory, and 
 Old Testament history was as wine to his blood.
 
 2o8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 The lofty tales sang in his veins : of primitive man, 
 adventure, mysterious and exalted romance. For 
 nearly an hour, with absorbing interest, he had 
 read aloud from these ancient chronicles to 
 Fawdor, who held this Post of the Hudson's Bay 
 Company in the outer wilderness. 
 
 Pierre had arrived at the Post three days before, 
 to find a half-breed trapper and an Indian helpless 
 before the sickness which was hurrying to close on 
 John Fawdor's heart and clamp it in the vice of 
 death. He had come just in time. He was now 
 ready to learn, by what ways the future should 
 show, why this man, of such unusual force and 
 power, should have lived at a desolate post in 
 Labrador for twenty-five years. 
 
 " This is the portion of them that spoil us, and 
 the lot of them that rob us " Fawdor repeated the 
 words slowly, and then said : " It is good to be out 
 of the restless world. Do you know the secret of 
 life, Pierre?" 
 
 Pierre's fingers unconsciously dropped on the 
 Bible at his side, drumming the leaves. His eyes 
 wandered over Fawdor's face, and presently he 
 answered, " To keep your own commandments." 
 
 " The ten ? " asked the sick man, pointing to the 
 Bibla 
 
 Pierre's fingers closed the book. " Not the ten, 
 for .they do not fit all; but one by one to make 
 your own, and never to break comme fa/"
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 209 
 
 " The answer is well," returned Fawdor ; " but 
 what is the greatest commandment that a man 
 can make for himself?" 
 
 " Who can tell ? What is the good of saying, 
 ' Thou shalt keep holy the Sabbath day,' when a 
 man lives where he does not know the days? 
 What is the good of saying, ' Thou shalt not steal,' 
 when a man has no heart to rob, and there is 
 nothing to steal ? But a man should have a heart, 
 an eye for justice. It is good for him to make his 
 commandments against that wherein he is a fool or 
 has a devil. Justice, that is the thing." 
 
 " ' Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy 
 neighbour ' ? " asked Fawdor softly. 
 
 " Yes, like that. But a man must put it in his 
 own words, and keep the law which he makes. 
 Then life does not give a bad taste in the mouth." 
 
 "What commandments have you made for your- 
 self, Pierre?" 
 
 The slumbering fire in Pierre's face leaped up. 
 He felt for an instant as his father, a chevalier of 
 France, might have felt if a peasant had presumed 
 to finger the orders upon his breast. It touched 
 his native pride, so little shown in anything else. 
 But he knew the spirit behind the question, and 
 the meaning justified the man. 
 
 " Thou shalt think with the minds of twelve 
 men, and the heart of one woman," he said, and 
 paused. 
 14
 
 210 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " Justice and mercy," murmured the voice from 
 the bed. 
 
 " Thou shalt keep the faith of food and blanket." 
 Again Pierre paused. 
 
 " And a man shall have no cause to fear his 
 friend," said the voice again. 
 
 The pause was longer this time, and Pierre's 
 cold, handsome face took on a kind of softness 
 before he said, " Remember the sorrow of thine 
 own wife." 
 
 " It is a good commandment," said the sick man, 
 " to make all women safe whether they be true or 
 foolish." 
 
 "The strong should be ashamed to prey upon 
 the weak. Pshaw ! such a sport ends in nothing. 
 Man only is man's game." 
 
 Suddenly Pierre added : " When you thought you 
 were going to die, you gave me some papers and 
 letters to take to Quebec. You will get well. Shall 
 I give them back ? Will you take them yourself? " 
 
 Fawdor understood : Pierre wished to know his 
 story. He reached out a hand, saying, " I will 
 take them myself. You have not read them ? " 
 
 " No. I was not to read them till you died 
 bien ? " He handed the packet over. 
 
 " I will tell you the story," Fawdor said, turning 
 over on his side, so that his eyes rested full on 
 Pierre. 
 
 He did not begin at once. An Esquimaux dog,
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 211 
 
 of the finest and yet wildest breed, which had been 
 lying before the fire, stretched itself, opened its red 
 eyes at the two men, and, slowly rising, went 
 to the door and sniffed at the cracks. Then it 
 turned, and began pacing restlessly around the 
 room. Every little while it would stop, sniff the 
 air, and go on again. Once or twice, also, as it 
 passed the couch of the sick man, it paused, and at 
 last it suddenly rose, rested two feet on the rude 
 headboard of the couch, and pushed its nose 
 against the invalid's head. There was something 
 rarely savage and yet beautifully soft in the dog's 
 face, scarred as it was by the whips of earlier 
 owners. The sick man's hand went up and 
 caressed the wolfish head. "Good dog, good 
 Akim ! " he said softly in French. " Thou dost 
 know when a storm is on the way ; thou dost know, 
 too, when there is a storm in my heart." 
 
 Even as he spoke a wind came crying round the 
 house, and the parchment windows gave forth a soft 
 booming sound. Outside, Nature was trembling 
 lightly in all her nerves ; belated herons, disturbed 
 from the freshly frozen pool, swept away on tardy 
 wings into the night and to the south ; a herd 
 of wolves, trooping by the hut, passed from a short, 
 easy trot to a low, long gallop, devouring, yet fear- 
 ful. It appeared as though the dumb earth were 
 trying to speak, and the mighty effort gave it pain, 
 from which came awe and terror to living things.
 
 212 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 So, inside the house, also, Pierre almost shrank 
 from the unknown sorrow of this man beside him, 
 who was about to disclose the story of his life. 
 The solitary places do not make men glib of 
 tongue ; rather, spare of words. They whose 
 tragedy lies in the capacity to suffer greatly, being 
 given the woe of imagination, bring forth inner 
 history as a mother gasps life into the world. 
 
 " I was only a boy of twenty-one," Fawdor said 
 from the pillow, as he watched the dog noiselessly 
 travelling from corner to corner, " and I had been 
 with the Company three years. They had said 
 that I could rise fast; I had done so. I was 
 ambitious ; yet I find solace in thinking that I saw 
 only one way to it, by patience, industry, and 
 much thinking. I read a great deal, and cared for 
 what I read ; but I observed also, that in dealing 
 with men I might serve myself and the Company 
 wisely. 
 
 " One day the governor of the Company came 
 from England, and with him a sweet lady, his 
 young niece, and her brother. They arranged for 
 a tour to the Great Lakes, and I was chosen to 
 go with them in command of the boatmen. It 
 appeared as if a great chance had come to me, and 
 so said the factor at Lachine on the morning we 
 set forth. The girl was as winsome as you can 
 think ; not of such wonderful beauty, but with a 
 face that would be finer old than young; and a
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 213 
 
 dainty trick of humour had she as well. The 
 governor was a testy man ; he could not bear to be 
 crossed in a matter ; yet, in spite of all, I did 
 not think he had a wilful hardness. It was a long 
 journey, and we were set to our wits to make it 
 always interesting ; but we did it somehow, for 
 there were fishing and shooting, and adventure of 
 one sort and another, and the lighter things, such as 
 singing and the telling of tales, as the boatmen 
 rowed the long river. 
 
 " We talked of many things as we travelled, and 
 I was glad to listen to the governor, for he had 
 seen and read much. It was clear he liked to have 
 us hang upon his tales and his grand speeches, 
 which seemed a little large in the mouth ; and his 
 nephew, who had a mind for raillery, was now and 
 again guilty of some witty impertinence ; but this 
 was hard to bring home to him, for he could 
 assume a fine childlike look when he pleased, con- 
 fusing to his accusers. Towards the last he grew 
 bolder, and said many a biting thing to both the 
 governor and myself, which more than once turned 
 his sister's face pale with apprehension, for she had 
 a nice sense of kindness. Whenever the talk was 
 at all general, it was his delight to turn one against 
 the other. Though I was wary, and the girl 
 understood his game, at last he had his way. 
 
 I knew Shakespeare and the Bible very well, 
 and, like most bookish young men, phrase and
 
 214 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 motto were much on my tongue, though not 
 always given forth. One evening, as we drew to 
 the camp-fire, a deer broke from the woods and 
 ran straight through the little circle we were 
 making, and disappeared in the bushes by the 
 riverside. Someone ran for a rifle; but the 
 governor forbade, adding, with an air, a phrase 
 with philosophical point. I, proud of the chance 
 to show I was not a mere backwoodsman at such 
 a sport, capped his aphorism with a line from 
 Shakespeare's Cymbeline. 
 
 " ' Tut, tut ! ' said the governor smartly ; ' you 
 haven't it well, Mr. Fawdor ; it goes this way,' 
 and he went on to set me right His nephew 
 at that stepped in, and, with a little disdainful 
 laugh at me, made some galling gibe at my 
 'distinguished learning.' I might have known 
 better than to let it pique me, but I spoke up 
 again, though respectfully enough, that I was not 
 wrong. It appeared to me all at once as if some 
 principle were at stake, as if I were the champion 
 of our Shakespeare ; so will vanity delude us. 
 
 " The governor I can see it as if it were 
 yesterday seemed to go like ice, for he loved 
 to be thought infallible in all such things as well 
 as in great business affairs, and his nephew was 
 there to give an edge to the matter. He said, 
 curtly, that I would probably come on better in 
 the world if I were more exact and less cock-a-
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 215 
 
 hoop with myself. That stung me, for not only 
 was the young lady looking on with a sort of 
 superior pity, as I thought, but her brother was 
 murmuring to her under his breath with a pro- 
 voking smile. I saw no reason why I should be 
 treated like a schoolboy. As far as my knowledge 
 went it was as good as another man's, were he 
 young or old, so I came in quickly with my reply. 
 I said that his excellency should find me more 
 cock-a-hoop with Shakespeare than with myself. 
 ' Well, well,' he answered, with a severe look, ' our 
 Company has need of great men for hard tasks.' 
 To this I made no answer, for I got a warning look 
 from the young lady, a look which had a sort 
 of reproach and command too. She knew the 
 twists and turns of her uncle's temper, and how he 
 was imperious and jealous in little things. The 
 matter dropped for the time ; but as the governor 
 was going to his tent for the night, the young lady 
 said to me hurriedly, ' My uncle is a man of great 
 reading and power, Mr. Fawdor. I would set it 
 right with him, if I were you.' For the moment I 
 was ashamed. You cannot guess how fine an 
 eye she had, and how her voice stirred one ! She 
 said no more, but stepped inside her tent; and 
 then I heard the brother say over my shoulder, 
 ' Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud ! ' 
 Afterwards, with a little laugh and a backward 
 wave of the hand, as one might toss a greeting to
 
 2i6 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 a beggar, he was gone also, and I was left 
 alone." 
 
 Fawdor paused in his narrative. The dog had 
 lain down by the fire again, but its red eyes were 
 blinking at the door, and now and again it growled 
 softly, and the long hair at its mouth seemed to 
 shiver with feeling. Suddenly through the night 
 there rang a loud, barking cry. The dog's mouth 
 opened and closed in a noiseless snarl, showing its 
 keen, long teeth, and a ridge of hair bristled on its 
 back. But the two men made no sign or motion. 
 The cry of wild cats was no new thing to them. 
 
 Presently the other continued : " I sat by the 
 fire and heard beasts howl like that, I listened to 
 the river churning over the rapids below, and I felt 
 all at once a loneliness that turned me sick. There 
 were three people in a tent near me ; I could even 
 hear the governor's breathing ; but I appeared to 
 have no part in the life of any human being, as 
 if I were a kind of outlaw of God and man. 
 I was poor ; I had no friends ; I was at the 
 mercy of this great Company ; if I died, there 
 was not a human being who, so far as I knew, 
 would shed a tear. Well, you see I was only a 
 boy, and I suppose it was the spirit of youth 
 hungering for the huge, active world and the 
 companionship of ambitious men. There is no 
 one so lonely as the young dreamer on the brink 
 of life.
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS aiy 
 
 "I was lying by the fire. It was not a cold 
 night, and I fell asleep at last without covering. 
 I did not wake till morning, and then it was to find 
 the governor's nephew building up the fire again. 
 1 Those who are born great,' said he, ' are bound to 
 rise.' But perhaps he saw that I had had a bad 
 night, and felt that he had gone far enough, for he 
 presently said, in a tone more to my liking, 'Take 
 my advice, Mr. Fawdor; make it right with my 
 uncle. It isn't such fast rising in the Company 
 that you can afford to quarrel with its governor. 
 I'd go on the other tack : don't be too honest.' I 
 thanked him, and no more was said ; but I liked 
 him better, for I saw that he was one of those who 
 take pleasure in dropping nettles more to see the 
 weakness of human nature than from malice. 
 
 " But my good fortune had got a twist, and it 
 was not to be straightened that day ; and because 
 it was not straightened then it was not to be at all; 
 for at five o'clock we came to the Post at Lachine, 
 and here the governor and the others were to stop. 
 During all the day I had waited for my chance to 
 say a word of apology to his excellency, but it was 
 no use; nothing seemed to help me, for he was 
 busy with his papers and notes, and I also had to 
 finish up my reports. The hours went by, and I 
 saw my chances drift past. I knew that the 
 governor held the thing against me, and not the 
 less because he saw me more than once that day in
 
 2i8 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 speech with his niece. For she appeared anxious 
 to cheer me, and indeed I think we might have be- 
 come excellent friends had our ways run together. 
 She could have bestowed her friendship on me 
 without shame to herself, for I had come of an old 
 family in Scotland, the Sheplaws of Canfire, which 
 she knew, as did the governor also, was a more 
 ancient family than their own. Yet her kindness 
 that day worked me no good, and I went far to 
 make it worse, since, under the spell of her gentle- 
 ness, I looked at her far from distantly, and at the 
 last, as she was getting from the boat, returned the 
 pressure of her hand with much interest. I suppose 
 something of the pride of that moment leaped up 
 in my eye, for I saw the governor's face harden 
 more and more, and the brother shrugged an 
 ironical shoulder. I was too young to see or know 
 that the chief thing in the girl's mind was regret 
 that I had so hurt my chances ; for she knew, as I 
 saw only too well afterwards, that I might have 
 been rewarded with a leaping promotion in honour 
 of the success of the journey. But though the 
 boatmen got a gift of money and tobacco and 
 spirits, nothing came to me save the formal 
 thanks of the governor, as he bowed me from his 
 presence. 
 
 "The nephew came with his sister to bid me 
 farewell. There was little said between her and 
 me, and it was a long, long time before she knew
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 219 
 
 the end of that day's business. But the brother 
 said, 'You've let the chance go by, Mr. Fawdor. 
 Better luck next time, eh ? And,' he went on, I'd 
 give a hundred editions the lie, but I'd read the 
 text according to my chief officer. The words of 
 a king are always wise while his head is on/ 
 he declared further, and he drew from his scarf a 
 pin of pearls and handed it to me. ' Will you wear 
 that for me, Mr. Fawdor?' he asked ; and I, who 
 had thought him but a stripling with a saucy pride, 
 grasped his hand and said a God-keep-you. It 
 does me good now to think I said it. I did not 
 see him or his sister again. 
 
 " The next day was Sunday. About two o'clock 
 I was sent for by the governor. When I got to 
 the Post and was admitted to him, I saw that my 
 misadventure was not over. ' Mr. Fawdor,' said he 
 coldly, spreading out a map on the table before 
 him, ' you will start at once for Fort Ungava, at 
 Ungava Bay, in Labrador.' I felt my heart stand 
 still for a moment, and then surge up and down, 
 like a piston-rod under a sudden rush of steam. 
 ' You will proceed now/ he went on, in his hard 
 voice, ' as far as the village of Pont Croix. There 
 you will find three Indians awaiting you. You 
 will go on with them as far as Point St. Saviour 
 and camp for the night, for if the Indians remain 
 in the village they may get drunk. The next 
 morning, at sunrise, you will move on. The
 
 220 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Indians know the trail across Labrador to Fort 
 Ungava. When you reach there, you will take 
 command of the Post and remain till further orders. 
 Your clothes are already at the village. I have 
 had them packed, and you will find there also 
 what is necessary for the journey. The factor at 
 Ungava was there ten years; he has gone to 
 heaven.' 
 
 " I cannot tell what it was held my tongue 
 silent, that made me only bow my head in assent, 
 and press my lips together. I knew I was pale as 
 death, for as I turned to leave the room I caught 
 sight of my face in a little mirror tacked on the 
 door, and I hardly recognised myself. 
 
 " ' Good-day, Mr. Fawdor,' said the governor, 
 handing me the map. ' There is some brandy in 
 your stores; be careful that none of your Indians 
 get it. If they try to desert, you know what to 
 do.' With a gesture of dismissal he turned, and 
 began to speak with the chief trader. 
 
 " For me, I went from that room like a man 
 condemned to die. Fort Ungava in Labrador, 
 a thousand miles away, over a barren, savage 
 country, and in winter too ; for it would be winter 
 there immediately! It was an exile to Siberia, 
 and far worse than Siberia ; for there are many 
 there to share the fellowship of misery, and I was 
 likely to be the only white man at Fort Ungava. 
 As I passed from the door of the Post, the words
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 221 
 
 of Shakespeare which had brought all this about 
 sang in my ears." He ceased speaking, and sank 
 back wearily among the skins of his couch. Out 
 of the enveloping silence Pierre's voice came softly : 
 " Thou shalt judge with the minds of twelve 
 men, and the heart of one woman." 
 
 II 
 
 " The journey to the village of Pont Croix was 
 that of a man walking over graves. Every step 
 sent a pang to my heart, a boy of twenty-one, 
 grown old in a moment. It was not that I had 
 gone a little lame from a hurt got on the expedi- 
 tion with the governor, but my whole life seemed 
 suddenly lamed. Why did I go ? Ah, you do not 
 know how discipline gets into a man's bones, the 
 pride, the indignant pride of obedience. At that 
 hour I swore that I should myself be the governor 
 of that Company one day, the boast of loud- 
 hearted youth. I had angry visions, I dreamed 
 absurd dreams, but I did not think of disobeying. 
 It was an unheard-of journey at such a time, but I 
 swore that I would do it, that it should go into 
 the records of the Company. 
 
 " I reached the village, found the Indians, and 
 at once moved on to the settlement where we were 
 to stay that night Then my knee began to pain 
 me. I feared inflammation; so in the dead of
 
 222 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 night I walked back to the village, roused a trader 
 of the Company, got some liniment and other 
 trifles, and arrived again at St. Saviour before 
 dawn. My few clothes and necessaries came in 
 the course of the morning, and by noon we were 
 fairly started on the path to exile. 
 
 " I remember that we came to a lofty point on 
 the St. Lawrence just before we plunged into the 
 woods, to see the great stream no more. I stood 
 and looked back up the river towards the point 
 where Lachine lay. All that went to make the 
 life of a Company's man possible was there ; and 
 there, too, were those with whom I had tented and 
 travelled for three long months, eaten with them, 
 cared for them, used for them all the woodcraft 
 that I knew. I could not think that it would be 
 a young man's lifetime before I set eyes on that 
 scene again. Never from that day to this have I 
 seen the broad, sweet river where I spent the three 
 happiest years of my life. I can see now the tall 
 shining heights of Quebec, the pretty wooded 
 Island of Orleans, the winding channel, so deep so 
 strong. The sun was three-fourths of its way 
 down in the west, and already the sky was taking 
 on the deep red and purple of autumn. Somehow, 
 the thing that struck me most in the scene was a 
 bunch of pines, solemn and quiet, their tops bur- 
 nished by the afternoon light. Tears would have 
 been easy then. But my pride drove them back
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 
 
 221 
 
 from my eyes to my angry heart. Besides, there 
 were my Indians waiting, and the long journey 
 lay before us. Then, perhaps because there was 
 none nearer to make farewell to, or I know not 
 why, I waved my hand towards the distant village 
 of Lachine, and, with the sweet maid in my mind 
 who had so gently parted from me yesterday, I 
 cried, ' Good-bye, and God bless you.' " 
 
 He paused. Pierre handed him a wooden cup, 
 from which he drank, and then continued : 
 
 " The journey went forward. You have seen 
 the country. You know what it is : those bare 
 ice-plains and rocky unfenced fields stretching to 
 all points, the heaving wastes of treeless country, 
 the harsh frozen lakes. God knows what insup- 
 portable horror would have settled on me in that 
 pilgrimage had it not been for occasional glimpses 
 of a gentler life for the deer and caribou which 
 crossed our path. Upon my soul, I was so full of 
 gratitude and love at the sight that I could have 
 thrown my arms round their necks and kissed 
 them. I could not raise a gun at them. My 
 Indians did that, and so inconstant is the human 
 heart that I ate heartily of the meat My Indians 
 were almost less companionable to me than any 
 animal would have been. Try as I would, I could 
 not bring myself to like them, and I feared only 
 too truly that they did not like me. Indeed, I 
 soon saw that they meant to desert me, kill me,
 
 224 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 perhaps, if they could, although I trusted in the 
 wholesome and restraining fear which the Indian 
 has of the great Company. I was not sure that 
 they were guiding me aright, and I had to threaten 
 death in case they tried to mislead me or desert 
 me. My knee at times was painful, and cold, 
 hunger, and incessant watchfulness wore on me 
 vastly. Yet I did not yield to my miseries, for 
 there entered into me then not only the spirit of 
 endurance, but something of that sacred pride in 
 suffering which was the merit of my Covenanting 
 forefathers. 
 
 " We were four months on that bitter travel, and 
 I do not know how it could have been made at all, 
 had it not been for the deer that I had heart to eat 
 and none to kill. The days got shorter and 
 shorter, and we were sometimes eighteen hours in 
 absolute darkness. Thus you can imagine how 
 slowly we went Thank God, we could sleep, hid 
 away in our fur bags, more often without a fire 
 than with one, mere mummies stretched out on 
 a vast coverlit of white, with the peering, unfriendly 
 sky above us ; though it must be said that through 
 all those many, many weeks no cloud perched in 
 the zenith. When there was light there was sun, 
 and the courage of it entered into our bones, 
 helping to save us. You may think I have been 
 made feeble-minded by my sufferings, but I tell 
 you plainly that, in the closing days of our journey,
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 225 
 
 I used to see a tall figure walking beside me, who, 
 whenever I would have spoken to him, laid a 
 warning finger on his lips ; but when I would have 
 fallen, he spoke to me, always in the same words. 
 You have heard of him, the Scarlet Hunter of the 
 Kimash Hills. It was he, the Sentinel of the 
 North, the Lover of the Lost. So deep did his 
 words go into my heart that they have remained 
 with me to this hour." 
 
 " I saw him once in the White Valley," Pierre 
 said in a low voice. "What was it he said to 
 you ? " 
 
 The other drew a long breath, and a smile rested 
 on his lips. Then, slowly, as though liking to 
 linger over them, he repeated the words of the 
 Scarlet Hunter: 
 
 *' ' O son of man, behold I 
 
 If thou shouldst stumble on the nameless trail, 
 
 The trail that no man rides, 
 
 Lift up thy heart, 
 
 Behold, O son 01 man, thou hast a helper near I 
 
 " ' O son of man, take heed ! 
 
 If thou shouldst fall upon the vacant plain, 
 
 The plain that no man loves, 
 
 Reach out thy hand, 
 
 Take heed, O son of man, strength shall be given thee 1 
 
 "'O son 01 man, rejoice! 
 
 If thou art blinded even at the door, 
 
 The door of the Safe Tent, 
 
 Sing in thy heart, 
 
 Rejoice, O son of man, thy pilot leads thee home!'
 
 226 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " I never seemed to be alone after that call it 
 what you will, fancy or delirium. My head was 
 so light that it appeared to spin like a star, and 
 my feet were so heavy that I dragged the whole 
 earth after me. My Indians seldom spoke. I 
 never let them drop behind me, for I did not trust 
 their treacherous natures. But in the end, as it 
 would seem, they also had but one thought, and 
 that to reach Fort Ungava ; for there was no food 
 left, none at all. We saw no tribes of Indians 
 and no Esquimaux, for we had not passed in their 
 line of travel or settlement. 
 
 " At last I used to dream that birds were singing 
 near me, a soft, delicate whirlwind of sound ; and 
 then bells all like muffled silver rang through the 
 aching, sweet air. Bits of prayer and poetry I 
 learned when a boy flashed through my mind ; 
 equations in algebra ; the tingling scream of a 
 great buzz-saw ; the breath of a racer as he nears 
 the post under the crying whip ; my own voice 
 dropping loud profanity, heard as a lad from a 
 blind ferryman ; the boom ! boom ! of a mass of 
 logs as they struck a house on a flooding river and 
 carried it away. . . . 
 
 " One day we reached the end. It was near 
 evening, and we came to the top of a wooded 
 knoll. My eyes were dancing in my head with 
 fatigue and weakness, but I could see below us, 
 on the edge of the great bay, a large hut, Esqui-
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 227 
 
 maux lodges and Indian tepees near it It was 
 the Fort, my cheerless prison-house." 
 
 He paused. The dog had been watching him 
 with its flaming eyes ; now it gave a low growl, 
 as though it understood, and pitied. In the 
 interval of silence the storm without broke. The 
 trees began to quake and cry, the light snow 
 to beat upon the parchment windows, and the 
 chimney to splutter and moan. Presently, out 
 on the bay they could hear the young ice break 
 and come scraping up the shore. Fawdor listened 
 a while, and then went on, waving his hand to 
 the door as he began : " Think ! this, and like 
 that always : the ungodly strife of nature, and my 
 sick disconsolate life." 
 
 " Ever since ? " asked Pierre, 
 
 " All the time." 
 
 "Why did you not go back?" 
 
 " I was to wait for orders, and they never came." 
 
 " You were a free man, not a slave." 
 
 " The human heart has pride. At first, as when 
 I left the governor at Lachine, I said, *I will 
 never speak, I will never ask nor bend the knee. 
 He has the power to oppress ; I can obey without 
 whining, as fine a man as he/'' 
 
 " Did you not hate ? " 
 
 "At first, as only a banished man can hate. 
 I knew that if all had gone well I should be a 
 man high up in the Company, and here I was,
 
 228 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 living like a dog in the porch of the world, some- 
 times without other food for months than frozen 
 fish ; and for two years I was in a place where 
 we had no fire, lived in a snow-house, with only 
 blubber to eat. And so year after year, no 
 word I" 
 
 "The mail came once every year from the 
 world?" 
 
 " Yes, once a year the door of the outer life was 
 opened. A ship came into the bay, and by that 
 ship I sent out my reports. But no word came from 
 the governor, and no request went from me. Once 
 the captain of that ship took me by the shoulders, 
 and said, ' Fawdor, man, this will drive you mad. 
 Come away to England, leave your half-breed 
 in charge, and ask the governor for a big pro- 
 motion.' He did not understand. Of course I 
 said I could not go. Then he turned on me, 
 he was a good man, and said, 'This will either 
 make you madman or saint, Fawdor.' He drew 
 a Bible from his pocket and handed it to me. 
 'I've used it twenty years,' he said, 'in evil and 
 out of evil, and I've spiked it here and there; 
 it's a chart for heavy seas, and may you find it 
 so, my lad.' 
 
 " I said little then ; but when I saw the sails 
 of his ship round a cape and vanish, all my pride 
 and strength were broken up, and I came in a 
 heap to the ground, weeping like a child. But
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 229 
 
 the change did not come all at once. There were 
 two things that kept me hard." 
 
 "The girl?" 
 
 u The girl, and another. But of the young lady 
 after. I had a half-breed whose life I had saved. 
 I was kind to him always ; gave him as good to 
 eat and drink as I had myself; divided my 
 tobacco with him ; loved him as only an exile can 
 love a comrade. He conspired with the Indians 
 to seize the Fort and stores, and kill me if I 
 resisted. I found it out." 
 
 " Thou shalt keep the faith of food and blanket," 
 said Pierre. "What did you do with him?" 
 
 " The fault was not his so much as of his race 
 and his miserable past. I had loved him. I sent 
 him away ; and he never came back." 
 
 "Thou shalt judge with the minds of twelve 
 men, and the heart of one woman." 
 
 "For the girl. There was the thing that 
 clamped my heart. Never a message from her 
 or her brother. Surely they knew, and yet never, 
 thought I, a good word for me to the governor. 
 They had forgotten the faith of food and blanket. 
 And she she must have seen that I could have 
 worshipped her, had we been in the same way 
 of life. Before the better days came to me I was 
 hard against her, hard and rough at heart." 
 
 "Remember the sorrow of thine own wife' 
 Pierre's voice was gentle.
 
 2 3 o AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 "Truly, to think hardly of no woman should 
 be always in a man's heart. But I have known 
 only one woman of my race in twenty-five years ! " 
 
 " And as time went on ? " 
 
 " As time went on, and no word came, I ceased 
 to look for it But I followed that chart spiked 
 with the captain's pencil, as he had done it in 
 season and out of season, and by and by I ceased 
 to look for any word. I even became reconciled 
 to my life. The ambitious and aching cares of 
 the world dropped from me, and I stood above 
 all, alone in my suffering, yet not yielding. 
 Loneliness is a terrible thing. Under it a man " 
 
 "Goes mad or becomes a saint, a saint !' J 
 Pierre's voice became reverent. 
 
 Fawdor shook his head, smiling gently. "Ah 
 no, no. But I began to understand the world, and 
 I loved the north, the beautiful hard north ! " 
 
 " But there is more ? " 
 
 " Yes, the end of it all. Three days before you 
 came I got a packet of letters, not by the usual 
 yearly mail. One announced that the governor 
 was dead. Another " 
 
 " Another ? " urged Pierre. 
 
 " was from Her. She said that her brother, 
 on the day she wrote, had by chance come across 
 my name in the Company's records, and found 
 that I had been here a quarter of a century. It 
 was the letter of a good woman. She said she
 
 THREE COMMANDMENTS 231 
 
 thought the governor had forgotten that he had 
 sent me here, as now I hope he had, for that 
 would be one thing less for him to think of, when 
 he set out on the journey where the only weight 
 man carries is the packload of his sins. She also 
 said that she had written to me twice after we 
 parted at Lachine, but had never heard a word, 
 and three years afterwards she had gone to India. 
 The letters were lost, I suppose, on the way to me, 
 somehow, who can tell ? Then came another 
 thing, so strange, that it seemed like the laughter 
 of the angels at us. These were her words : ' And, 
 dear Mr. Fawdor, you were both wrong in that 
 quotation, as you no doubt discovered long ago.' 
 Then she gave me the sentence as it is in Cym- 
 beline. She was right, quite right. We were both 
 wrong. Never till her letter came had I looked to 
 see. How vain, how uncertain, and fallible, is 
 man!" 
 
 Pierre dropped his cigarette, and stared at 
 Fawdor. " The knowledge of books is foolery," 
 he said slowly. "Man is the only book of life. 
 Go on." 
 
 "There was another letter, trom the brother, 
 who was now high up in the Company, asking me 
 to come to England, and saying that they wished 
 to promote me far, and that he and his sister, with 
 their families, would be glad to see me." 
 
 M She was married, then ? "
 
 2 3 a AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 The rashness of the suggestion made Fawdor 
 wave his hand impatiently. He would not reply 
 to it " I was struck down with all the news," he 
 said. "I wandered like a child out into a mad 
 storm. Illness came ; then you, who have nursed 
 me back to life. . . . And now I have told all." 
 
 " Not all, bien stir. What will you do ? " 
 
 " I am out of the world ; why tempt it all again ? 
 See how those twenty-five years were twisted by a 
 boy's vanity and a man's tyranny ! " 
 
 " But what will you do ? " persisted Pierre. 
 " You should see the faces of women and children 
 again. No man can live without that sight, even 
 as a saint." 
 
 Suddenly Fawdor's face was shot over with a 
 storm of feeling. He lay very still, his thoughts 
 busy with a new world which had been disclosed 
 to him. " Youth hungers for the vanities," he said, 
 "and the middle-aged for home." He took Pierre's 
 hand. " I will go," he added. " A door will open 
 somewhere for me." 
 
 Then he turned his face to the wall. The storm 
 had ceased, the wild dog huddled quietly on the 
 hearth, and for hours the only sound was the 
 crackling of the logs as Pierre stirred the fire.
 
 Little Babiche 
 
 1 "\J O, no, m'sieu' the governor, they did not 
 1 M tell you right. I was with him, and I have 
 known Little Babiche fifteen years as long as 
 I've known you. ... It was against the time 
 when down in your world there they have feast- 
 ings, and in the churches the grand songs and 
 many candles on the altars. Yes, Noel, that is 
 the word the day of the Great Birth. You shall 
 hear how strange it all was the thing, the time, 
 the end of it." 
 
 The governor of the great Company settled 
 back in a chair, his powerful face seamed by years, 
 his hair grey and thick still, his keen, steady eyes 
 burning under shaggy brows. He had himself 
 spent long solitary years in the wild fastnesses of 
 the north. He fastened his dark eyes on Pierre, 
 and said : " Monsieur Pierre, I shall be glad to hear. 
 It was at the time of Noel yes ? " 
 
 Pierre began : " You have seen it beautiful and 
 cold in the north, but never so cold and beautiful 
 as it was last year. The world was white with sun 
 and ice, the frost never melting, the sun never 
 
 233
 
 234 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 warming just a glitter, so lovely, so deadly. If 
 only you could keep the heart warm, you were not 
 afraid. But if once just for a moment the 
 blood ran out from the heart and did not come in 
 again, the frost clamped the doors shut, and there 
 was an end of all. Ah, m'sieu', when the north 
 clinches a man's heart in anger there is no pain 
 like it for a moment." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; and Little Babiche ? " 
 
 " For ten years he carried the mails along the 
 route of Fort St. Mary, Fort O'Glory, Fort St. 
 Saviour, and Fort Perseverance within the circle 
 just one mail once a year, but that was enough. 
 There he was with his Esquimaux dogs on the trail, 
 going and coming, with a laugh and a word for any- 
 one that crossed his track. ' Good-day, Babiche.' 
 ' Good-day, m'sieu'.' ' How do you, Babiche ? ' 
 'Well, thank the Lord, m'sieu'.' 'Where to and 
 where from, Babiche?' 'To the Great Fort by 
 the old trail, from the Far - off River, m'sieu'.' 
 'Come safe along, Babiche?' ' Merci, m'sieu'; 
 the good God travels north, m'sieu'.' ' Adieu, 
 Babiche.' 'Adieu, m'sieu'.' That is about the 
 way of the thing, year after year. Sometimes a 
 night at a hut or a post, but mostly alone alone, 
 except for the dogs. He slept with them, and 
 they slept on the mails to guard : as though 
 there should be highwaymen on the Prairie of the 
 Ten Stars 1 But no, it was his way, m'sieu'
 
 LITTLE BABICHE 235 
 
 Now and again I crossed him on the trail, for have 
 I not travelled to every corner of the north ? 
 We were not so great friends, for well, Babiche is 
 a man who says his aves, and never was a loafer, 
 and there was no reason why he should have love 
 for me ; but we were good company when we met. 
 I knew him when he was a boy down on the 
 Chaudiere, and he always had a heart like a lion 
 and a woman. I had seen him fight, I had seen 
 him suffer cold, and I had heard him sing. 
 
 "Well, I was up last fall to Fort St. Saviour. 
 Ho, how dull was it ! Macgregor, the trader there, 
 has brains like rubber. So I said, I will go down 
 to Fort O'Glory. I knew someone would be there 
 it is nearer the world. So I started away with 
 four dogs and plenty of jerked buffalo, and so 
 much brown brandy as Macgregor could squeeze 
 out of his eye ! Never, never were there such days 
 the frost shaking like steel and silver as it 
 powdered the sunlight, the white level of snow 
 lifting and falling, and falling and lifting, the sky 
 so great a travel away, the air which made you cry 
 out with pain one minute and gave you joy the 
 next. And all so wild, so lonely! Yet I have 
 seen hanging in those plains cities all blue and red, 
 with millions of lights showing, and voices, voices 
 everywhere, like the singing of soft masses. After 
 a time in that cold up there you are no longer 
 yourself no. You move in a dream.
 
 236 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 "Eh bien, m'sieu', there came, I thought, a 
 dream to me one evening well, perhaps one after- 
 noon, for the days are short so short, the sun just 
 coming over a little bend of sky, and sinking down 
 like a big orange ball. I come out of a tumble of 
 little hills, and there over on the plains I saw a 
 sight ! Ragged hills of ice were thrown up, as if 
 they'd been heaved out by the breaking earth, 
 jutting here and there like wedges like the teeth 
 of a world. Alors, on one crag, shaped as an anvil, 
 I saw what struck me like a blow, and I felt the 
 blood shoot out of my heart and leave it dry. I 
 was for a minute like a pump with no water in its 
 throat to work the piston and fetch the stream up. 
 I got sick and numb. There on that anvil of 
 snow and ice I saw a big white bear, one such as 
 you shall see within the Arctic Circle, his long 
 nose fetching out towards that bleeding sun in the 
 sky, his white coat shining. But that was not the 
 thing there was another. At the feet of the bear 
 was a body, and one clawed foot was on that body 
 of a man. So clear was the air, the red sun 
 shining on the face as it was turned towards me, 
 that I wonder I did not at once know whose it 
 was. You cannot think, m'sieu', what that was 
 like no. But all at once I remembered the Chant 
 of the Scarlet Hunter. I spoke it quick, and the 
 blood came creeping back in here." He tapped 
 his chest with his slight forefinger.
 
 LITTLE BABICHE 237 
 
 "What was the chant?" asked the governor 
 who had scarce stirred a muscle since the tale 
 began. 
 
 Pierre made a little gesture of deprecation. "Ah, 
 it is perhaps a thing of foolishness, as you may 
 think" 
 
 "No, no. I have heard and seen in my day," 
 urged the governor. 
 
 " So ? Good. Yes, I remember, you told me 
 years ago, m'sieu'. . . . 
 
 " ' The blinding Trail and Night and Cold are man's : mine 
 is the trail that finds thfe Ancient Lodge. Morning and 
 Night, they travel with me ; my camp is set by the pines, 
 its fires are burning are burning. The lost, they shall sit 
 by my fires, and the fearful ones shall seek, and the sick 
 shall abide. I am the Hunter, the Son of the North ; I am 
 thy lover where no man may love thee. With me thou shalt 
 journey, and thine the Safe Tent.' 
 
 " As I said, the blood come back to my heart. I 
 turned to my dogs, and gave them a cut with the 
 whip to see if I dreamed. They sat back and 
 snarled, and their wild red eyes, the same as mine, 
 kept looking at the bear and the quiet ma/i on the 
 anvil of ice and snow. Tell me, can you think of 
 anything like it? the strange light, the white bear 
 of the Pole, that has no friends at all except the 
 shooting stars, the great ice plains, the quick night 
 hurrying on, the silence such silence as no man 
 can think ! I have seen trouble flying at me in a 
 hundred ways, but this was different, yes. We
 
 238 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 come to the foot of the little hill. Still the bear 
 not stir. As I went up, feeling for my knives and 
 my gun, the dogs began to snarl with anger, and 
 for one little step I shivered, for the thing seem 
 not natural. I was about two hundred feet away 
 from the bear when it turned slow round at me, 
 lifting its foot from the body. The dogs all at 
 once come huddling about me, and I dropped on my 
 knee to take aim, but the bear stole away from the 
 man and come moving down past us at an angle, 
 making for the plain. I could see his deep shining 
 eyes, and the steam roll from his nose in long puffs. 
 Very slow and heavy, like as if he see no one and 
 care for no one, he shambled down, and in a minute 
 was gone behind a boulder. I ran on to the man ' 
 
 The governor was leaning forward, looking in- 
 tently, and said now, " It's like a wild dream but 
 the north ! the north is near to the Strangest of 
 All!" 
 
 " I knelt down and lifted him up in my arms, all 
 a great bundle of furs and wool, and I got my 
 hand at last to his wrist. He was alive. It was 
 Little Babiche ! Part of his face was frozen stiff. 
 I rubbed out the frost with snow, and then I forced 
 some brandy into his mouth, good old H.B.C. 
 brandy, and began to call to him :' Babiche ! 
 Babiche 1 Come back, Babiche! The wolfs at 
 the pot, Babiche ! ' That's the way to call a hunter 
 to his share of meat. I was afraid, for the sleep of
 
 LITTLE BABICHE 
 
 239 
 
 cold is the sleep of death, and it is hard to call the 
 soul back to this world. But I called, and kept 
 calling, and got him on his feet, with my arm round 
 him. I gave him more brandy; and at last I almost 
 shrieked in his ear. Little by little I saw his face 
 take on the look of waking life. It was like the 
 dawn creeping over white hills and spreading into 
 day. I said to myself, What a thing it will be if I 
 can fetch him back ! For I never knew one to come 
 back after the sleep had settled on them. It is too 
 comfortable all pain gone, all trouble, the world 
 forgot, just a kind weight in all the body, as you 
 go sinking down, down to the valley, where the 
 long hands of old comrades beckon to you, and 
 their soft, high voices cry, ' Hello ! hello-o / ' } 
 
 Pierre nodded his head towards the distance, and 
 a musing smile divided his lips on his white teeth. 
 Presently he folded a cigarette, and went on : 
 
 " I had saved % something to the last, as the great 
 test, as the one thing to open his eyes wide, if they 
 could be opened at all. Alors, there was no time 
 to lose, for the wolf of Night was driving the red 
 glow-worm down behind the world, and I knew 
 that when darkness came altogether darkness and 
 night there would be no help for him. Mon Dieu! 
 how one sleeps in the night of the north, in 
 the beautiful wide silence! ... So, m'sieu', just 
 when I thought it was the time, I called, ' Corinne I 
 Corinne 1 ' Then once again I said, ' P'tite Corinne I
 
 240 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 P'tite Corinne ! Come home ! come home ! P'tite 
 Corinne ! ' I could see the fight in the jail oi 
 sleep. But at last he killed his jailer ; the doors 
 in his brain flew open, and his mind came out 
 through his wide eyes. But he was blind a little 
 and dazed, though it was getting dark quick. I 
 struck his back hard, and spoke loud from a song 
 that we used to sing on the Chaudiere Babiche 
 and all of us, years ago. Mon Dieu I how I re- 
 member those days ! 
 
 "'Which is the way that the sun goes? 
 
 The way that my little one come. 
 Which is the good path over the hills? 
 
 The path that leads to my little one's home 
 To my little one's home, m'sieu', m'sieu' I ' 
 
 " That did it. ' Corinne, ma p'tite Corinne ! ' he 
 said ; but he did not look at me only stretch out 
 his hands. I caught them, and shook them, and 
 shook him, and made him take a step forward; 
 then I slap him on the back again, and said loud, 
 'Come, come, Babiche, don't you know me? See, 
 Babiche, the snow's no sleeping-bunk, and a polar 
 bear's no good friend.' ' Corinne ! ' he went on, 
 soft and slow. 'Ma p'tite Corinne!' He smiled 
 to himself ; and I said, ' Where' ve you been, 
 Babiche? Lucky I found you, or you'd have been 
 sleeping till the Great Mass.' Then he looked at 
 me straight in the eyes, and something wild shot 
 out of his. His hand stretched over and caught
 
 LITTLE BABICHE 241 
 
 me by the shoulder, perhaps to steady himself, 
 perhaps because he wanted to feel something 
 human. Then he looked round slow all round 
 the plain, as if to find something. At that moment 
 a little of the sun crept back, and looked up over 
 . the wall of ice, making a glow of yellow and red 
 for a moment ; and never, north or south, have I 
 seen such beauty so delicate, so awful. It was" 
 like a world that its Maker had built in a fit of 
 joy, and then got tired of, and broke in pieces, and 
 blew out all its fires, and left ah yes like that ! 
 And out in the distance I I only saw a bear 
 travelling eastwards." 
 
 The governor said slowly : 
 
 "'And I took My staff Beauty, and cut it asunder, that I 
 might break My covenant which I had made with all the 
 people.' " 
 
 " Yes like that." Pierre continued : " Babiche 
 turned to me with a little laugh, which was a sob 
 too. 'Where is it, Pierre?' said he. I knew he 
 meant the bear. ' Gone to look for another man,' I 
 said, with a gay look, for I saw that he was troubled. 
 ' Come,' said he at once. As we went, he saw my 
 dogs. He stopped short and shook a little, and 
 tears came into his eyes. ' What is it, Babiche ? ' 
 said I. He looked back towards the south. ' My 
 dogs Brandy-wine, Come-along, 'Poleon, and the 
 rest died one night all of an hour. One by one 
 they crawl over to where I lay in my fur bag, and 
 16
 
 242 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 die there, huddling by me and such cries such 
 cries ! There was poison or something in the 
 frozen fish I'd given them. I loved them every 
 one ; and then there was the mails, the year's 
 mails how should they be brought on ? That was 
 a bad thought, for I had never missed never in 
 ten years. There was one bunch of letters which 
 the governor said to me was worth more than all 
 the rest of the mails put together, and I was to 
 bring it to Fort St. Saviour, or not show my face 
 to him again. I leave the dogs there in the snow, 
 and come on with the sled, carrying all the mails. 
 Ah, the blessed saints, how heavy the sled got, and 
 how lonely it was ! Nothing to speak to no one, 
 no thing, day after day. At last I go to cry to the 
 dogs, " Come-along ! 'Poleon ! Brandy-wine ! " 
 like that ! I think I see them there, but they never 
 bark and they never snarl, and they never spring 
 to the snap of the whip. ... I was alone. Oh, my 
 head ! my head ! If there was only something 
 alive to look at, besides the wide white plain, and 
 the bare hills of ice, and the sun-dogs in the sky ! 
 Now I was wild, next hour I was like a child, then 
 I gnash my teeth like a wolf at the sun, and at 
 last I got on my knees. The tears froze my eye- 
 lids shut, but I kept saying, " Ah, my great Friend, 
 my Jesu, just something, something with the breath 
 of life ! Leave me not all alone 1 " and I got 
 sleepier all the time.
 
 LITTLE BAB1CHE 243 
 
 "'I was sinking, sinking, so quiet and easy, 
 when all at once I felt something beside me; I 
 could hear it breathing, but I could not open 
 my eyes at first, for, as I say, the lashes were 
 froze. Something touch me, smell me, and a 
 nose was push against my chest. I put out my 
 hand ver' soft and touch it. I had no fear, I was 
 so glad I could have hug it, but I did not I 
 drew back my hand quiet and rub my eyes. In a 
 little I can see. There stand the thing a polar 
 bear not ten feet away, its red eyes shining. On 
 my knees I spoke to it, talk to it, as I would to 
 a man. It was like a great wild dog, fierce, yet 
 kind, and I fed it with the fish which had been for 
 Brandy-wine and the rest but not to kill it! and it 
 did not die. That night I lie down in my bag 
 no, I was not afraid! The bear lie beside me, 
 between me and the sled. Ah, it was warm ! Day 
 after day we travel together, and camp together at 
 night ah, sweet Sainte Anne, how good it was, 
 myself and the wild beast such friends, alone in the 
 north 1 But to-day a little while ago something 
 went wrong with me, and I got sick in the head, a 
 swimming like a tide wash in and out. I fell down 
 asleep. When I wake I find you here beside me 
 that is all. The bear must have drag me here.' " 
 
 Pierre stuck a splinter into the fire to light 
 another cigarette, and paused as if expecting the 
 governor to speak, but no word coming, he con-
 
 244 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 tinued : " I had my arm around him while we 
 talked and come slowly down the hill. Soon he 
 stopped and said, 'This is the place.' It was a 
 cave of ice, and we went in. Nothing was there 
 to see except the sled. Babiche stopped short. 
 It come to him now that his good comrade was 
 gone. He turned, and looked out, and called, but 
 there was only the empty night, the ice, and the 
 stars. Then he come back, sat down on the sled, 
 and the tears fall. ... I lit my spirit-lamp, boiled 
 coffee, got pemmican from my bag, and I tried to 
 make him eat. No. He would only drink the 
 coffee. At last he said to me, ' What day is this, 
 Pierre?' 'It is the day of the Great Birth, 
 Babiche,' I said. He made the sign of the cross, 
 and was quiet, so quiet ! but he smile to himself, 
 and kept saying in a whisper, ' Ma p'tite Corinne ! 
 Ma p'tite Corinne ! ' The next day we come on 
 safe, and in a week I was back at Fort St. Saviour 
 with Babiche and all the mails, and that most 
 wonderful letter of the governor's." 
 
 "The letter was to tell a factor that his sick 
 child in the hospital at Quebec was well," the 
 governor responded quietly. " Who was ' Ma 
 p'tite Corinne,' Pierre ? " 
 
 " His wife in heaven ; and his child on the 
 Chaudiere, m'sieu'. The child came and the 
 mother went on the same day of the Great Birth. 
 He has a soft heart that Babiche 1 "
 
 LITTLE BABICHE 
 
 245 
 
 "And the white bear so strange a thing!" 
 
 " M'sieu', who can tell ? The world is young 
 up here. When it was all young, man and beast 
 were good comrades, maybe." 
 
 " Ah, maybe. What shall be done with Little 
 Babiche, Pierre ? " 
 
 " He will never be the same again on the old 
 trail, m'sieu' 1 " 
 
 There was silence for a long time, but at last 
 the governor said, musing, almost tenderly, for 
 he never had a child : " Ma p'tite Corinne ! Little, 
 Babiche shall live near his child, Pierre. I will 
 see to that." 
 
 Pierre said no word, but got up, took off his hat 
 to the governor, and sat down again.
 
 At Point o' Bugles 
 
 7OHN YORK, John York, where an thou gone, 
 John York?" 
 
 "What's that, Pierre?" said Sir Duke Lawless, 
 starting to his feet and peering round. 
 
 " Hush ! " was Pierre's reply. " Wait for the 
 rest. . . . There!" 
 
 " King of my heart, king of my heart, I am out on 
 the trail of thy bugles" 
 
 Sir Duke was about to speak, but Pierre lifted a 
 hand in warning, and then through the still night 
 there came the long cry of a bugle, rising, falling, 
 strangely clear, echoing and echoing again, and 
 dying away. A moment, and the call was repeated, 
 with the same effect, and again a third time ; then 
 all was still, save for the flight of birds roused from 
 the desire of night, and the long breath of some 
 animal in the woods sinking back to sleep. 
 
 Their camp was pitched on the south shore of 
 Hudson's Bay, many leagues to the west of Rupert 
 House, not far from the Moose River. Looking 
 north was the wide expanse of the bay, dotted with 
 sterile islands here and there ; to the east were the
 
 AT POINT O' BUGLES 247 
 
 barren steppes of Labrador, and all round them the 
 calm, incisive air of a late September, when winter 
 begins to shake out his frosty curtains and hang 
 them on the cornice of the north, despite the high 
 protests of the sun. The two adventurers had 
 come together after years of separation, and Sir 
 Duke had urged Pierre to fare away with him to 
 Hudson's Bay, which he had never seen, although 
 he had shares in the great Company, left him by 
 his uncle the admiral. 
 
 They were camped in a hollow, to the right a 
 clump of hardy trees, with no great deal of foliage, 
 but some stoutness ; to the left a long finger of 
 land running out into the water like a wedge, the 
 most eastern point of the western shore of Hudson's 
 Bay. It was high and bold, and, somehow, had 
 a fine dignity and beauty. From it a path led 
 away north to a great log -fort called King's 
 House. 
 
 Lawless saw Pierre half rise and turn his head, 
 listening. Presently he too heard the sound the 
 soft crash of crisp grass under the feet. He raised 
 himself to a sitting posture and waited. 
 
 Presently a tall figure came out of the dusk into 
 the light of their fire, and a long arm waved a greet- 
 ing at them. Both Lawless and Pierre rose to 
 their feet. The stranger was dressed in buckskin, 
 he carried a rifle, and around his shoulder was a 
 strong yellow cord, from which hung a bugle.
 
 248 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " How f" he said, with a nod, and drew near the 
 fire, stretching out his hands to the blaze. 
 
 " How ! " said Lawless and Pierre. 
 
 After a moment Lawless drew from his blanket 
 a flask of brandy, and without a word handed 
 it over the fire. The fingers of the two men met 
 in the flicker of flames, a sort of bond by fire, and 
 the stranger raised the flask. 
 
 " Chin-chin? he said, and drank, breathing a long 
 sigh of satisfaction afterwards as he handed it 
 back ; but it was Pierre that took it, and again 
 fingers touched in the bond of fire. Pierre passed 
 the flask to Lawless, who lifted it. 
 
 " Chin-chin" he said, drank, and gave the flask 
 to Pierre again, who did as did the others, and 
 said " Chin-chin " also. 
 
 By that salutation of the east, given in the far 
 north, Lawless knew that he had met one who had 
 lighted fires where men are many and close to the 
 mile as holes in a sieve. 
 
 They all sat down, and tobacco went round, the 
 stranger offering his, while the two others, with 
 true hospitality, accepted. 
 
 " We heard you over there it was you ? " said 
 Lawless, nodding towards Point o' Bugles, and 
 glancing at the bugle the other carried. 
 
 " Yes, it was me," was the reply. " Someone 
 always does it twice a year: on the 2 5th September 
 and the 25th March. I've done it now without a
 
 AT POINT O' BUGLES 249 
 
 break for ten years, until it has got to be a sort of 
 religion with me, and the whole thing's as real as 
 if King George and John York were talking. As 
 I tramp to the point or swing away back, in 
 summer barefooted, in winter on my snow-shoes, 
 to myself I seem to be John York on the trail of 
 the king's bugles. I've thought so much about the 
 whole thing, I've read so many of John York's 
 letters and how many times one of the King's ! 
 that now I scarcely know which is the bare story, 
 and which the bits I've dreamed as I've tramped 
 over the plains or sat in the quiet at King's House, 
 spelling out little by little the man's life, from the 
 cues I found in his journal, in the Company's papers, 
 and in that one letter of the King's." 
 
 Pierre's eyes were now more keen than those of 
 Lawless : for years he had known vaguely of this 
 legend of Point o' Bugles. 
 
 "You know it all," he said, " begin at the 
 beginning: how and when you first heard, how 
 you got the real story, and never mind which is 
 taken from the papers and which from your own 
 mind if it all fits in it is all true, for the lie never 
 fits in right with the square truth. If you have the 
 footprints and the handprints you can tell the 
 whole man ; if you have the horns of a deer you 
 know it as if you had killed it, skinned it, and 
 potted it." 
 
 The stranger stretched himself before the fire,
 
 2 5 o AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 nodding at his hosts as he did so, and then 
 began : 
 
 "Well, a word about myself first," he said, "so 
 you'll know just where you are. I was full up of 
 life in London town and India, and that's a fact. 
 I'd plenty of friends and little money, and my will 
 wasn't equal to the task of keeping out of the 
 hands of the Jews. I didn't know what to do, but 
 I had to go somewhere, that was clear. Where ? 
 An accident decided it. I came across an old 
 journal of my great-grandfather, John York, my 
 name's Dick Adderley, and just as if a chain had 
 been put round my leg and I'd been jerked over by 
 the tipping of the world, I had to come to Hudson's 
 Bay. John York's journal was a thing to sit up 
 nights to read. It came back to England after 
 he'd had his fill of Hudson's Bay and the earth 
 beneath, and had gone, as he himself said on the 
 last page of the journal, to follow the king's buglers 
 in 'the land that is far off.' God and the devil 
 were strong in old John York. I didn't lose much 
 time after I'd read the journal. I went to Hudson's 
 Bay house in London, got a place in the Company, 
 by the help of the governor himself, and came out. 
 I've learned the rest of the history of old John 
 York the part that never got to England ; for 
 here at King's House there's a holy tradition that 
 the real John York belongs to it and to it alone." 
 
 Adderley laughed a little. " King's House guards
 
 AT POINT O' BUGLES 251 
 
 John York's memory, and it's as fresh and real 
 here now as though he'd died yesterday ; though 
 it's forgotten in England, and by most who bear his 
 name, and the present Prince of Wales maybe never 
 heard of the man who was a close friend of the 
 Prince Regent, the First Gentleman of Europe." 
 
 " That sounds sweet gossip," said Lawless, with 
 a smile ; " we're waiting." 
 
 Adderley continued : " John York was an honest 
 man, of wholesome sport, jovial, and never shirking 
 with the wine, commendable in his appetite, of 
 rollicking soul and proud temper, and a gay dog 
 altogether gay, but to be trusted too, for he had 
 a royal heart. In the coltish days of the Prince 
 Regent he was a boon comrade, but never did he 
 stoop to flattery, nor would he hedge when truth 
 should be spoken, as ofttimes it was needed with 
 the royal blade, for at times he would forget that a 
 prince was yet a man, topped with the accident of 
 a crown. Never prince had truer friend, and so in 
 his best hours he thought, himself, and if he ever 
 was just and showed his better part, it was to the 
 bold country gentleman who never minced praise 
 or blame, but said his say and devil take the end 
 of it. In truth, the Prince was wilful, and once he 
 did a thing which might have given a twist to the 
 fate of England. Hot for the love ot women, and 
 with some dash of real romance in him too, else 
 even as a prince he might have had shallower love
 
 252 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 and service he called John York one day and 
 said : 
 
 "'To-night at seven, Squire John, you'll stand 
 with me while I put the seal on the Gates of Eden ' ; 
 and, when the other did not guess his import, 
 added : ' Sir Mark Selby is your neighbour his 
 daughter's for my arms to-night. You know her, 
 handsome Sally Selby she's for your prince, for 
 good or ill.' 
 
 "John York did not understand at first, for 
 he could not think the Prince had anything in 
 mind but some hot escapade of love. When 
 Mistress Selby 's name was mentioned his heart 
 stood still, for she had been his choice, the dear 
 apple of his eye, since she had bloomed towards 
 womanhood. He had set all his hopes upon her, 
 tarrying till she should have seen some little life 
 before he asked her for his wife. He had her 
 father's God-speed to his wooing, for he was a man 
 whom all men knew honest and generous as the 
 sun, and only choleric with the mean thing. She, 
 also, had given him good cause to think that he 
 should one day take her to his home, a loved and 
 honoured wife. His impulse, when her name 
 passed the Prince's lips, was to draw his sword, 
 for he would have called an emperor to account ; 
 but presently he saw the real meaning of the 
 speech: that the Prince would marry her that 
 night"
 
 AT POINT O' BUGLES 253 
 
 Here the story-teller paused again, and Pierre 
 said softly, inquiringly : 
 
 "You began to speak in your own way, and 
 you've come to another way like going from an 
 almanac to the Mass." 
 
 The other smiled. "That's so. I've heard it 
 told by old Shearton at King's House, who speaks 
 as if he'd stepped out of Shakespeare, and somehow 
 I seem to hear him talking, and I tell it as he told 
 it last year to the governor of the Company. 
 Besides, I've listened these seven years to his 
 style." 
 
 " It's a strange beginning unwritten history of 
 England," said Sir Duke musingly. 
 
 " You shall hear stranger things yet," answered 
 Adderley. "John York could hardly believe it 
 at first, for the thought of such a thing never had 
 place in his mind. Besides, the Prince knew how 
 he had looked upon the lady, and he could not 
 have thought his comrade would come in between 
 him and his happiness. Perhaps it was the 
 difficulty, adding spice to the affair, that sent the 
 Prince to the appeal of private marriage to win 
 the lady, and John York always held that he 
 loved her truly then, the first and only real 
 a.fectioi; of his life. The lady who can tell what 
 won her over from the honest gentleman to the 
 faithless prince ? That soul ot vanity which wraps 
 about the real soul of every woman fell down at
 
 254 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 last before the highest office in the land, and the 
 gifted bearer of the office. But the noble spirit in 
 her brought him to offer marriage, when he might 
 otherwise have offered, say, a barony. There is a 
 record of that and more in John York's Memoirs 
 which I will tell you, for they have settled in my 
 mind like an old song, and I learned them long 
 ago. I give you John York's words written by 
 his own hands : 
 
 " ' I did not think when I beheld thee last, 
 dearest flower of the world's garden, that I should 
 see thee bloom in that wide field, rank with the 
 sorrows of royal favour. How did my foolish 
 eyes fill with tears when I watched thee, all rose 
 and gold in thy cheeks and hair, the light falling 
 on thee through the chapel window, putting thy 
 pure palm into my prince's, swearing thy life 
 away, selling the very blossoms of earth's orchards 
 for the brier beauty of a hidden vineyard ! I saw 
 the flying glories of thy cheeks, the halycon 
 weather of thy smile, the delicate lifting of thy 
 bosom, the dear gaiety of thy step, and, at that 
 moment, I mourned for thy sake that thou wert 
 not the dullest wench in the land, for then thou 
 hadst been spared thy miseries, thou hadst been 
 saved the torture-boot of a lost love and a dis- 
 acknowledged wifedom. Yet I could not hide 
 from me that thou wert happy at that great 
 moment, when he swore to love and cherish thee,
 
 AT POINT O' BUGLES 255 
 
 till death you parted. Ah, George, my prince, my 
 king, how wickedly thou didst break thy vows 
 with both of us who loved thee well, through good 
 and ill report for they spake evil of thee, George ; 
 ay, the meanest of thy subjects spake lightly of 
 their king when with that sweet soul secretly 
 hid away in the farthest corner of thy kingdom, 
 thou sough tst divorce from thy later Caroline, 
 whom thou, unfaithful, didst charge with infidelity. 
 When, at last, thou didst turn again to the partner 
 of thy youth, thy true wife in the eyes of God, it 
 was too late. Thou didst promise me that thou 
 wouldst never take another wife, never put our 
 dear heart away, though she could not after our 
 miserable laws bear thee princes. Thou didst 
 break thy promise, yet she forgave thee, and I 
 forgave thee, for well we knew that thou wouldst 
 pay a heavy reckoning, and that in the hour when 
 thou shouldst cry to us we might not come to 
 thee ; that in the days when age and sorrow and 
 vast troubles should oppress thee, thou wouldst 
 long for the true hearts who loved thee for thyself 
 and not for aught thou couldst give, or aught that 
 thou wert, save as a man. 
 
 " ' When thou didst proclaim thy purpose to take 
 Caroline to wife, I pleaded with thee, I was wroth 
 with thee. Thy one plea was succession. Suc- 
 cession ! Succession ! What were a hundred 
 dynasties beside that precious life, eaten by shame
 
 256 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 and sorrow ? It were easy for others, not thy 
 children, to come after thee, to rule as well as 
 thee, as must even now be the case, for thou hast 
 no lawful child save that one in the loneliest 
 corner of thy English vineyard alack ! alack ! I 
 warned thee, George, I pleaded, and thou didst 
 drive me out with words ill-suited to thy friend 
 who loved thee. 
 
 " ' I did not fear thee, I would have forced thee 
 to thy knees or made thee fight me, had not some 
 good spirit cried to my heart that thou wert her 
 husband, and that we both had loved thee. I 
 dared not listen to the brutal thing thou hintedst 
 at that now I might fatten where I had hungered. 
 Thou hadst to answer for the baseness of that 
 thought to the King of kings, when thou wen test 
 forth alone, no subject, courtier, friend, wife, or 
 child to do thee service, journeying not en prince, 
 George ; no, not en prince \ but as a naked soul 
 to God. 
 
 " ' Thou saidst to me : " Get thee gone, John 
 York, where I shall no more see thee." And 
 when I returned, " Wouldst thou have me leave 
 thy country, sir ? " thou answeredst, " Blow thy 
 quarrelsome soul to the stars where my farthest 
 bugle cries." Then I said : " I go, sir, till thou 
 callest me again and after ; but not till thou 
 hast honoured the child of thy honest wedlock ; 
 till thou hast secured thy wife to the end of her
 
 AT POINT O' BUGLES 257 
 
 life against all manner of trouble save the shame 
 of thy disloyalty." There was no more for me to 
 do, for my deep love itself forbade my staying 
 longer within reach of the noble deserted soul. 
 And so I saw the chastened glory of her face 
 no more, nor evermore beheld her perfectness.' " 
 
 Adderley paused once more, and, after refilling 
 his pipe in silence, continued : 
 
 " That was the heart of the thing. His soul 
 sickened of the rank world, as he called it, and he 
 came out to the Hudson's Bay country, leaving 
 his estates in care of his nephew, but taking many 
 stores and great chests of clothes and a shipload 
 of furniture, instruments of music, more than a 
 thousand books, some good pictures, and great 
 stores of wine. Here he came and stayed, an 
 officer of the Company, building King's House, 
 and filling it with all the fine things he had 
 brought with him, making in this far north a 
 little palace in the wilderness. Here he lived, his 
 great heart growing greater in this wide sinewy 
 world, King's House a place of pilgrimage for all 
 the Company's men in the north ; a noble gentle- 
 man in a sweet exile, loving what he could no 
 more, what he did no more, see. 
 
 " Twice a year he went to that point yonder and 
 blew this bugle, no man knew why or wherefore, 
 year in year out till 1817. Then there came a 
 letter to him with great seals, which began : 'John
 
 258 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 York, John York, where art thou gone, John 
 York?' There followed a score of sorrowful 
 sentences, full of petulance too, for it was as 
 John York foretold, his prince longed for the true 
 souls whom he had cast off. But he called too 
 late, for the neglected wife died from the shock 
 of her prince's longing message to her, and when, 
 by the same mail, John York knew that, he would 
 not go back to England to the King. But twice 
 every year he went to yonder point and spoke 
 out the King's words to him: 'John York, John 
 York, where art thou gone, John York ? ' and gave 
 the words of his own letter in reply : ' King of my 
 heart, king of my heart, I am out on the trail of 
 thy bugles.' To this he added three calls of the 
 bugle, as you have heard." 
 
 Adderley handed the bugle to Lawless, who 
 looked at it with deep interest and passed it on to 
 Pierre. 
 
 " When he died," Adderley continued, " he left 
 the house, the fittings, and the stores to the officers 
 of the Company who should be stationed there, 
 with a sum of money yearly, provided that twice 
 in twelve months the bugle should be blown as 
 you have heard it, and those words called out." 
 
 " Why did he do that?" asked Lawless, nodding 
 towards the point. 
 
 " Why do they swing the censers at the Mass ? " 
 interjected Pierre. " Man has signs for memories,
 
 AT POINT O' BUGLES 259 
 
 and one man seeing another's sign will remember 
 his own." 
 
 "You stay because you like it at King's 
 House ? " asked Lawless of Adderley. 
 
 The other stretched himself lazily to the fire 
 and, " I am at home," he said. " I have no cares. 
 I had all there was of that other world ; I've not 
 had enough of this. You'll come with me to 
 King's House to-morrow?" he added. 
 
 To their quick assent he rejoined: "You'll 
 never want to leave. You'll stay on." 
 
 To this Lawless replied, shaking his head : " I 
 have a wife and child in England." 
 
 But Pierre did not reply. He lifted the bugle, 
 mutely asking a question of Adderley, who as 
 mutely replied, and then, with it in his hand, left 
 the other two beside the fire. 
 
 A few minutes later they heard, with three calls 
 of the bugle from the point afterwards, Pierre's 
 voice : 
 
 " John York, John York, where art thou gone, 
 John York?" 
 
 Then came the reply : 
 
 " King of my heart, king of my heart, I am 
 out on the trail of thy bugles."
 
 The Spoil of the Puma 
 
 T UST at the point where the Peace River first 
 I hugs the vast outpost hills of the Rockies, 
 before it hurries timorously on, through an 
 unexplored region, to Fort St. John, there stood 
 a hut. It faced the west, and was built half-way 
 up Clear Mountain. In winter it had snows 
 above it and below it ; in summer it had snow 
 above it and a very fair stretch of trees and grass, 
 while the river flowed on the same winter and 
 summer. It was a lonely country. Travelling 
 north, you would have come to the Turnagain 
 River ; west, to the Frying Pan Mountains ; south, 
 to a goodly land. But from the hut you had no 
 outlook towards the south ; your eye came plump 
 against a hard lofty hill, like a wall between 
 heaven and earth. It is strange, too, that, when 
 you are in the far north, you do not look towards 
 the south until the north turns an iron hand upon 
 you and refuses the hospitality of food and fire ; 
 your eyes are drawn towards the Pole by that 
 charm deadly and beautiful for which men 
 have given up three points of the compass, with 
 
 260
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 261 
 
 their pleasures and ease, to seek a grave solitude, 
 broken only by the beat of a musk-ox's hoofs, the 
 long breath of the caribou, orthe wild cry of the puma. 
 
 Sir Duke Lawless had felt this charm, and had 
 sworn that one day he would again leave his home 
 in Devon and his house in Pont Street, and, finding 
 Pierre, Shon M'Gann, and others of his old com- 
 rades, together they would travel into those austere 
 yet pleasant wilds. He kept his word, found Shon 
 M'Gann. and on an autumn day of a year not so 
 long ago lounged in this hut on Clear Mountain. 
 They had had three months of travel and sport, 
 and were filled, but not sated, with the joy of the 
 hunter. They were very comfortable, for their 
 host, Pourcette, the French Canadian, had fire and 
 meat in plenty, and, if silent, was attentive to their 
 comfort a little, black-bearded, grey-headed man, 
 with heavy brows over small vigilant eyes, deft 
 with his fingers, and an excellent sportsman, as 
 could be told from the skins heaped in all the 
 corners of the large hut. 
 
 The skins were not those of mere foxes or 
 martens or deer, but of mountain lions and 
 grizzlies. There were besides many soft, tiger- 
 like skins, which Sir Duke did not recognise. He 
 kept looking at them, and at last went over and 
 examined one. 
 
 "What's this, Monsieur Pourcette?" he said, 
 feeling it as it lay on the top of the pile.
 
 262 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 The little man pushed the log on the fireplace 
 with his moccasined foot before he replied : " Of 
 a puma, m'sieu'." 
 
 Sir Duke smoothed it with his hand. " I didn't 
 know there were pumas here." 
 
 " Faith, Sir Duke" 
 
 Sir Duke Lawless turned on Shon quickly. 
 "You're forgetting again, Shon. There's no 'Sir 
 Dukes ' between us. What you were to me years 
 ago on the wallyby-track and the buffalo-trail, 
 you are now, and I'm the same also : M'Gann and 
 Lawless, and no other." 
 
 " Well, then, Lawless, it's true enough as he says 
 it, for I've seen more than wan skin brought in, 
 though I niver clapped eye on the beast alive. 
 There's few men go huntin' them av their own free 
 will, not more than they do grizzlies ; but, bedad, 
 this Frinch gintleman has either the luck o' the 
 world, or the gift o' that man ye tould me of, that 
 slew the wild boars in anciency. Look at that, 
 now: there's thirty or forty puma-skins, and I'd 
 take my oath there isn't another man in the 
 country that's shot half that in his lifetime." 
 
 Pourcette's eyes were on the skins, not on the 
 men, and he did not appear to listen. He sat 
 leaning forward, with a strange look on his face. 
 Presently he got up, came over, and stroked the 
 skins softly. A queer chuckling noise came from 
 his throat
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 263 
 
 " It was good sport ? " asked Lawless, feeling a 
 new interest in him. 
 
 "The grandest sport but it is not so easy," 
 answered the old man. "The grizzly comes on 
 you bold and strong ; you know your danger right 
 away, and have it out. So. But the puma comes 
 God, how the puma comes ! " He broke off, his 
 eyes burning bright under his bushy brows and 
 his body arranging itself into an attitude of 
 expectation and alertness. 
 
 " You have travelled far. The sun goes down. 
 You build a fire and cook your meat, and then 
 good tea and the tabac. It is ver' fine. You hear 
 the loon crying on the water, or the last whistle of 
 the heron up the pass. The lights in the sky 
 come out and shine through a thin mist there is 
 nothing like that mist, it is so fine and soft. Allans. 
 You are sleepy. You bless the good God. You 
 stretch pine branches, wrap in your blanket, and 
 lie down to sleep. If it is winter and you have a 
 friend, you lie close. It is all quiet. As you sleep, 
 something comes. It slides along the ground on 
 its belly, like a snake. It is a pity if you have not 
 ears that feel the whole body as ears. For there 
 is a swift lunge, a snarl ah, you should hear it! 
 the thing has you by the throat, and there is an 
 end!" 
 
 The old man had acted all the scenes : a side- 
 long glance, a little gesture, a movement of the
 
 264 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 body, a quick, harsh breath without emphatic 
 excitement, yet with a reality and force that 
 fascinated his two listeners. When he paused, 
 Shon let go a long breath, and Lawless looked 
 with keen inquiry at their entertainer. This almost 
 unnatural, yet quiet, intensity had behind it some- 
 thing besides the mere spirit of the sportsman. 
 Such exhibitions of feeling generally have an 
 unusual personal interest to give them point and 
 meaning. 
 
 " Yes, that's wonderful, Pourcette," he said ; 
 " but that's when the puma has things its own way. 
 How is it when these come off? " He stroked the 
 soft furs under his hand. 
 
 The man laughed, yet without a sound the 
 inward, stealthy laugh, as from a knowledge 
 wicked in its very suggestiveness. His eyes ran 
 from Lawless to Shon, and back again. He put 
 his hand on his mouth, as though for silence, stole 
 noiselessly over to the wall, took down his gun 
 quietly, and turned round. Then he spoke softly : 
 
 "To kill the puma, you must watch always 
 watch. You will see his yellow eyes sometimes 
 in a tree : you must be ready before he springs. 
 You will hear his breath at night as you pretend 
 to sleep, and you wait till you see his foot steal 
 out of the shadow then you have him. From a 
 mountain wall you watch in the morning, and, 
 when you see him, you follow, and follow, and do
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 265 
 
 not rest till you have found him. You must never 
 miss fire, for he has great strength and a mad tooth. 
 But when you have got him, he is worth all. You 
 cannot eat the grizzly he is too thick and coarse ; 
 but the puma well, you had him from the pot 
 to-night. Was he not good ? " 
 
 Lawless's brows ran up in surprise. Shon spoke 
 quickly : 
 
 " Heaven above ! " he burst out. " Was it puma 
 we had betune the teeth ? And what's puma but 
 an almighty cat ? Sure, though, it wint as tinder 
 as pullets, for all that but I wish you hadn't 
 tould us." 
 
 The old man stood leaning on his gun, his chin 
 on his hands, as they covered the muzzle, his eyes 
 fixed on something in his memory, the vision of 
 incidents he had lived or seen. 
 
 Lawless went over to the fire and relit his pipe. 
 Shon followed him. They both watched Pourcette. 
 
 " D'ye think he's mad? " asked Shon in a whisper. 
 
 Lawless shook his head: "Mad? No. But 
 there's more in this puma-hunting than appears. 
 How long has he lived here, did he say?" 
 
 " Four years ; and, durin' that time, yours and 
 mine are the only white faces he has seen, except 
 one." 
 
 " Except one. Well, whose was the one ? That 
 might be interesting. Maybe there's a story in that." 
 
 " Faith, Lawless, there's a story worth the hearin',
 
 266 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 I'm thinkin', to every white man in this country. 
 For the three years I was in the mounted police, 
 I could count a story for all the days o' the cal- 
 endar and not all o' them would make you happy 
 to hear." 
 
 Pourcette turned round to them. He seemed to 
 be listening to Shon's words. Going to the wall, 
 he hung up the rifle ; then- he came to the fire and 
 stood holding out his hands to the blaze. He did 
 not look in the least mad, but like a man who was 
 dominated by some one thought, more or less 
 weird. Short and slight, and a little bent, but 
 more from habit the habit of listening and watch- 
 ing than from age, his face had a stern kind of 
 earnestness and loneliness, and nothing at all of 
 insanity. 
 
 Presently Lawless went to a corner, and from 
 his kit drew forth a flask. The old man saw, and 
 immediately brought out a wooden cup. There 
 were two on the shelf, and Shon pointed to the 
 other. Pourcette took no notice. Shon went over 
 to get it, but Pourcette laid a hand on his arm 
 " Not that" 
 
 " For ornamint ! " said Shon, laughing, and then 
 his eyes were arrested by a suit of buckskin and 
 a cap of beaver, hanging on the wall. He turned 
 them over, and then suddenly drew back his hand, 
 for he saw in the back of the jacket a knife-slit. 
 There was blood also on the buckskin. .
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 267 
 
 " Holy Mary !" he said, and retreated. Lawless 
 had not noticed ; he was pouring out the liquor. 
 He had handed the cup first to Pourcette, who 
 raised it towards a gun hung above the fireplace, 
 and said something under his breath. 
 
 "A dramatic little fellow," thought Lawless; 
 " the spirit of his forefathers a good deal of heart, 
 a little of the poseur." 
 
 Then hearing Shon's exclamation, he turned. 
 
 " It's an ugly sight," said Shon, pointing to the 
 jacket. They both looked at Pourcette, expecting 
 him to speak. The old man reached to the coat, 
 and, turning it so that the cut and the blood were 
 hid, ran his hand down it caressingly. " Ah, poor 
 Jo! poor Jo Gordineer!" he said; then he came 
 over once more to the fire, sat down, and held out 
 his hands to the fire, shaking his head. 
 
 " For God's sake, Lawless, give me a drink ! " 
 said Shon. Their eyes met, and there was the 
 same look in the faces of both. When Shon had 
 drunk, he said : " So, that's what's come to our old 
 friend, Jo : dead killed or murdered 
 
 " Don't speak so loud," said Lawless. " Let us 
 get the story from him first." 
 
 Years before, when Shon M'Gann and Pierre 
 and Lawless had sojourned in the Pipi Valley, Jo 
 Gordineer had been with them, as stupid and true 
 a man as ever drew in his buckle in a hungry land, 
 or let it out to much corn and oil. When Lawless
 
 268 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 x 
 
 returned to find Shon and others of his companions, 
 he had asked for Gordineer. But not Shon nor 
 anyone else could tell aught of him ; he had wan- 
 dered north to outlying goldfields, and then had 
 disappeared completely. But there, as it would 
 seem, his coat and cap hung, and his rifle, dust- 
 covered, kept guard over the fire. 
 
 Shon went over to the coat, did as Pourcette 
 had done, and said : " Is it gone y'are, Jo, wid your 
 slow tongue and your big heart ? Wan by wan 
 the lads are off." 
 
 Pourcette, without any warning, began speaking, 
 but in a very quiet tone at first, as if unconscious 
 of the others : 
 
 " Poor Jo Gordineer ! Yes, he is gone. He was 
 my friend so tall, and such a hunter ! We were 
 at the Ding-Dong goldfields together. . When luck 
 went bad, I said to him : ' Come, we will go' where 
 there is plenty of wild meat, and a summer more 
 beautiful than in the south.' I did not want to 
 part from him, for once, when some miner stole my 
 claim, and I fought, he stood by me. But in some 
 things he was a little child. That was from his 
 big heart. Well, he would go, he said ; and we 
 came away." 
 
 He suddenly became silent ; and shook his head, 
 and spoke under his breath. 
 
 "Yes," said Lawless quietly, "you went away. 
 What then ? "
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 269 
 
 He looked up quickly, as though just aware of 
 their presence, and continued : 
 
 " Well, the other followed, as I said, and " 
 
 "No, Pourcette," interposed Lawless, "you didn't 
 say. Who was the other that followed ? " 
 
 The old man looked at him gravely, and a little 
 severely, and continued : 
 
 " As I said, Gawdor followed he and an Indian. 
 Gawdor thought we were going for gold, because 
 I had said I knew a place in the north where there 
 was gold in a river I know the place, but that is 
 no matter. We did not go for gold just then. 
 Gawdor hated Jo Gordineer. There was a half- 
 breed girl. She was fine to look at. She would 
 have gone to Gordineer if he had beckoned, any 
 time ; but he waited he was very slow, except 
 with his finger on a gun ; he waited too long. 
 Gawdor was mad for the girl. He knew why her 
 feet came slow to the door when he knocked. He 
 would have quarrelled with Jo, if he had dared ; 
 Gordineer was too quick a shot He would have 
 killed him from behind ; but it was known in the 
 camp that he was no friend of Gordineer, and it 
 was not safe." 
 
 Again Pourcette was silent. Lawless put on 
 his knee a new pipe, filled with tobacco. The 
 little man took it, lighted it, and smoked on in 
 silence for a time undisturbed. Shon broke the 
 silence, by a whisper to Lawless:
 
 270 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " Jo was a quiet man, as patient as a priest ; but 
 when his blood came up, there was trouble in the 
 land. Do you remimber whin " 
 
 Lawless interrupted him and motioned towards 
 Pourcette. The old man, after a few puffs, held 
 the pipe on his knee, disregarding it. Lawless 
 silently offered him some more whisky, but he 
 shook his head. Presently, he again took up the 
 thread : 
 
 " Bien, we travelled slow up through the smoky 
 river country, and beyond into a wild land. We 
 had bully sport as we went. Sometimes I heard 
 shots far away behind us; but Gordineer said it 
 was my guess, for we saw nobody. But I had a 
 feeling. Never mind. At last we come to the 
 Peace River. It was in the early autumn like this, 
 when the land is full of comfort. What is there 
 like it? Nothing. The mountains have colours 
 like a girl's eyes; the smell of the trees is sweet 
 like a child's breath, and the grass feels for the 
 foot and lifts it with a little soft spring. We said 
 we could live here for ever. We built this house 
 high up, as you see, first, because it is good to live 
 high it puts life in the blood ; and, as Gordineer 
 said, it is noble to look far over the world, every 
 time your house-door is open, or the parchment is 
 down from the window. We killed wapiti and 
 caribou without number, and cached them for our 
 food. We caught fish ifi the river, and made tea
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 271 
 
 out of the brown berry it is very good. We had 
 flour, a little, which we had brought with us, and I 
 went to Fort St. John and got more. Since then, 
 down in the valley, I have wheat every summer ; 
 for the Chinook winds blow across the mountains 
 and soften the bitter cold. 
 
 " Well, for that journey to Fort St John. When 
 I got back I found Gawdor with Gordineer. He 
 said he had come north to hunt. His Indian had 
 left, and he had lost his way. Gordineer believed 
 him. He never lied himself. I said nothing, but 
 watched. After a time he asked where the gold- 
 field was. I told him, and he started away it 
 was about fifty miles to the north. He went, and 
 on his way back he come here. He say he could 
 not find the place, and was going south. I know 
 he lied. At this time I saw that Gordineer was 
 changed. He was slow in the head, and so, when 
 he began thinking up here, it made him lonely. 
 It is always in a fine land like this, where 
 game is plenty, and the heart dances for joy in 
 your throat, and you sit by the fire that you 
 think of some woman who would be glad to draw 
 in and tie the strings of the tent-curtain, or fasten 
 the latch of the door upon you two alone." 
 
 Perhaps some memory stirred within the old 
 man, other than that of his dead comrade, for he 
 sighed, muffled his mouth in his beard, and then 
 smiled in a distant way at the fire. The pure truth
 
 272 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 of what he said came home to Shon M'Gann and 
 Sir Duke Lawless ; for both, in days gone by, had 
 sat at camp-fires in silent plains, and thought upon 
 women from whom they believed they were parted 
 for ever, yet who were only kept from them for a 
 time, to give them happier days. They were 
 thinking of these two women now. They scarcely 
 knew how long they sat there thinking. Time 
 passes swiftly when thoughts are cheerful, or are 
 only tinged with the soft melancholy of a brief 
 separation. Memory is man's greatest friend and 
 worst enemy. 
 
 At last the old man continued : " I saw the 
 thing grew on him. He was not sulky, but he 
 stare much in the fire at night. In the daytime 
 he was differen'. A hunter thinks only of his 
 sport. Gawdor watched him. Gordineer's hand 
 was steady ; his nerve was all right. I have seen 
 him stand still till a grizzly come within twice the 
 length of his gun. Then he would twist his 
 mouth, and fire into the mortal spot. Once we 
 were out in the Wide Wing pass. We had never 
 had such a day. Gordineer make grand shots, 
 better than my own ; and men have said I can 
 shoot like the devil ha ! ha ! " He chuckled to 
 himself noiselessly, and said in a whisper : " Twenty 
 grizzlies, and fifty pumas ! " 
 
 Then he rubbed his hands softly on his knees, 
 and spoke aloud again : " /', I was proud of him.
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 273 
 
 We were standing together on a ledge of rock. 
 Gawdor was not far away. Gawdor was a poor 
 hunter, and I knew he was wild at Gordineer's 
 great luck. ... A splendid bull-wapiti come out 
 on a rock across the gully. It was a long shot. 
 I did not think Gordineer could make it: I was 
 not sure that I could the wind was blowing and 
 the range was long. But he draw up his gun 
 like lightning, and fire all at once. The bull 
 dropped clean over the cliff, and tumbled dead 
 upon the rocks below. It was fine. But, then, 
 Gordineer slung his gun under his arm, and say : 
 ' That is enough. I am going to the hut' 
 
 " He went away. That night he did not talk. 
 The next morning, when I say, ' We will be off 
 again to the pass,' he shake his head. He would 
 not go. He would shoot no more, he said. I 
 understood : it was the girl. He was wide awake 
 at last. Gawdor understanded also. He know that 
 Gordineer would go to the south to her. I was 
 sorry ; but it was no use. Gawdor went with me 
 to the pass. When we come back, Jo was gone 
 On a bit of birch-bark he had put where he was 
 going, and the way he would take. He said he 
 would come back to me ah, the brave comrade ! 
 Gawdor say nothing, but his looks were black. 
 I had a feeling. I sat up all night, smoking. I was 
 not afraid, but I know Gawdor had found the valley 
 of gold, and he might put a knife in me, because 
 18
 
 274 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 to know of such a thing alone is fine. Just at dawn, 
 he got up and go out. He did not come back. I 
 waited, and at last went to the pass. In the after- 
 noon, just as I was rounding the corner of a 
 cliff, there was a shot then another. The first 
 went by my head ; the second caught me along 
 the ribs, but not to great hurt. Still, I fell from 
 the shock, and lost some blood. It was Gawdor ; 
 he thought he had killed me. 
 
 " When I come to myself I bound up the little 
 furrow in the flesh, and start away. I know 
 that Gawdor would follow Gordineer. I follow 
 him, knowing the way he must take. I have 
 never forget the next night. I had to travel hard, 
 and I track him by his fires and other things. 
 When sunset come, I do not stop. I was in a 
 valley, and I push on. There was a little moon. 
 At last I saw a light ahead a camp-fire, I know. 
 I was weak, and could have dropped ; but a dread 
 was on me. I come to the fire. I saw a man 
 lying near it Just as I saw him, he was trying to 
 rise. But, as he did so, something sprang out of 
 the shadow upon him, at his throat. I saw him 
 raise his hand, and strike it with a knife. The 
 thing let go, and then I fire but only scratched, 
 I think. It was a puma. It sprang away again, 
 into the darkness. I ran to the man, and raised 
 him. It was my friend. He looked up at me and 
 shake his head. He was torn at the throat. But
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 275 
 
 there was something else a wound in the back. 
 He was stooping over the fire when he was 
 stabbed, and he fell. He saw that it was Gawdor. 
 He had been left for dead, as I was. Dear Lord ! 
 just when I come and could have save him, the 
 puma come also. It is the best men who have 
 such luck. I have seen it often. I used to 
 wonder they did not curse God." 
 
 He crossed himself and mumbled something. 
 Lawless rose, and walked up and down the room 
 once or twice, pulling at his beard and frowning. 
 His eyes were wet Shon kept blowing into his 
 closed hand and blinking at the fire. Pourcctte 
 got up and took down the gun from the chimney. 
 He brushed off the dust with his coat-sleeve, and 
 fondled it, shaking his head at it a little. As he 
 began to speak again, Lawless sat down. 
 
 " Now I know why they do not curse. Some- 
 thing curses for them. Jo gave me a word for her, 
 and say : ' Well, it is all right ; but I wish I had 
 killed the puma.' There was nothing more. ... I 
 followed Gawdor for days. I know that he would 
 go and get someone, and go back to the gold. I 
 thought at last I had missed him ; but no. I 
 had made up my mind what to do when I found 
 him. One night, just as the moon was showing 
 over the hills, I come upon him. I was quiet as a 
 puma. I have a stout cord in my pocket, and 
 another about my body. Just as he was stooping
 
 276 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 over the fire, as Gordineer did, I sprang upon him, 
 clasping him about the neck, and bringing him to 
 the ground. He could not get me off. I am small, 
 but I have a grip. Then, too, I had one hand at 
 his throat. It was no use to struggle. The cord 
 and a knife were in my teeth. It was a great trick, 
 but his breath was well gone, and I fastened his 
 hands. It was no use to struggle. I tied his 
 feet and legs. Then I carried him to a tree and 
 bound him tight. I unfastened his hands again 
 and tied them round the tree. Then I built a great 
 fire not far away. He begged at first and cried. 
 But I was hard. He got wild, and at last when I 
 leave him he cursed ! It was like nothing I ever 
 heard. He was a devil. ... I come back after I 
 have carry the message to the poor girl it is a sad 
 thing to see the first great grief of the young ! 
 Gawdor was not there. The pumas and others had 
 been with him. 
 
 " There was more to do. I wanted to kill that 
 puma which set its teeth in the throat of my friend. 
 I hunted the woods where it had happened, beating 
 everywhere, thinking that, perhaps, it was dead. 
 There was not much blood on the leaves, so I 
 guessed that it had not died. I hunted from 
 that spot, and killed many many. I saw that 
 they began to move north. At last I got back 
 here. From here I have hunted and killed them 
 slow; but never that one with a wound in the
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 277 
 
 shoulder from Jo's knife. Still, I can wait There 
 is nothing like patience for the hunter and for the 
 man who would have blood for blood." 
 
 He paused, and Lawless spoke. "And when- you 
 have killed that puma, Pourcette if you ever do 
 what then ? " 
 
 Pourcette fondled the gun, then rose and hung it 
 up again before he replied. 
 
 " Then I will go to Fort St. John, to the girl 
 she is there with her father and sell all the skins 
 to the factor, and give her the money." He waved 
 his hand round the room. " There are many skins 
 here, but I have more cached not far away. Once 
 a year I go to the Fort for flour and bullets. A 
 dog-team and a bois-briiti bring them, and then I 
 am alone as before. When all that is done I will 
 come back." 
 
 "And then, Pourcette?" said Shon. 
 
 " Then I will hang that one skin over the chimney 
 where his gun is and go out and kill more pumas. 
 What else can one do ? When I stop killing I shall 
 be killed. A million pumas and their skins are 
 not worth the life of my friend." 
 
 Lawless looked round the room, at the wooden 
 cup, the gun, the bloodstained clothes on the wall, 
 and the skins. He got up, came over, and touched 
 Pourcette on the shoulder. 
 
 "Little man," he said, "give it up, and come 
 with me. Come to Fort St. John, sell the skins,
 
 278 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 give the money to the girl, and then let us travel to 
 the Barren Grounds together, and from there to the 
 south country again. You will go mad up here. 
 You have killed enough Gawdor and many pumas. 
 If Jo could speak, he would say, Give it up. I 
 knew Jo. He was my good friend before he was 
 yours mine and M'Gann's here and we searched 
 for him to travel with us. He would have done so, 
 I think, for we had sport and trouble of one kind 
 and another together. And he would have asked 
 you to come also. Well, do so, little man. We 
 haven't told you our names. I am Sir Duke Law- 
 less, and this is Shon M'Gann." 
 
 Pourcette nodded : " I do not know how it come 
 to me, but I was sure from the first you are his 
 friends. He speak often of you and of two others 
 where are they ? " 
 
 Lawless replied, and, at the name of Pretty 
 Pierre, Shon hid his forehead in his hand, in a 
 troubled way. 
 
 " And you will come with us," said Lawless, 
 " away from this loneliness ? " 
 
 " It is not lonely," was the reply. " To hear the 
 thrum of the pigeon, the whistle of the hawk, the 
 chatter of the black squirrel, and the long cry of 
 the eagle, is not lonely. Then, there is the river 
 and the pines all music ; and for what the eye 
 sees, God has been good ; and to kill pumas is my 
 joy. So, I cannot go. Thee hills are mine*
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 279 
 
 Few strangers come, and none stop but me. Still, 
 to-morrow or any day, I will show you the way to the 
 valley where the gold is. Perhaps riches is there, 
 perhaps not, you shall find." 
 
 Lawless saw that it was no use to press the 
 matter. The old man had but one idea, and nothing 
 could ever change it. Solitude fixes our hearts 
 immovably on things call it madness, what you 
 will. In busy life we have no real or lasting 
 dreams, no ideals. We have to go to the primeval 
 hills and the wild plains for them. When we leave 
 the hills and the plains, we lose them again. Shon 
 was, however, for the valley of gold. He was a 
 poor man, and it would be a joyful thing for him 
 if one day he could empty ample gold into his 
 wife's lap. Lawless was not greedy, but he and 
 good gold were not at variance. 
 
 "See," said Shon, "the valley's the thing. We 
 can hunt as we go, and if there's gold for the 
 scrapin', why, there y'are fill up and come again. 
 If not, divil the harm done. So here's thumbs up 
 to go, say I. But I wish, Lawless, I wish that I'd 
 niver known how Jo wint off, an' I wish we were all 
 t'gither agin, as down in the Pipi Valley." 
 
 "There's nothing stands in this world, Shon, but 
 the faith of comrades and the truth of good women. 
 The rest hangs by a hair. I'll go to the valley 
 with you. It's many a day since I washed my 
 luck in a gold-pan."
 
 280 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " I will take you there," said Pourcette, suddenly 
 rising, and, with shy abrupt motions, grasping their 
 hands and immediately letting them go again. " I 
 will take you to-morrow." Then he spread skins 
 upon the floor, put wood upon the fire, and the 
 three were soon asleep. 
 
 The next morning, just as the sun came labori- 
 ously over the white peak of a mountain, and 
 looked down into the great gulch beneath the hut, 
 the three started. For many hours they crept along 
 the side of the mountain, then came slowly down 
 upon pine-crested hills, and over to where a small 
 plain stretched out. It was Pourcette's little farm. 
 Its position was such that it caught the sun always, 
 and was protected from the north and east winds. 
 Tall shafts of Indian corn with their yellow tassels 
 were still standing, and the stubble of the field 
 where the sickle had been, showed in the distance 
 like a carpet of gold. It seemed strange to Lawless 
 that this old man beside him should be thus peace- 
 ful in his habits, the most primitive and arcadian of 
 farmers, and yet one whose trade was blood 
 whose one purpose in life was destruction and 
 vengeance. 
 
 They pushed on. Towards the end of the day 
 they came upon a little herd of caribou, and had 
 excellent sport. Lawless noticed that Pourcette 
 seemed scarcely to take any aim at all, so swift 
 and decisive was his handling of the gun. They
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 281 
 
 skinned the deer and cached them, and took up 
 the. journey again. For four days they travelled 
 and hunted alternately. Pourcette had shot two 
 mountain lions, but they had seen no pumas. 
 
 On the morning of the fifth day they came upon 
 the valley where the gold was. There was no 
 doubt about it. A beautiful little stream ran 
 through it, and its bed was sprinkled with gold 
 a goodly sight to a poor man like Shon, interesting 
 enough to Lawless. For days, while Lawless and 
 Pourcette hunted, Shon laboured like a galley- 
 slave, making the little specks into piles, and now 
 and again crowning a pile with a nugget. The 
 fever of the hunter had passed from him, and 
 another fever was on him. The others urged 
 him to come away. The winter would soon be 
 hard on them ; he must go, and he and Lawless 
 would return in the spring. 
 
 Prevailing on him at last, they, started back to 
 Clear Mountain. The first day Shon was abstracted 
 He carried the gold he had gathered in a bag 
 wound about his body. It was heavy, and he could 
 not travel fast. One morning, Pourcette, who had 
 been off in the hills, came to say that he hat' 
 sighted a little herd of wapiti. Shon had faller 
 and sprained his arm the evening before (gold i; 
 heavy to carry), and he did not go with the others 
 He stayed and dreamed of his good fortune, and of 
 his home. In the late afternoon he lay down in
 
 282 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 the sun beside the camp-fire, and fell asleep from 
 much thinking. Lawless and Pourcette had little 
 success. The herd had gone before they arrived. 
 They beat the hills, and turned back to camp at last, 
 without fret, like good sportsmen. At a point they 
 separated, to come down upon the camp at different 
 angles, in the hope of still getting a shot. The 
 camp lay exposed upon a platform of the mountain. 
 
 Lawless came out upon a ledge of rock opposite 
 the camp, a gulch lying between. He looked across. 
 He was in the shadow, the other wall of the gulch 
 was in the sun. The air was incomparably clear 
 and fresh, with an autumnal freshness. Everything 
 stood out distinct and sharply outlined, nothing 
 flat or blurred. He saw the camp, and the fire, 
 with the smoke quivering up in a diffusing blue 
 column, Shon lying beside it. He leaned upon his 
 rifle musingly. The shadows of the pines were 
 blue and cold, but the tops of them were burnished 
 with the cordial sun, and a glacier-field, somehow, 
 took on a rose and violet light, reflected, maybe, 
 from the soft-corn plexioned sky. He drew in a long 
 breath of delight, and widened his line of vision. 
 
 Suddenly, something he saw made him lurch 
 backward. At an angle in almost equal distance 
 from him and Shon, upon a small peninsula of 
 rock, a strange thing was happening. Old Pour- 
 cette was kneeling, engaged with his moccasin. 
 Behind him was the sun, against which he was
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 283 
 
 abruptly defined, looking larger than usual. Clear 
 space and air soft with colour were about him. 
 Across this space, on a little sloping plateau near 
 him, there crept an animal. It seemed to Lawless 
 that he could see the lithe stealthiness of its muscles 
 and the ripple of its skin. But that was imagina- 
 tion, because he was too far away. He cried out, 
 and swung his gun shoulderwards in desperation. 
 But, at the moment, Pourcette turned sharply round, 
 saw his danger, caught his gun, and fired as the 
 puma sprang. There had been no chance for aim, 
 and the beast was only wounded. It dropped upon 
 the man. He let the gun fall; it rolled and fell 
 over the cliff. Then came a scene, wicked in its 
 peril to Pourcette, for whom no aid could come, 
 though two men stood watching the great fight 
 Shon M'Gann, awake now, and Lawless with 
 their guns silent in their hands. They dare not 
 fire, for fear of injuring the man, a id they could 
 not reach him in time to be of help. 
 
 There against the weird solitary sky the man and 
 the puma fought. When the animal dropped on 
 him, Pourcette caught it by the throat with both 
 hands, and held back its fangs ; but its claws were 
 furrowing the flesh of his breast and legs. His 
 long arms were of immense strength, and though 
 the pain of his torn flesh was reat, he struggled 
 grandly with the beast, and bore it away from his 
 body. As he did so he slightly changed the
 
 284 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 position of one hand. It came upon a welt a 
 scar. When he felt that, new courage and strength 
 seemed given him. He gave a low growl like an 
 animal, and then, letting go one hand, caught at 
 the knife in his belt As he did so the puma 
 sprang away from him, and crouched upon the 
 rock, making ready for another leap. Lawless and 
 Shon could see its tail curving and beating. But 
 now, to their astonishment, the man was the 
 aggressor. He was filled with a fury which knows 
 nothing of fear. The welt his fingers had felt 
 burned them. 
 
 He came slowly upon the puma. Lawless could 
 see the hard glitter of his knife. The puma's teeth 
 sawed together, its claws picked at the rocks, its 
 body curved for a spring. The man sprang first, 
 and ran the knife in ; but not into a mortal corner. 
 Once more they locked. The man's fingers were 
 again at the puma's throat, and they swayed to- 
 gether, the claws of the beast making surface 
 havoc. But now as they stood up, to the eyes of 
 the fearful watchers inextricably mixed, the man 
 lunged again with his knife, and this time straight 
 into the heart of the murderer. The puma loosened, 
 quivered, fell back dead. The man rose to his feet 
 with a cry, and his hands stretched above his head, 
 as it were in a kind of ecstasy. Shon forgot his 
 gold and ran ; Lawless hurried also. 
 
 When the two men got to the spot they found
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 285 
 
 Pourcette binding up his wounds. He came to 
 his feet, heedless of his hurts, and grasped their 
 hands. "Come, come, my friends, and see," he 
 cried. 
 
 He pulled forward the loose skin on the puma's 
 breast and showed them the scar of a knife-wound 
 above the one his own knife had made. 
 
 " I've got the other murderer," he said ; " Gordi- 
 neer's knife went in here. God, but it is good ! " 
 
 Pourcette's flesh needed little medicine ; he did 
 not feel his pain and stiffness. When they reached 
 Clear Mountain, bringing with them the skin which 
 was to hang above the fireplace, Pourcette pre- 
 pared to go to Fort St. John, as he had said he 
 would, to sell all the skins and give the proceeds 
 to the girl. 
 
 " When that's done," said Lawless, " you will 
 have no reason for staying here. If you will come 
 with us after, we will go to the Fort with you. We 
 three will then come back in the spring to the 
 valley of gold for sport and riches." 
 
 He spoke lightly, yet seriously too. The old 
 man shook his head. " I have thought," he said. 
 " I cannot go to the south. I am a hunter now, 
 nothing more. I have been long alone ; I do not 
 wish for change. I shall remain at Clear Mountain 
 when these skins have gone to Fort St. John, and 
 if you come to me in the spring or at any time, 
 my door will open to you, and I will share all with
 
 286 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 you. Gordineer was a good man. You are good 
 men. I'll remember you, but I can't go with you 
 no. Some day you would leave me to go to the 
 women who wait for you, and then I should be 
 alone again. I will not change vraiment !" 
 
 On the morning they left, he took Jo Gordineer's 
 cup from the shelf, and from a hidden place brought 
 out a flask half rilled with liquor. He poured out 
 a little in the cup gravely, and handed it to Lawless, 
 but Lawless gave it back to him. 
 
 "You must drink from it," he said, "not me." 
 
 He held out the cup of his own flask. When 
 each of the three had a share, the old man raised 
 his long arm solemnly, and said in a tone so gentle 
 that the others hardly recognised his voice : " To 
 a lost comrade ! " They drank in silence. 
 
 "A little gentleman!" said Lawless, under his 
 breath. 
 
 When they were ready to start, Lawless said to 
 him at the last : " What will you do here, comrade, 
 as the days go on ? " 
 
 " There are pumas in the mountains," he replied. 
 
 They parted from him upon the ledge where the 
 great fight had occurred, and travelled into the 
 east. Turning many times, they saw him still 
 standing there. At a point where they must lose 
 sight of him, they looked for the last time. He 
 was alone with his solitary hills, leaning on his 
 rifle. They fired two shots into the air. They
 
 THE SPOIL OF THE PUMA 287 
 
 saw him raise his rifle, and two faint reports came 
 in reply. He became again immovable : as much 
 a part of those hills as the shining glacier ; never 
 to leave them. 
 
 In silence the two rounded the cliff, and saw 
 him no mors.
 
 The Trail of the Sun Dogs 
 
 " \ ~\ T ELL, you see," said Jacques Parfaite, as 
 V V he gave Whiskey Wine, the leading 
 dog, a cut with the whip and twisted his patois 
 to the uses of narrative, " he has been alone there 
 at the old Fort for a long time. I remember 
 when I first see him. It was in the summer. 
 The world smell sweet if you looked this way or 
 that. If you drew in your breath quick from the 
 top of a hill you felt a great man. Ridley, the 
 chief trader, and myself have come to the Fort on 
 our way to the Mackenzie River. In the yard of 
 the Fort the grass have grown tall, and sprung 
 in the cracks under the doors and windows; the 
 Fort have not been used for a long time. Once 
 there was plenty of buffalo near, and the caribou 
 sometimes ; but they were all gone only a few. 
 The Indians never went that way, only when the 
 seasons were the best. The Company have closed 
 the Post ; it did not pay. Still, it was pleasant 
 after a long tramp to come to even an empty fort. 
 We know dam' well there is food buried in the 
 yard or under the floor, and it would be droll
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUN DOGS 289 
 
 to open the place for a day Lost Man's Tavern, 
 we called it. Well" 
 
 " Well, what ? " said Sir Duke Lawless, who had 
 travelled up to the Barren Grounds for the sake of 
 adventure and game; and, with his old friend, 
 Shon M'Gann, had trusted himself to the excellent 
 care of Jacques Parfaite, the half-breed. 
 
 Jacques cocked his head on one side and shook 
 it wisely and mysteriously. " Tres bien, we trailed 
 through the long grass, pried open the shutters and 
 door, and went in. It is cool in the north of an 
 evening, as you know. We build a fire, and soon 
 there is very fine times. Ridley pried up the 
 floor, and we found good things. Holy! but it 
 was a feast. We had a little rum also. As we 
 talk and a great laugh swim round, there come a 
 noise behind us like shuffling feet. We got to our 
 legs quick. Mon Dieu, a strange sight ! A man 
 stand looking at us with something in his face that 
 make my fingers cold all at once a look well, 
 you would think it was carved in stone it never 
 changed. Once I was at Fort Garry ; the Church 
 of St. Mary is there. They have a picture in it of 
 the great scoundrel Judas as he went to hang 
 himself. Judas was a fool what was thirty 
 dollars ! you give me hunder' to take you to the 
 Barren Grounds. Pah ! " 
 
 The half-breed chuckled, shook his head sagely, 
 swore half-way through his vocabulary at Whiskey 
 '9
 
 290 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Wine, gratefully received a pipe of tobacco from 
 Shon M'Gann, and continued : " He come in on us 
 slow and still, and push out long thin hands, the 
 fingers bent like claws, towards the pot. He was 
 starving. Yes, it was so ; but I nearly laughed. 
 It was spring a man is a fool to starve in the 
 spring. But he was differen'. There was a cause. 
 The factor give him soup from the pot and a 
 little rum. He was mad for meat, but that would 
 have killed him. He did not look at you like a 
 man. When you are starving, you are an animal. 
 But there was something more with this. He 
 made the flesh creep, he was so thin, and strange, 
 and sulky eh, is that a word when the face looks 
 dark and never smiles? So. He would not talk. 
 When we ask him where he come from, he points 
 to the north ; when we ask him where he is going, 
 he shake his head as he not know. A man is mad 
 not to know where he travel to up here ; something 
 comes quick to him unless, and it is not good to 
 die too soon. The trader said, 'Come with us.' 
 He shake his head, No. 'P'r'aps you want to 
 stay here,' said Ridley loud, showing his teeth all 
 in a minute. He nod. Then the trader laugh 
 thick in his throat and give him more soup. After, 
 he try to make the man talk ; but he was stubborn 
 like that dirty Whiskey Wine ah, sacre bleu /" 
 
 Whiskey Wine had his usual portion of whip and 
 anathema before Jacques again took up the thread.
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUN DOGS 291 
 
 " It was no use. He would not talk. When the 
 trader got angry once more, he turned to me, and 
 the look in his face make me sorry. I swore 
 Ridley did not mind that, I was thick friends with 
 him. I say, ' Keep still. It is no good. He has 
 had bad times. He has been lost, and seen mad 
 things. He will never be again like when God 
 make him.' Very well, I spoke true. He was like 
 a sun dog." 
 
 " What's that ye say, Parfaite ? " said Shon "a 
 sun dog?" 
 
 Sir Duke Lawless, puzzled, listened eagerly for 
 the reply. 
 
 The half-breed in delight ran before them, crack- 
 ing his whip and jingling the bells at his knees. 
 "Ah, that's it. It is a name we have for some. 
 You do not know ? It is easy. In the high-up 
 country" pointing north "you see sometimes 
 many suns. But it is not many after all ; it is only 
 one; and the rest are the same as your face in 
 looking-glasses one, two, three, plenty. You see ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Sir Duke, " reflections of the real 
 sun." 
 
 Parfaite tapped him on the arm. " So : you have 
 the thing. WeH, this man is not himself he 
 have left himself where he seen his bad times. It 
 makes your flesh creep sometimes when you see 
 the sun dogs in the sky this man did the same. 
 You shall see him to night ! "
 
 292 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Sir Duke looked at the little half-breed, and 
 wondered that the product of so crude a civilisation 
 should be so little crude in his imagination. "What 
 happened?" he asked. 
 
 " Nothing happened. But the man could not 
 sleep. He sit before the fire, his eyes moving here 
 and there, and sometimes he shiver. Well, I 
 watch him. In the morning we leave him there, 
 and he has been there ever since the only man at 
 the Fort. The Indians do not go ; they fear him ; 
 but there is no harm in him. He is old now. In 
 an hour we'll be there." 
 
 The sun was hanging, with one shoulder up like 
 a great red peering dwarf, on the far side of a long 
 hillock of stunted pines, when the three arrived at the 
 Fort The yard was still as Parfaite had described 
 it full of rank grass, through which one path trailed 
 to the open door. On the stockade walls grass 
 grew, as though where men will not live like men 
 Nature labours to smother. The shutters of the 
 window were not open ; light only entered through 
 narrow openings in them, made for the needs of 
 possible attacks by Indians in the far past. One 
 would have sworn that anyone dwelling there was 
 more like the dead than the living. Yet it had, 
 too, something of the peace of the lonely graveyard. 
 There was no one in the Fort ; but there were signs 
 of life skins piled here and there, a few utensils, a 
 bench, a hammock for food swung from the rafters,
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUN DOGS 293 
 
 a low fire burning in the chimney, and a rude spear 
 stretched on the wall. 
 
 " Sure, the place gives you shivers ! " said Shon. 
 " Open go these windows. Put wood on the fire, 
 Parfaite ; cook the meat that we've brought, and no 
 other, me boy ; and whin we're filled wid a meal 
 and the love o' God, bring in your Lost Man, or 
 Sun Dog, or whativer's he by name or nature." 
 
 While Parfaite and Shon busied themselves, 
 Lawless wandered out with his gun, and, drawn on 
 by the clear joyous air of the evening, walked along 
 a path made by the same feet that had travelled the 
 yard of the Fort. He followed it almost uncon- 
 sciously at first, thinking of the strange histories 
 that the far north hoards in its fastnesses, wonder- 
 ing what singular fate had driven the host of this 
 secluded tavern farthest from the pleasant south 
 country, nearest to the Pole to stand, as it were, 
 a sentinel at the raw outposts of the world. He 
 looked down at the trail where he was walking 
 with a kind of awe, which even his cheerful common 
 sense could not dismiss. 
 
 He came to the top of a ridge on which were a 
 handful of meagre trees. Leaning on his gun, he 
 looked straight away into the farthest distance. 
 On the left was a blurred edge of pines, with tops 
 like ungainly tendrils feeling for the sky. On the 
 right was a long bare stretch of hills veiled in the 
 thin smoke of the evening, and between, straight
 
 294 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 before him, was a wide lane of unknown country, 
 billowing away to where it froze into the vast 
 archipelago that closes with the summit of the 
 world. He experienced now that weird charm 
 which has drawn so many into Arctic wilds and 
 gathered the eyes of millions longingly. Wife, 
 child, London, civilisation, were forgotten for the 
 moment He was under a spell which, once felt, 
 lingers in your veins always. 
 
 At length his look drew away from the glimmer- 
 ing distance, and he suddenly became conscious 
 of human presence. Here, almost at his feet, was 
 a man, also looking out along that slumbering 
 waste. He was dressed in skins, his arms were 
 folded across his breast, his chin bent low, and he 
 gazed up and out from deep eyes shadowed by 
 strong brows. Lawless saw the shoulders of the 
 watcher heave and shake once or twice, and then a 
 voice with a deep aching trouble in it spoke ; but 
 at first he could catch no words. Presently, how- 
 ever, he heard distinctly, for the man raised his 
 hands high above his head, and the words fell 
 painfully: "Am I my brother's keeper?" 
 
 Then a low harsh laugh came from him, and 
 he was silent again. Lawless did not move. 
 At last the man turned round, and, seeing him 
 standing motionless, his gun in his hands, he gave 
 a hoarse cry. Then he stood still. "If you have 
 come to kill, do not wait," he said ; " I am ready."
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUN DOGS 295 
 
 At the sound of Lawless's reassuring voice he 
 recovered, and began, in stumbling words, to 
 excuse himself. His face was as Jacques Parfaite 
 had described it : trouble of some terrible kind was 
 furrowed in it, and, though his body was stalwart, 
 he looked as if he had lived a century. His eyes 
 dwelt on Sir Duke Lawless for a moment, and then, 
 coming nearer, he said, " You are an Englishman ? " 
 
 Lawless held out his hand in greeting, yet he 
 was not sorry when the other replied : " The hand 
 of no man in greeting. Are you alone ? " 
 
 When he had been told, he turned towards the 
 Fort, and silently they made their way to it. At 
 the door he turned and said to Lawless, " My name 
 to you is Detmold." 
 
 The greeting between Jacques and his sombre 
 host was notable for its extreme brevity; with 
 Shon M'Gann for its hesitation Shon's impression- 
 able Irish nature was awed by the look of the man, 
 though he had seen some strange things in the 
 north. Darkness was on them by this time, and 
 the host lighted bowls of fat with wicks of deer's 
 tendons, and by the light of these and the fire they 
 ate their supper. Parfaite beguiled the evening 
 with tales of the north, always interesting to 
 Lawless ; to which Shon added many a shrewd 
 word of humour lor he had recovered quickly from 
 his first timidity in the presence of the stranger. 
 
 As time went on Jacques saw that their host's
 
 296 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 eyes were frequently fixed on Sir Duke in a half- 
 eager, musing way, and he got Shon away to bed 
 and left the two together. 
 
 "You are a singular man. Why do you live 
 here?" said Lawless. Then he went straight to 
 the heart of the thing. " What trouble have you 
 had, of what crime are you guilty ? " 
 
 The man rose to his feet, shaking, and walked to 
 and fro in the room for a time, more than once 
 trying to speak, but failing. He beckoned to Law- 
 less, and opened the door. Lawless took his hat 
 and followed him along the trail they had travelled 
 before supper until they came to the ridge where 
 they had met. The man faced the north, the moon 
 glistening coldly on his grey hair. He spoke with 
 incredible weight and slowness : 
 
 " I tell you for you are one who understands 
 men, and you come from a life that I once knew 
 well. I know of your people. I was of good 
 family" 
 
 " I know the name," said Sir Duke quietly, at the 
 same time fumbling in his memory for flying bits 
 of gossip and history which he could not instantly 
 find. 
 
 " There were two brothers of us. I was the 
 younger. A ship was going to the Arctic Sea." 
 He pointed into the north. "We were both young 
 and ambitious. He was in the army, I the 
 navy. We went with the expedition. At first it
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SUN DOGS 297 
 
 was all beautiful and grand, and it seemed noble 
 to search for those others who had gone into that 
 land and never come back. But our ship got 
 locked in the ice, and then came great trouble. A 
 year went by and we did not get free; then 
 another year began. . . . Four of us set out for the 
 south. Two died. My brother and I were left " 
 
 Lawless exclaimed. He now remembered how 
 general sympathy went out to a well-known county 
 family when it was announced that two of its 
 members were lost in the Arctic regions. 
 
 Detmold continued : " I was the stronger. He 
 grew weaker and weaker. It was awful to live 
 those days : the endless snow and cold, the long 
 nights when you could only hear the whirring of 
 meteors, the bright sun which did not warm you, 
 not even when many suns, the reflections of itself, 
 followed it the mocking sun dogs, no more the 
 sun than I am what my mother brought into the 
 world. . . . We walked like dumb men, for the 
 dreadful cold fills the heart with bitterness. I 
 think I grew to hate him because he could not 
 travel faster, that days were lost, and death crept 
 on so pitilessly. Sometimes I had a mad wish to 
 kill him. May you never know suffering that 
 begets such things ! I laughed as I sat beside him, 
 and saw him sink to sleep and die. ... I think I 
 could have saved him. When he was gone I 
 what do men do sometimes when starvation is on
 
 298 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 them, and they have a hunger of hell to live ? I 
 did that shameless thing and he was my brother ! 
 ... I lived, and was saved." 
 
 Lawless shrank away from the man, but words 
 of horror got no farther than his throat And he 
 was glad afterwards that it was so ; for when he 
 looked again at this woeful relic of humanity before 
 him he felt a strange pity. 
 
 " God's hand is on me to punish," said the man. 
 " It will never be lifted. Death were easy : I bear 
 the infamy of living." 
 
 Lawless reached out and caught him gently by 
 the shoulders. "Poor fellow ! poor Detmold ! " he 
 said. 
 
 For an instant the sorrowful face lighted, the 
 square chin trembled, and the hands thrust out 
 towards Lawless, but suddenly dropped. 
 
 " Go," he said humbly, " and leave me here. We 
 must not meet again. ... I have had one moment 
 of respite. . . . Go." 
 
 Without a word, Lawless turned and made his 
 way to the Fort. In the morning the three com- 
 rades started on their journey again ; but no one 
 sped them on their way, or watched them as they 
 went.
 
 The Pilot of Belle Amour 
 
 HE lived in a hut on a jutting crag of the 
 Cliff of the King. You could get to it by 
 a hard climb up a precipitous pathway, or by a 
 ladder of ropes which swung from his cottage door 
 down the cliff-side to the sands. The bay that 
 washed the sands was called Belle Amour. The 
 cliff was huge, sombre ; it had a terrible granite 
 moroseness. If you travelled back from its edge 
 until you stood within the very heart of Labrador, 
 you would add step upon step of barrenness and 
 austerity. 
 
 Only at seasons did the bay share the gloom of 
 the cliff. When out of its shadow it was, in 
 summer, very bright and playful, sometimes bois- 
 terous, often idle, coquetting with the sands. 
 There was a great difference between the cliff and 
 the bay ; the cliff was only as it appeared, but the 
 bay was a shameless hypocrite. For under one 
 shoulder it hid a range of reefs, and, at a spot 
 where the shadows of the cliff never reached it, 
 and the sun played with a grim kind of joy, a long 
 needle of rock ran up at an angle under the water 
 
 299
 
 300 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 waiting to pierce irresistibly the adventurous ship 
 that, in some mad moment, should creep to its 
 shores. 
 
 The man was more like the cliff than the bay : 
 stern, powerful, brooding. His only companions 
 were the Indians, who in summer-time came and 
 went, getting stores of him, which he in turn got 
 from a post of the Hudson's Bay Company, seventy 
 miles up the coast. At one time the Company, 
 impressed by the number of skins brought to them 
 by the pilot, and the stores he bought of them, 
 had thought of establishing a post at Belle Amour; 
 but they saw that his dealings with them were fair 
 and that he had small gain, and they decided to 
 use him as an unofficial agent, and reap what 
 profit was to be had as 'things stood. Kenyon, 
 the Company's agent, who had the Post, was keen 
 to know why Gaspard the pilot lived at Belle 
 Amour. No white man sojourned near him, and 
 he saw no one save now and then a priest who 
 travelled silently among the Indians, or some 
 fisherman, hunter, or woodsman, who, for pleasure 
 or from pure adventure, ran into the bay and 
 tasted the hospitality tucked away on a ledge of 
 the Cliff of the King. 
 
 To Kenyon, Gaspard was unresponsive, however 
 adroit the catechism. Father Corraine also, who 
 sometimes stepped across the dark threshold of 
 Gaspard's hut, would have, for the man's soul's
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 301 
 
 sake, dug out the heart of his secret ; but Gaspard, 
 open with food, fire, blanket, and tireless attend- 
 ance, closed like the doors of a dungeon when the 
 priest would have read him. At the name of good 
 Ste. Anne he would make the sacred gesture, and 
 would take a blessing when the priest passed from 
 his hut to go again into the wilds; but when 
 pressed to disclose his mind and history, he would 
 always say: "M'sieu', I have nothing to con- 
 fess." After a number of years the priest ceased 
 to ask him, and he remained with the secret of his 
 life, inscrutable and silent. 
 
 Being vigilant, one would have seen, however, 
 that he lived in some land of memory or anticipa- 
 tion, beyond his life of daily toil and usual dealing. 
 The hut seemed to have been built at a point where 
 east and west and south the great gulf could be 
 seen and watched. It seemed almost ludicrous that 
 a man should call himself a pilot on a coast and 
 at a bay where a pilot was scarce needed once a 
 year. But he was known as Gaspard the pilot, 
 and on those rare occasions when a vessel did 
 anchor in the bay, he performed his duties with 
 such a certainty as to leave unguessed how many 
 death-traps crouched near that shore. At such 
 times, however, Gaspard seemed to look twenty years 
 younger, a light would come into his face, a stal- 
 wart kind of pride sit on him, though beneath there 
 lurked a strange, sardonic look in his deep eyes,
 
 302 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 such a grim furtiveness as though he should say 
 " If I but twist my finger we are all for the fishes." 
 But he kept his secret and waited. He never 
 seemed to tire of looking down the gulf, as though 
 expecting some ship. If one appeared and passed 
 on, he merely nodded his head, hung up his glass, 
 returned to his work, or, sitting by the door, 
 talked to himself in low, strange tones. If one 
 came near, making as if it would enter the bay, 
 a hungry joy possessed him. If a storm was on, 
 the joy was the greater. No pilot ever ventured 
 to a ship on such rough seas as Gaspard ventured 
 for small profit or glory. 
 
 Behind it all lay his secret. There came one 
 day a man who discovered it. 
 
 It was Pierre, the half-breed adventurer. There 
 was no 'point in all the wild northland which 
 Pierre had not touched. He loved it as he loved 
 the game of life. He never said so of it, but he 
 never said so of the game of life, and' he played 
 it with a deep subterranean joy. He had had his 
 way with the musk-ox in the Arctic Circle ; with 
 the white bear at the foot of Alaskan Hills ; with 
 the seal in Baffin's Bay; with the puma on the 
 slope of the Pacific ; and now at last he had come 
 upon the trail of Labrador. Its sternness, its 
 moodiness pleased him. He smiled at it the 
 comprehending smile of the man who has fingered 
 the nerves and the heart of men and things. As
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 303 
 
 a traveller, wandering through a prison, looks 
 upon its grim cells and dungeons with the eye 
 of unembarrassed freedom, finding no direful signi- 
 ficance in the clank of its iron, so Pierre travelled 
 down with a handful of Indians through the hard 
 fastnesses of that country, and, at last, alone, came 
 upon the bay of Belle Amour. 
 
 There was in him some antique touch of refine- 
 ment and temperament which, in all his evil days 
 and deeds and moments of shy nobility, could find 
 its way into the souls of men with whom the world 
 had had an awkward hour. He was a man of 
 little speech, but he had that rare persuasive 
 penetration which unlocked the doors of trouble, 
 despair, and tragedy. Men who would never 
 have confessed to a priest confessed to him. In 
 his every fibre was the granite of the Indian 
 nature, that looked upon punishment with stoic 
 satisfaction. 
 
 * In the heart of Labrador he had heard of 
 Gaspard, and had travelled to that point in the 
 compass where he could find him. One day when 
 the sun was fighting hard to make a pathway of 
 light in front of Gaspard's hut, Pierre rounded a 
 corner of the cliff and fronted Gaspard as he sat 
 there, his eyes idling gloomily with the sea. They 
 said little to each other, in new lands hos- 
 pitality has not need of speech. When Gaspard 
 and Pierre looked each other in the eyes they
 
 304 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 knew that one word between them was as a 
 hundred with other men. The heart knows its 
 confessor, and the confessor knows the shadowed 
 eye that broods upon some ghostly secret ; and 
 when these are face to face there comes a merciless 
 concision of understanding. 
 
 " From where away ? " said Gaspard, as he 
 handed some tobacco to Pierre. 
 
 " From Hudson's Bay, down the Red Wolf 
 Plains, along the hills, across the coast country, 
 here." 
 
 " Why ? " Gaspard eyed Pierre's small kit with 
 curiosity ; then flung up a piercing, furtive look. 
 Pierre shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Adventure, adventure," he answered. " The 
 land" he pointed north, west, and east "is all 
 mine. I am the citizen of every village and every 
 camp of the great north." 
 
 The old man turned his head towards a spot up 
 the shore of Belle Amour, before he turned to 
 Pierre again, with a strange look, and said, "Where 
 do you go ? " 
 
 Pierre followed his gaze to that point in the 
 shore, felt the undercurrent of vague meaning in 
 his voice, guessed what was his cue, and said : 
 " Somewhere, sometime ; but now only Belle 
 Amour. I have had a long travel. I have fv.und 
 an open door. I will stay if you please eh ? 
 If you please?"
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 305 
 
 Gaspard brooded. " It is lonely," he said. 
 " This day it is all bright ; the sun shines and the 
 little gay waves crinkle to the shore. But, mon 
 Dieu ! sometimes it is all black and ugly with 
 storm. The waves come grinding, booming in 
 along the gridiron rocks " he smiled a grim smile 
 " break through the teeth of the reefs, and split 
 \vith a roar of hell upon the cliff. And all the 
 time, and all the time," his voice got low with a 
 kind of devilish joy, "there is a finger Jhu! you 
 should see that finger of the devil stretch up from 
 the bowels of the earth, waiting, waiting for some- 
 thing to come out of the storm. And then and 
 then you can hear a wild laugh come out of the 
 land, come up from the sea, come down from the 
 sky all waiting, waiting for something ! No, no, 
 you would not stay here." 
 
 Pierre looked again to that point in the shore 
 towards which Gaspard's eyes had been cast. The 
 sun was shining hard just then, and the stern, 
 sharp rocks, tumbling awkwardly back into the 
 waste behind, had an insolent harshness. Day 
 perched garishly there. Yet now and then the 
 staring light was broken by sudden and deep 
 shadows great fissures in the rocks and lanes 
 between. These gave Pierre a suggestion, though 
 why, he could not say. He knew that when men 
 live lives of patient, gloomy vigilance, they gener- 
 ally have something to watch and guard. Why 
 
 20
 
 306 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 should Gaspard remain here year after year? His 
 occupation was nominally a pilot in a bay rarely 
 touched by vessels, and then only for shelter. A 
 pilot need not take his daily life with such brooding 
 seriousness. In body he was like flexible metal, 
 all cord and muscle. He gave the impression of 
 bigness, though he was small in stature. Yet, as 
 Pierre studied him, he saw something that made 
 him guess the man had had about him one day a 
 woman, perhaps a child ; no man could carry that 
 look unless. If a woman has looked at you from 
 day to day, something of her, some reflection of 
 her face, passes to yours and stays there ; and if a 
 child has held your hand long, or hung about your 
 knees, it gives you a kind of gentle wariness as 
 you step about your home. 
 
 Pierre knew that a man will cherish with a deep, 
 eternal purpose a memory of a woman or a child, 
 when, no matter how compelling his cue to re- 
 member where a man is concerned, he will yield 
 it up in the end to time. Certain speculations 
 arranged themselves definitely in Pierre's mind: 
 there was a woman, maybe a child once ; there 
 was some sorrowful mystery about them ; there 
 was a point in the shore that had held the old 
 man's eyes strangely ; there was the bay with that 
 fantastic " finger of the devil " stretching up from 
 the bowels of the world. Behind the symbol lay 
 the Thing what was it ?
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 307 
 
 Long time he looked out upon the gulf, then his 
 eyes drew into the bay and stayed there, seeing 
 mechanically, as a hundred fancies went through 
 his mind. There were reefs of which the old man 
 had spoken. He could guess from the colour and 
 movement of the water where they were. The 
 finger of the devil was it not real? A finger of 
 rock, waiting as the old man said for what? 
 
 Gaspard touched his shoulder. He rose and 
 went with him into the gloomy cabin. They ate 
 and drank in silence. When the meal was finished 
 they sat smoking till night fell. Then the pilot lit 
 a fire, and drew his rough chair to the door. 
 Though it was only late summer, it was cold in 
 the shade of the cliff. Long time they sat. Now 
 and again Pierre intercepted the quick, elusive 
 glance of his silent host. Once the pilot took his 
 pipe from his mouth, and leaned his hands on his 
 knees as if about to speak. But he did not. 
 
 Pierre saw that the time was ripe for speech. 
 So he said, as though he knew something : " It is a 
 long time since it happened ? " 
 
 Gaspard, brooding, answered : " Yes, a long time 
 too long." Then, as if suddenly awakened to 
 the strangeness of the question, he added, in a 
 startled way : " What do you know ? tell me quick 
 what you know." 
 
 " I know nothing except what comes to me here, 
 pilot," he touched his forehead," but there is a
 
 308 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 thing I am not sure what. There was a woman 
 perhaps a child ; there is something on the shore ; 
 there is a hidden point of rock in the bay ; and 
 you are waiting for a ship for the ship, and it does 
 not come isn't that so?" 
 
 Gaspard got to his feet, and peered into Pierre's 
 immobile face. Their eyes met. 
 
 " Mon Dieu!" said the pilot, his hand catching 
 the smoke away from between them, "you are a 
 droll man ; you have a wonderful mind. You are 
 cold like ice, and still there is in you a look of fire." 
 
 " Sit down," answered Pierre quietly, " and tell 
 me all. Perhaps I could think it out little by little ; 
 but it might take too long and what is the good ? " 
 
 Slowly Gaspard obeyed. Both hands rested on 
 his knees, and he stared abstractedly into the fire. 
 Pierre thrust forward the tobacco-bag. His hand 
 lifted, took the tobacco, and then his eyes came 
 keenly to Pierre's. He was about to speak. 
 
 " Fill your pipe first," said the half-breed coolly. 
 
 The old man did so abstractedly. When the 
 pipe was lighted, Pierre said: "Now!" 
 
 " I have never told the story, never not even to 
 Pere Corraine. But I know, I have it here " he put 
 his hand to his forehead, as did Pierre " that you 
 will be silent 
 
 " She was fine to see. Her eyes were black 
 as beads ; and when she laugh it was all music. 
 I was so happy ! We lived on the island of the
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 309 
 
 Aux Coudres, far up there at Quebec. It was a 
 wild place. There were smugglers and others 
 there maybe pirates. But she was like a saint of 
 God among all. I was lucky man. I was pilot, 
 and took ships out to sea, and brought them in safe 
 up the gulf. It is not all easy, for there are mac 
 places. Once or twice when a wild storm was on 
 I could not land at Cap Martin, and was carried 
 out to sea and over to France. . . . Well, that was 
 not so bad; there was plenty to eat and drink, 
 nothing to do. But when I marry it was differen. 
 I was afraid of being carried away and leave my 
 wife the belle Mamette alone long time. You 
 see, I was young, and she was ver' beautiful." 
 
 He paused and caught his hand over his mouth 
 as though to stop a sound : the lines of his face 
 deepened. Presently he puffed his pipe so hard 
 that the smoke and the sparks hid him in a cloud 
 through which he spoke. "When the child was 
 born Holy Mother ! have you ever felt the hand 
 of your own child in yours, and looked at the 
 mother, as she lies there all pale and shining 
 between the quilts?" 
 
 He paused. Pierre's eyes dropped to the floor. 
 
 Gaspard continued: "Well, it is a great thing, 
 and the babe was born quick one day when we 
 were all alone. A thing like that gives you won- 
 der. Then I could not bear to go away with the 
 ships, and at last I said,' One month, and then
 
 3io AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 the ice fills the gulf, and there will be no more 
 ships for the winter. That will be the last for me. 
 I will be pilot no more no.' She was ver' happy, 
 and a laugh ran over her little white teeth. Mon 
 Dieu, I .stop that laugh pretty quick in fine way ! " 
 
 He seemed for an instant to forget his great 
 trouble, and his face went to warm sunshine like a 
 boy's ; but it was as sun playing on a scarred 
 fortress. Presently the light faded out of his face 
 and left it like iron smouldering from the bellows. 
 
 " Well," he said, " you see there was a ship to go 
 almost the last of the season, and I said to my 
 wife, ' Mamette, it is the last time I shall be pilot. 
 You must come with me and bring the child, and 
 they will put us off at Father Point, and then we 
 will come back slow to the village on the good Ste. 
 Anne and live there ver' quiet' When I say that to 
 her she laugh back at me and say, ' Beau ! beau!' 
 and she laugh in the child's eyes, and speak oh, 
 holy ! she speak so gentle and so light and say 
 to the child, ' Would you like to go with your 
 idther a pretty journey down the gulf?' And the 
 little child laugh back at her, and shake its soft 
 brown hair over its head. They were both so glad 
 to go. I went to the captain of the ship. I say to 
 him, ' I will take my wife and my little child, and 
 when we come to Father Point we will go ashore.' 
 Bien, the captain laugh big, and it was all right. 
 That was long time ago long time."
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 311 
 
 He paused again, threw his head back with a 
 despairing toss, his chin dropped on his breast, his 
 hands clasped between his knees, and his pipe, laid 
 beside him on the bench, was forgotten. 
 
 Pierre quietly put some wood upon the fire, 
 opened his kit, drew out from it a little flask of 
 rum and laid it upon the bench beside the pipe. 
 A long time passed. At last Gaspard roused him- 
 self with a long sigh, turned and picked up the 
 pipe, but, seeing the flask of rum, lifted it, and 
 took one long swallow before he began to fill and 
 light his pipe. There came into his voice some- 
 thing of iron hardness as he continued his story. 
 
 " Well, we went into the boat. As we travelled 
 down the gulf a great storm came out of the north. 
 We thought it would pass, but it stayed on. When 
 we got to the last place where the pilot could land, 
 the waves were running like hills to the shore, and 
 no boat could live between the ship and the point. 
 For myself, it was nothing I am a strong man 
 and a great swimmer. But when a man has a 
 wife and a child, it is differen'. So the ship went 
 on out into the ocean with us. Well, we laugh a 
 little, and think what a great brain I had when I 
 say to my wife, ' Come and bring the child for the 
 last voyage of Gaspard the pilot.' You see, there 
 we were on board the ship, everything ver' good, 
 plenty to eat, much to drink, to smoke, all the 
 time. The sailors, they were ver' funny, and to see
 
 3i2 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 them take my child, my little Babette, and play 
 with her as she roll on the deck merci, it was 
 grand ! So I say to my wife, ' This will be bon 
 voyage for all.' .But a woman, she has not the 
 mind like a man. When a man laugh in the sun 
 and think nothing of evil, a woman laugh too, but 
 there come a little quick sob to her lips. You ask 
 her why and she cannot tell. She knows that 
 something will happen. A man has great idee, a 
 woman great sight. So my wife, she turn her face 
 away all sad from me then she was right she 
 was right ! 
 
 " One day in the ocean we pass a ship only two 
 days out. The ship signal us. I say to my wife, 
 ' Ha, ha ! now we can go back, maybe, to the good 
 Ste. Anne.' Well, the ships come close .together, 
 and the captain of the other ship he have some- 
 thing importan' with ours. He ask if there will be 
 chance of pilot into the gulf, because it is the first 
 time that he visit Quebec. The captain swing 
 round and call to me. I go up. I bring my wife 
 and my little Babette ; and that was how we sail 
 back to the great gulf! 
 
 " When my wife step on board that ship I see 
 her face get pale, and something strange in her 
 eyes. I ask her why ; she do not know, but she 
 hug Babette close to her breast with a kind of fear. 
 A long, low, black ship, it could run through every 
 sea. Soon the captain come to me and say, ' You
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 313 
 
 know the coast, the north coast of the gulf, from 
 Labrador to Quebec ? ' I tell him yes. ' Well,' he 
 say, ' do you know of a bay where few ships enter 
 safe ? ' I think a moment and I tell him of Belle 
 Amour. Then he say, ver' quick, 'That is the 
 place ; we will go to the bay of Belle Amour.' He 
 was ver' kind to my face ; he give my wife and 
 child good berth, plenty to eat and drink, and once 
 more I laugh ; but my wife there was in her face 
 something I not understan 1 . It is not easy 
 to understan' a woman. We got to the bay. I 
 had pride : I was young. I was the best pilot in 
 the St. Lawrence, and I took in the ship between 
 the reefs of the bay, where they run like a gridiron, 
 and I laugh when I swing the ship all ver' quick to 
 the right, after we pass the reefs, and make a curve 
 round something. The captain pull me up and ask 
 why. But I never tell him that. I not know why 
 I never tell him. But the good God put the thought 
 into my head, and I keep it to this hour, and it 
 never leave me, never never 1 " 
 
 He slowly rubbed his hands up and down his 
 knees, took another sip of rum, and went on : 
 
 " I brought the ship close up to the shore, and we 
 went to anchor. All that night I see the light of 
 a fire on the shore. So I slide down and swim to 
 the shore. Under a little arch of rocks some- 
 thing was going on. I could not tell, but I know 
 from the sound that they are burying something
 
 3H 
 
 Then, all at once, it come to me this is a pirate 
 ship ! I come closer and closer to the light, and 
 then I see a dreadful thing. There was the captain 
 and the mate, and another. They turn quick upon 
 two other men two sailors and kill them. Then 
 they take the bodies and wound them round some 
 casks in a great hole, and cover it all up. I under- 
 stan'. It is the old legend that a dead body will 
 keep gold all to itself, so that no one shall find it. 
 Mon Dieu ! " his voice dropped low and shook in 
 his throat " I gave one little cry at the sight, and 
 then they saw me. There were three. They were 
 armed ; they sprang upon me and tied me. Then 
 they flung me beside the fire, and they cover up the 
 hole with the gold and the bodies. 
 
 " When that was done they take me back to the 
 ship, then with pistols at my head they make me 
 pilot the ship out into the bay again. As we went 
 they make a chart of the place. We travel along 
 the coast for one day ; and then a great storm of 
 snow come, and the captain say to me, ' Steer us 
 into harbour.' When we are at anchor, they take 
 me and my wife and little child, and put us ashore 
 alone, with a storm and the bare rocks and the 
 dreadful night, and leave us there, that we shall 
 never tell the secret of the gold. That night my 
 wife and my child die in the snow." 
 
 Here his voice became strained and slow. " After 
 a long time I work my way to an Injin camp
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 3,5 
 
 For months I was a child in strength, all my flesh 
 gone. When the spring come I went and dug a 
 deeper grave for my wife and p'tite Babette, and 
 leave them there, where they had died. But I 
 come to the bay of Belle Amour, because I knew 
 some day the man with the devil's heart would 
 come back for his gold, and then would arrive my 
 time the hour of God ! " 
 
 He paused. " The hour of God," he repeated 
 slowly. " I have waited twenty years, but he has 
 not come ; yet I know that he will come. I feel it 
 here," he touched his forehead ; " I know it here," 
 he tapped his heart "Once where my heart 
 was, there is only one thing, and it is hate, and I 
 know I know that he will come. And when he 
 comes " He raised his arm high above his 
 head, laughed wildly, paused, let the hand drop, 
 and then fell to staring into the fire. 
 
 Pierre again placed the flask of rum between his 
 fingers. But Gaspard put it down, caught his arms 
 together across his breast, and never turned his face 
 from the fire. Midnight came, and still they sat 
 there silent No man had a greater gift in waiting 
 than Pierre. Many a time his life had been a 
 swivel, upon which the comedies and tragedies of 
 others had turned. He neither loved nor feared 
 men : sometimes he pitied them. He pitied Gas- 
 pard. He knew what it is to have the heart- 
 strings stretched out, one by one, by the hand of
 
 316 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 a Gorgon, while the feet are chained to the rocking 
 world 
 
 Not till the darkest hour of the morning did the 
 two leave their silent watch and go to bed. The 
 sun had crept stealthily to the door of the hut 
 before they rose again. Pierre laid his hand upon 
 Gaspard's shoulder as they travelled out into the 
 morning, and said : " My friend, I understand. 
 Your secret is safe with me ; you shall take me to 
 the place where the gold is buried, but it shall wait 
 there until the time is ripe. What is gold to me ? 
 Nothing. To find gold that is the trick of any 
 fool. To win it or to earn it is the only game. 
 Let the bodies rot about the gold. You and I will 
 wait. I have many friends in the northland, but 
 there is no face in any tent door looking for me. 
 You are alone : well, I will stay with you. Who 
 can tell ? perhaps it is near at hand the hour of 
 God!" 
 
 The huge hard hand of Gaspard swallowed the 
 small hand of Pierre, and, in a voice scarcely above 
 a whisper, he answered : " You shall be my com- 
 rade. I have told you all, as I have never told it 
 to my God. I do not fear you about the gold it 
 is all cursed. You are not like other men ; I will 
 trust you. Some time you also have had the throat 
 of a man in your fingers, and watched the life 
 spring out of his eyes, and leave them all empty. 
 When men feel like that, what is t gold what is
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 3,7 
 
 anything ? There is food in the bay and on the 
 hills. We will live together, you and I. Come and 
 I will show you the place of hell." 
 
 Together they journeyed down the crag and along 
 the beach to the place where the gold, the grim god 
 of this world, was fortressed and bastioned by its 
 victims. 
 
 The days went on ; the weeks and months ambled 
 by. Still the two lived together. Little speech 
 passed between them, save that speech of comrades, 
 who use more the sign than the tongue. It seemed 
 to Pierre after a time that Gaspard's wrongs were 
 almost his own. Yet with this difference : he must 
 stand by and let the avenger be the exetutioner ; 
 he must be the spectator merely. 
 
 Sometimes he went inland and brought back 
 moose, caribou, and the skins of other animals, 
 thus assisting Gaspard in his dealings with the 
 great Company. But again there were days 
 when he did nothing but lie on the skins at the 
 hut's door, or saunter in the shadows and the 
 sunlight. Not since he had come to Gaspard had 
 a ship passed the bay or sought to anchor in it. 
 
 But there came a day. It was the early summer. 
 The snow had shrunk from the ardent sun, and 
 had swilled away to the gulf, leaving the tender 
 grass showing. The moss on the rocks had 
 changed from brown to green, and the vagrant 
 birds had fluttered back from the south. The
 
 318 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 winter's furs had been carried away in the early 
 spring to the Company's post, by a detachment 
 of coureurs de bois. There was little left to do. 
 This morning they sat in the sun looking out 
 upon the gulf. Presently Gaspard rose and 
 went into the hut. Pierre's eyes still lazily 
 scanned the water. As he looked he saw a vessel 
 rounding a point in the distance. Suppose this 
 was the ship of the pirate and murderer? The, 
 fancy diverted him. His eyes drew away from 
 the indistinct craft first to the reefs, and then to 
 that spot where the colossal needle stretched up 
 under the water. 
 
 It was as Pierre speculated. Brigond, the 
 French pirate, who had hidden his gold at such 
 shameless cost, was, after twenty years in the 
 galleys at Toulon, come back to find his treasure. 
 He had doubted little that he would find it. The 
 lonely spot, the superstition concerning dead 
 bodies, the supposed doom of Gaspard, all ran in 
 his favour. His little craft came on, manned by as 
 vile a mob as ever mutinied or built a wrecker's fire. 
 
 When the ship got within a short distance of 
 the bay, Pierre rose and called. Gaspard came to 
 the door. 
 
 " There's work to do, pilot," he said. Gaspard 
 felt the thrill of his voice, and flashed a look out 
 to the gulf. He raised his hands with a gasp 
 " I feel it," he said : " it is the hour of God 1 "
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 319 
 
 He started to the rope ladder of the cliff, then 
 wheeled suddenly and came back to Pierre. " You 
 must not come," he said. " Stay here and watch ; 
 you shall see great things." His voice had 
 a round, deep tone. He caught both Pierre's 
 hands in his and added : " It is for my wife 
 and child; I have no fear! Adieu, my friend! 
 When you see the good Pere Corraine say to 
 him but no, it is no matter there is One 
 greater ! " 
 
 Once again he caught Pierre hard by the 
 shoulder, then ran to the cliff and swung down 
 the ladder. All at once there shot through 
 Pierre's body an impulse, and his eyes lighted 
 with excitement. He sprang towards the cliff. 
 " Gaspard, come back ! " he called ; then paused, 
 and, with an enigmatical smile, shrugged his 
 shoulders, drew back, and waited. 
 
 The vessel was hove to outside the bay, as if 
 hesitating. Brigond was considering whether it 
 were better, with his scant chart, to attempt the 
 bay, or to take small boats and make for the 
 shore. He remembered the reefs, but he did not 
 know of the needle of rock. 
 
 Presently he saw Gaspard's boat coming. " Some- 
 one who knows the bay," he said ; " I see a hut on 
 the cliff." 
 
 " Hello, who are you ? " Brigond called down 
 as Gaspard drew alongside.
 
 320 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " A Hudson's Bay Company's man," answered 
 Gaspard. 
 
 " How many are there of you ?" 
 
 " Myself alone." 
 
 " Can you pilot us in ? " 
 
 " I know the way." 
 
 " Come up." 
 
 Gaspard remembered Brigond, and he veiled 
 his eyes lest the hate he felt should reveal him. 
 No one could have recognised him as the young 
 pilot of twenty years before. Then his face was 
 cheerful and bright, and in his eye was the fire of 
 youth. Now a thick beard and furrowing lines 
 hid all the look of the past. His voice, too, was 
 desolate and distant. 
 
 Brigond clapped him on the shoulder. " How 
 long have you lived off there ? " he asked, as he 
 jerked his finger towards the shore. 
 
 " A good many years." 
 
 " Did anything strange ever happen there ? " 
 
 Gaspard felt his heart contract again, as it did 
 when Brigond's hand touched his shoulder. 
 
 " Nothing strange is known." 
 
 A vicious joy came into Brigond's face. His 
 fingers opened and shut " Safe, by the holy 
 heaven ! " he grunted. 
 
 " ' By the holy heaven ! ' " repeated Gaspard, 
 under his breath. 
 
 They walked forward. Almost as they did so
 
 THE PILOT OF BELLE AMOUR 321 
 
 there came a big puff of wind across the bay : one 
 of those sudden currents that run in from the ocean 
 and the gulf stream. Gaspard saw, and smiled. 
 In a moment the vessel's nose 'was towards the 
 bay, and she sailed in, dipping a shoulder to the 
 sudden foam. On she came past reef and bar, a 
 pretty tumbril to the slaughter. The spray 
 feathered up to her sails, the sun caught her on 
 deck and beam ; she was running dead for the 
 needle of rock. 
 
 Brigond stood at Gaspard's side. All at once 
 Gaspard made the sacred gesture and said, in a 
 low tone, as if only to himself: "Pardon, mon 
 capitaine, mon J/su I " Then he turned triumph- 
 antly, fiercely upon Brigond. The pirate was 
 startled. "What's the matter?" he said. 
 
 Not Gaspard, but the needle rock replied. 
 There was a sudden shock ; the vessel stood still 
 and shivered ; lurched, swung shoulder downwards, 
 reeled and struggled. Instantly she began to 
 sink. 
 
 " The boats 1 lower the boats I " cried Brigond. 
 " This cursed fool has run us on a rock ! " 
 
 The waves, running high, now swept over the 
 deck. Brigond started aft, but Gaspard sprang 
 before him. " Stand back," he called. " Where 
 you are you die ! " 
 
 Brigond, wild with terror and rage, ran at him, 
 Gaspard caught him as he came. With vast 
 
 21
 
 322 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 strength he lifted him and dashed him to the 
 deck. " Die there, murderer! " he cried. 
 
 Brigond crouched upon the deck, looking at 
 him with fearful eyes. "Who are you?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " I am Gaspard the pilot. I have waited for you 
 twenty years. Up there, in the snow, my wife 
 and child died. Here, in this bay, you die ! " 
 
 There was noise and racketing behind them, 
 but they two heard nothing. The one was alone 
 with his terror, the other with his soul. Once, 
 twice, thrice, the vessel heaved, then went suddenly 
 still. 
 
 Gaspard understood. One look at his victim, 
 then he made the sacred gesture again, and folded 
 his arms. 
 
 Pierre, from the height of the cliff, looking down, 
 saw the vessel dip at the bow, and then the waters 
 divided and swallowed it up. 
 
 " Gaspard should have lived," he said. " But 
 who can tell? Perhaps Mamette was waiting 
 for him."
 
 The Cruise of the Ninety-Nine 
 I. THE SEARCH 
 
 SHE was only a big gulf yawl, which a man 
 and a boy could manage at a pinch, with 
 old-fashioned high bulwarks, but lying clean in 
 the water. She had a tolerable record for speed, 
 and for other things so important that they were 
 now and again considered by the Government at 
 Quebec. She was called the Ninety-Nine. With 
 a sense of humour the cure* had called her so, 
 after an interview with her owner and captain, 
 Tarboe the smuggler. When he said to Tarboe 
 at Angel Point that he had come to seek the one 
 sheep that was lost, leaving behind him the other 
 ninety-and-nine within the fold at Isle of Days, 
 Tarboe had replied that it was a mistake he was 
 the ninety-nine, for he needed no repentance, and 
 immediately offered the cure* some old brown 
 brandy of fine flavour. They both had a whimsical 
 turn, and the cure" did not ask Tarboe how he 
 came by such perfect liquor. Many high in autho- 
 rity, it was said, had been soothed even to the 
 
 323
 
 324 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 winking of an eye when they ought to have sent 
 a Nordenfeldt against the Ninety-Nine. 
 
 The day after the cure* left Angel Point he spoke 
 of Tarboe and his craft as the Ninety-and-Nine ; 
 and Tarboe hearing of this for somehow he heard 
 everything immediately painted out the old name, 
 and called her the Ninety-Nine, saying that she 
 had been so blessed by the curd Afterwards the 
 Ninety-Nine had an increasing reputation for ex- 
 ploit and daring. In brief, Tarboe and his craft 
 were smugglers, and to have trusted gossip would 
 have been to say that the boat was as guilty as 
 the man. 
 
 Their names were much more notorious than 
 sweet ; and yet in Quebec men laughed as they 
 shrugged their shoulders at them ; for as many 
 jovial things as evil were told of Tarboe. When 
 it became known that a dignitary of the Church 
 had been given a case of splendid wine, which had 
 come in a roundabout way to him, men waked in 
 the night and laughed, to the annoyance of their 
 wives; for the same dignitary had preached a 
 powerful sermon against smugglers and the re- 
 ceivers of stolen goods. It was a sad thing for 
 the good man to be called a Ninety-Niner, as 
 were all good friends of Tarboe, high and low. 
 But when he came to know, after the wine had 
 been leisurely drunk and becomingly praised, he 
 brought his influence to bear in civic places, so
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 325 
 
 that there was nothing left to do but to corner 
 Tarboe at last. 
 
 It was in the height of summer, when there was 
 little to think of in the old fortressed city, and a 
 dart after a brigand appealed to the romantic 
 natures of the idle French folk, common and gentle. 
 
 Through clouds of rank tobacco smoke, and in 
 the wash of their bean soup, the habitants dis- 
 cussed the fate of " Black Tarboe," and officers of 
 the garrison and idle ladies gossiped at the Citadel 
 and at Murray Bay of the freebooting gentlemen, 
 whose Ninety-Nine had furnished forth many a 
 table in the great walled city. But Black Tarboe 
 himself was down at Anticosti, waiting for a cer- 
 tain merchantman. Passing vessels saw the Ninety- 
 Nine anchored in an open bay, flying its flag 
 flippantly before the world a rag of black sheep- 
 skin, with the wool on, in profane keeping with its 
 name. 
 
 There was no attempt at hiding, no skulking 
 behind a point, or scurrying from observation, but 
 an indolent and insolent waiting for something. 
 " Black Tarboe's getting reckless," said one captain 
 coming in, and another going out grinned as he 
 remembered the talk at Quebec, and thought of 
 the sport provided for the Ninety-Nine when she 
 should come up stream ; as she must in due time, 
 for Tarboe's home was on the Isle of Days, and was 
 not he fond and proud of his daughter'Joan to a
 
 326 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 point of folly? He was not alone in his admira- 
 tion of Joan, for the cure at Isle of Days said high 
 things of her. 
 
 Perhaps this was because she was unlike most 
 other girls, and women too, in that she had a sense 
 of humour, got from having mixed with choice 
 spirits who visited her father and carried out at 
 Angel Point a kind of freemasonry, which had few 
 rites and many charges and countercharges. She 
 had that almost impossible gift in a woman the 
 power of telling a tale whimsically. It was said 
 that once, when Orvay Lafarge, a new Inspector 
 of Customs, came to spy out the land, she kept 
 him so amused by her quaint wit, that he sat in 
 the doorway gossiping with her, while Tarboe and 
 two others unloaded and safely hid away a cargo 
 of liquors from the Ninety-Nine. And one of the 
 men, as cheerful as Joan herself, undertook to 
 carry a little keg of brandy into the house, under 
 the very nose of the young inspector, who had 
 sought to mark his appointment by the detection 
 and arrest of Tarboe single-handed. He had 
 never met Tarboe or Tarboe's daughter when he 
 made his boast. If his superiors had known that 
 Loce Bissonnette, Tarboe's jovial lieutenant, had 
 carried the keg of brandy into the house in a 
 water-pail, not fifteen feet from where Lafarge sat 
 with Joan, they might have asked for his resigna- 
 tion. True, the thing was cleverly done, for
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 327 
 
 Bissonnette made the water spill quite naturally 
 against his leg, and when he turned to Joan and 
 said in a crusty way that he didn't care if he spilled 
 all the water in the pail, he looked so like an 
 unwilling water-carrier that Joan for one little 
 moment did not guess. When she understood, she 
 laughed till the tears came to her eyes, and pre- 
 sently, because Lafarge seemed hurt, gave him 
 to understand that he was upon his honour if 
 she told him what it was. He consenting, she, 
 still laughing, asked him into the house, and then 
 drew the keg from the pail, before his eyes, and, 
 tapping it, gave him some liquor, which he accepted 
 without churlishness. He found nothing in this 
 to lessen her in his eyes, for he knew that women 
 have no civic virtues. 
 
 He drank to their better acquaintance with few 
 compunctions ; a matter not scandalous, for there is 
 nothing like a witty woman to turn a man's head, 
 and there was not so much at stake after all. 
 Tarboe had gone on for many a year till his trade 
 seemed like the romance of law rather than its 
 breach. It is safe to say that Lafarge was a less 
 sincere if not a less blameless customs officer from 
 this time forth. For humour on a woman's lips is 
 a potent thing, as any man knows that has kissed 
 it off in laughter. 
 
 As we said, Tarboe lay rocking in a bight at 
 Anticosti with an empty hold and a scanty larder.
 
 328 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Still, he was in no ill-humour, for he smoked much 
 and talked more than common. Perhaps that was 
 because Joan was with him an unusual thing. 
 She was as good a sailor as her father, but she did 
 not care, nor did he, to have her mixed up with him 
 in his smuggling. So far as she knew, she had never 
 been on board the Ninety-Nine when it carried a 
 smuggled cargo. She had not broken the letter of 
 the law. Her father, on asking her to come on 
 this cruise, had said that it was a pleasure trip to 
 meet a vessel in the gulf. 
 
 The pleasure had not been remarkable, though 
 there had been no bad weather. The coast of 
 Anticosti is cheerless, and it is possible even to tire 
 of sun and water. True, Bissonnette played the 
 concertina with passing sweetness, and sang as 
 little like a wicked smuggler as one might think. 
 But there were boundaries even to that, as there 
 were to his love-making, which was, however, 
 so interwoven with laughter that it was im- 
 possible to think the matter serious. Sometimes 
 of an evening Joan danced on deck to the music 
 of the concertina dances which had their origin 
 largely with herself: fantastic, touched off with 
 some unexpected sleight of foot, almost uncanny 
 at times to Bissonnette, whose temperament could 
 hardly go her distance when her mood was as this. 
 
 Tarboe looked on with a keener eye and under- 
 standing, for was she not bone of his bone and
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 329 
 
 flesh of his flesh ? Who was he that he should fail 
 to know her ? He saw the moonlight play on her 
 face and hafr, and he wave<i-his head with the 
 swaying of her body, and smacked his lips in 
 thought of the fortune which, smuggling days over, 
 would carry them up to St Louis Street, Quebec, 
 there to dwell as in a garden of good things. 
 
 After many days had passed, Joan tired of the 
 concertina, of her own dancing, of her father's 
 tales, and became inquisitive. So at last she said : 
 
 " Father, what's all this for? " 
 
 Tarboe did not answer her at once, but, turning 
 to Bissonnette, asked him to play " The Demoiselle 
 with the Scarlet Hose." It was a gay little 
 demoiselle according to Bissonnette, and through 
 the creaking, windy gaiety Tarboe and his daughter 
 could talk without being heard by the musician. 
 Tarboe lit another cigar that badge of greatness 
 in the eyes of his fellow-habitants, and said : 
 
 "What's all this for, Joan ? Why, we're here for 
 our health." His teeth bit on the cigar with enjoy- 
 able emphasis. 
 
 " If you don't tell me what's in the wind, you'll 
 be sorry. Come, where's the good? I've got as 
 much head as you have, father, and " 
 
 " Mon Dieul Much more. That's not the 
 question. It was to be a surprise to you." 
 
 "Pshaw! You can only have one minute of 
 surprise, and you can have months of fun looking
 
 330 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 out for a thing. I don't want surprises ; I want 
 what you've got the thing that's kept you good- 
 tempered while we lie here like snaijs on the rocks." 
 "Well, my cricket, if that's the way you feel, 
 here you are. It is a long story, but I will make 
 it short. Once there was a pirate called Brigond, 
 and he brought into a bay on the coast of Labra- 
 dor a fortune in some kegs gold, gold ! He hid 
 it in a cave, wrapping around it the dead bodies of 
 two men. It is thought that one can never find it 
 so. He hid it, and sailed away. He was captured, 
 and sent to prison in France for twenty years. 
 Then he come back with a crew and another ship, 
 and sailed into the bay, but his ship went down 
 within sight of the place. And so the end of him 
 and all. But wait. There was one man, the mate 
 on the first voyage. He had been put in prison 
 also. He did not get away as soon as Brigond. 
 When he was free he come to the captain of a ship 
 that I know, the Free-and-Easy, that sails to 
 Havre, and told him the story, asking for passage 
 to Quebec. The captain Gobal did not believe 
 it, but said he would bring him over on the next 
 voyage. Gobal come to me and told me all there 
 was to tell. I said that it was a true story, for 
 Pretty Pierre told me once he saw Brigond's ship 
 go down in the bay ; but he would not say how, 
 or why, or where. Pierre would not lie in a thing 
 like that, and "
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 331 
 
 '" Why didn't he get the gold himself?" 
 
 " What is money to him ? He is as a gipsy. To 
 him the money is cursed. He said so. Eh bien ! 
 some wise men are fools, one way or another. 
 Well, I told Gobal I would give the man the 
 Ninety-Nine for the cruise and search, and that we 
 should divide the gold between us, if it was found, 
 taking out first enough to make a dot for you and 
 a fine handful for Bissonnette. But no, shake not 
 your head like that. It shall be so. Away went 
 Gobal four months ago, and I get a letter from him 
 weeks past, just after Whitsunday, to say he would 
 be here some time in the first of July, with the 
 man. Well, it is a great game. The man is a 
 pirate, but it does not matter he has paid for 
 that. I thought you would be glad of a fine 
 adventure like that, so I said to you, Come." 
 
 " But, father" 
 
 " If you do not like you can go on with Gobal 
 in the Free-and-Easy t and you shall be landed at 
 the Isle of Days. That's all. We're waiting here 
 for Gobal. He promised to stop just outside this 
 bay and land our man on us. Then, blood of my 
 heart, away we go after the treasure ! " 
 
 Joan's eyes flashed. Adventure was in her as 
 deep as life itself. She had been cradled in it, 
 reared in it, lived with it, and here was no law- 
 breaking. Whose money was it ? No one's : for 
 who should say what ship it was, or what people
 
 332 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 were robbed by Brigond and those others? Gold 
 that was a better game than wine and brandy, 
 and for once her father would be on a cruise which 
 would not be, as it were, sailing in forbidden waters. 
 
 "When do you expect Gobal?" she asked 
 eagerly. 
 
 "He ought to have been here a week ago. 
 Maybe he has had a bad voyage, or something." 
 
 " He's sure to come ? " 
 
 " Of course. I found out about that. She's got 
 a big consignment to people in Quebec. Some- 
 thing has gone wrong, but she'll be here yes." 
 
 " What will you do if you get the money ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 Tarboe laughed heartily. " My faith ! Come 
 play up those scarlet hose, Bissonnette ! My 
 faith ! I'll go into Parliament at Quebec. 
 Thunder ! I will have sport with them. I'll reform 
 the customs. There shan't be any more smuggling. 
 The people of Quebec shall drink no more good 
 wine no one except Black Tarboe, the member 
 for Isle of Days." 
 
 Again he laughed, and his eyes spilt fire like 
 revolving wheels. For a moment Joan was quiet, 
 her face was shining like the sun on a river. She 
 saw more than her father, for she saw release. A 
 woman may stand by a man who breaks the law 
 but in her heart she always has bitterness, for that 
 the world shall speak well of herself and what she
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 333 
 
 loves is the secret desire of every woman. In her 
 heart she never can defy the world as does a man. 
 
 She had carried off the situation as became the 
 daughter of a daring adventurer, who in more 
 stirring times might have been a Du Lhut or a 
 Rob Roy, but she was sometimes tired of the 
 fighting, sometimes wishful that she could hold her 
 position easier. Suppose the present good curd 
 should die and another less considerate arrive, how 
 hard might her position become ! Then, she had a 
 spirit above her station, as have most people who 
 know the world and have seen something of its 
 forbidden side ; for it is notable that wisdom comes 
 not alone from loving good things, but from having 
 seen evil as well as good. Besides, Joan was not 
 a woman to go singly to her life's end. 
 
 There was scarcely a man on Isle of Days and 
 in the parish of Ste. Eunice, on the mainland, but 
 would gladly have taken to wife the daughter of 
 Tarboe the smuggler, and it is likely that the curd 
 of either parish would not have advised against it. 
 
 Joan had had the taste of the lawless, and now 
 she knew, as she sat and listened to Boisson- 
 nette's music, that she also could dance for joy, 
 in the hope of a taste of the lawful. With this 
 money, if it were got, there could be another life 
 in Quebec. She could not forbear laughing now 
 as she rembered that first day she had seen Orvay 
 Lafarge, and she said to Bissonnette : " Loce, do
 
 334 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 you mind the keg in the water-pail ? " Bissonnette 
 paused on an out-pull, and threw back his head 
 with a soundless laugh, then played the concertina 
 into contortions. 
 
 " That Lafarge ! H'm ! He is very polite ; but, 
 pshaw, it is no use that, in whisky-running. To 
 beat a great man, a man must be great. Tarboe 
 Noir can lead M'sieu' Lafarge all like that ! " 
 
 It seemed as if he were pulling the nose of the 
 concertina. Tarboe began tracing a kind of maze 
 with his fingers on the deck, his eyes rolling out- 
 ward like an endless puzzle. But presently he 
 turned sharp on Joan. 
 
 " How many times have you met him?" he asked. 
 
 " Oh, six or seven eight or nine, perhaps." 
 
 Her father stared. "Eight or nine? By the 
 holy ! Is it like that ? Where have you seen him ? " 
 
 " Twice at our home, as you know; two or three 
 times at dances at the Belle Chatelaine, and the rest 
 when we were at Quebec in May. He is amusing, 
 M'sieu' Lafarge." 
 
 "Yes, two of a kind," remarked Tarboe drily; and 
 then he told his schemes to Joan, letting Bisson- 
 nette hang up the "The Demoiselle with the 
 Scarlet Hose," and begin "The Coming of the Gay 
 Cavalier." She entered into his plans with spirit, 
 and together they speculated what bay it might be, 
 of the many on the coast of Labrador. 
 
 They spent two days longer waiting, and then at
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 335 
 
 i 
 
 dawn a merchantman came sauntering up to anchor. 
 She signalled to the Ninety-Nine. In five minutes 
 Tarboe was climbing up the side of the Free-and- 
 Easy, and presently was in Gobal's cabin, with a 
 glass of wine in his hand. 
 
 "What kept you, Gobal?" he said. "You're ten 
 days late, at least" 
 
 "Storm and sickness broken mainmast and 
 smallpox." Gobal was not cheerful. 
 
 Tarboe caught at something. " You've got our 
 man ? " 
 
 Gobal drank off his wine slowly. "Yes," he 
 said. 
 
 " Well ? Why don't you fetch him ? " 
 
 " You can see him below." 
 
 "The man has legs, let him walk here. Hello! 
 my Gobal, what's the matter? If he's here bring 
 him up. We've no time to lose." 
 
 " Tarboe, the fool got smallpox, and died three 
 hours ago the tenth man since we started. We're 
 going to give him to the fishes. They're putting 
 him in his linen now." 
 
 Tarboe's face hardened. Disaster did not dismay 
 him, it either made him ugly or humorous, and one 
 phase was as dangerous as the other. 
 
 " D'ye mean to say," he groaned, " that the game 
 is up? is it all finished? Sweat o' my soul, my 
 skin crawls like hot glass! Is it the end, eh? 
 The beast, to die ! "
 
 336 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 Gobal's eyes glistened. He had sent up the 
 mercury, he would now bring it down. 
 
 " Not such a beast as you think. A live pirate, 
 a convict as comrade in adventure, is not sugar in 
 the teeth. This one was no better than the worst. 
 Well, he died. That was awkward. But he gave 
 me the chart of the bay before he died and that 
 was damn square." 
 
 Tarboe held out his hand eagerly, the big fingers 
 bending claw-like. 
 
 " Give it me, Gobal," he said. 
 
 " Wait. There's no hurry. Come along, there's 
 the bell : they're going to drop him." 
 
 He coolly motioned, and passed out from the 
 cabin to the ship's side. Tarboe kept his tongue 
 from blasphemy, and his hand from the captain's 
 shoulder, for he knew only too well that Gobal held 
 the game in his hands. They leaned over and saw 
 two sailors with something on a plank. 
 
 " We therefore commit his body to the deep, in 
 the knowledge of the Judgment Day let her go ! " 
 grunted Gobal ; and a long straight canvas bundle 
 shot with a swishing sound beneath the water. " It 
 was rough on him too," he continued ; " he waited 
 twenty years to have his chance again. Damn me, 
 if I didn't feel as if I'd hit him in the eye somehow, 
 when he begged me to keep him alive long enough 
 to have a look at the rhino. But it wasn't no use. 
 He had to go, and I told him so. Then he did the
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 337 
 
 nice thing : he give me the chart But he made 
 me swear on a book of the Mass that if we got the 
 gold we'd send one-half his share to a woman in 
 Paris, and the rest to his brother, a priest at Nancy. 
 I'll keep my word but yes ! Eh, Tarboe ? " 
 
 " You can keep your word for me ! What, you 
 think, Gobal, there is no honour in Black Tarboe, 
 and you've known me ten years ! Haven't I always 
 kept my word like a clock ? " 
 
 Gobal stretched out his hand. " Like the sun 
 sure. That's enough. We'll stand by my oath. 
 You shall see the chart" 
 
 Going again inside the cabin, Gobal took out a 
 map grimed with ceaseless fingering, and showed it 
 to Tarboe, putting his finger on the spot where the 
 treasure lay. 
 
 "The Bay of Belle Amour!" cried Tarboe, his 
 eyes flashing. "Ah, I know it That's where 
 Gaspard the pilot lived. It's only forty leagues or 
 so from here." His fingers ran here and there on 
 the map. " Yes, yes," he continued, " it's so, but he 
 hasn't placed the reef right. Ah, here is how 
 Brigond's ship went down. There's a needle of 
 rock in the bay. It isn't here." 
 
 Gobal handed the chart over. " I can't go with 
 you, but I take your word ; I can say no more. If 
 you cheat me I'll kill you ; that's all." 
 
 " Let me give a bond," said Tarboe quickly. " If I 
 saw much gold perhaps I couldn't trust myself, but 
 
 22
 
 338 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 there's someone to be trusted, who'll swear for me. 
 If my daughter Joan give her word " 
 
 " Is she with you ? " 
 
 " Yes, in the Ninety-Nine, now. I'll send Bisson- 
 nette for her. Yes, yes, I'll send, for gold is worse 
 than bad whisky when it gets into a man's head. 
 Joan will speak for me." 
 
 Ten minutes later Joan was in Gobal's cabin, 
 guaranteeing for her father the fulfilment of his 
 bond. An hour afterwards the Free-and-Easy was 
 moving up stream with her splintered mast and 
 ragged sails, and the Ninety-Nine was looking up 
 and over towards the Bay of Belle Amour. She 
 reached it in the late afternoon of the next day. 
 Bissonnette did not know the object of the expedi- 
 tion, but he had caught the spirit of the affair, and 
 his eyes were like spots of steel as he held the sheet 
 or took his turn at the tiller. Joan's eyes were now 
 on the sky, now on the sail, and now on the land, 
 weighing as wisely as her father the advantage 
 of the wind, yet dwelling on that cave where 
 skeletons kept ward over the spoils of a pirate 
 ship. 
 
 They arrived, and Tarboe took the Ninety-Nine 
 warily in on a little wind off the land. He came 
 near sharing the fate of Brigond, for the yawl grazed 
 the needle of the rock that, hiding away in the 
 water, with a nose out for destruction, awaits its 
 victims. They reached safe anchorage, but by the
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 339 
 
 time they landed it was night, with, however, a 
 good moon showing. 
 
 All night they searched, three silent, eager 
 figures, drawing step by step nearer the place 
 where the ancient enemy of man was barracked 
 about by men's bodies. It was Joan who, at last, 
 as dawn drew up, discovered the hollow between 
 two great rocks where the treasure lay. A few 
 minutes' fierce digging, and the kegs of gold were 
 disclosed, showing through the ribs of two skeletons. 
 Joan shrank back, but the two men tossed aside 
 the rattling bones, and presently the kegs were 
 standing between them on the open shore. Bisson- 
 nette's eyes were hungry he knew now the where- 
 fore of the quest. He laughed outright, a silly, 
 loud, hysterical laugh. Tarboe's eyes shifted from 
 the sky to the river, from the river to the kegs, 
 from the kegs to Bissonnette. On him they stayed 
 a moment. Bissonnette shrank back. Tarboe 
 was feeling for the first time in his life the deadly 
 suspicion which comes with ill-gotten wealth. 
 This passed as his eyes and Joan's met, for she 
 had caught the melodrama, the overstrain ; Bisson- 
 nette's laugh had pointed the situation, and her 
 sense of humour had prevailed. " La, la," she said, 
 with a whimsical quirk of the head, and no 
 apparent relevancy : 
 
 " Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home, 
 Your house is on fire, and your children all gone."
 
 340 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 The remedy was good. Tarboe's eyes came 
 again to their natural liveliness, and Bissonnette 
 said : 
 
 " My throat's like a piece of sand-paper." 
 
 Tarboe handed over a brandy flask, after taking 
 a pull himself, and then sitting down on one of the 
 kegs, he said : " It is as you see, and now Angel 
 Point very quick. To get it there safe, that's the 
 thing ! " Then, scanning the sky closely : " It's for 
 a handsome day, and the wind goes to bear us up 
 fine. Good ! Well, for you, Bissonnette, there 
 shall be a thousand dollars, you shall have the 
 Belle Chatelaine Inn and the little lady at Point 
 Pierrot. For the rest, you shall keep a quiet 
 tongue, eh? If not, my Bissonnette, we shall be 
 the best of strangers, and you shall not be happy. 
 Eh?" 
 
 Bissonnette's eyes flashed. "The Belle Chate- 
 laine ? Good ! that is enough. My tongue is 
 tied ; I cannot speak ; it is fastened with a thousand 
 pegs." 
 
 "Very good, a thousand gold pegs, and you 
 shall never pull them. The little lady will have 
 you with them, not without ; and unless you 
 stand by me, no one shall have you at any price 
 by God!" 
 
 He stood up, but Joan put out her hand. " You 
 have been speaking, now it is my turn. Don't cry 
 cook till you have the venison home. What is
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 341 
 
 more, I gave my word to Gobal, and I will keep it. 
 I will be captain. No talking ! When you've got 
 the kegs in the cellar at Angel Point, good ! but 
 now come, my comrades, I am your captain ! " 
 
 She was making the thing a cheerful adventure, 
 and the men now swung the kegs on their 
 shoulders and carried them to the boat. In 
 another half-hour they were under way in the 
 gaudy light of an orange sunrise, a simmering 
 wind from the sea lifting them up the river, and 
 the grey-red coast of Labrador shrinking sullenly 
 back. 
 
 About this time, also, a Government cutter was 
 putting out from under the mountain - wall at 
 Quebec, its officer in command having got renewed 
 orders from the Minister to bring in Tarboe the 
 smuggler. And when Mr. Martin, the inspector 
 in command of the expedition, was ordered to 
 take with him Mr. Orvay Lafarge and five men, 
 "effectively armed," it was supposed by the 
 romantic Minister that the matter was as good as 
 done. 
 
 What Mr. Orvay Lafarge did when he got the 
 word, was to go straight to his hat-peg, then leave 
 the office, walk to the little club where he spent 
 leisure hours, called office hours by people who 
 wished to be precise as well as suggestive sit 
 down, and raise a glass to his lips. After which he 
 threw himself back in his chair and said : M Well,
 
 342 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 I'm particularly damned ! " A few hours later 
 they were away on their doubtful exploit 
 
 II. THE DEFENCE 
 
 On the afternoon of the second day after she left 
 Labrador, the Ninety-Nine came rippling near Isle 
 of Fires, not sixty miles from her destination, 
 catching a fair wind on her quarter off the land. 
 Tarboe was in fine spirits, Joan was as full of songs 
 as a canary, and Bissonnette was as busy watching 
 her as in keeping the nose of the Ninety-Nine 
 pointing for Cap de Gloire, Tarboe was giving the 
 sail full to the wind, and thinking how he would 
 just be able to reach Angel Point and get his treasure 
 housed before mass in the morning. 
 
 Mass ! How many times had he laughed as he 
 sat in church and heard the cur6 have his gentle 
 fling at smuggling ! To think that the hiding-place 
 for his liquor was the unused, almost unknown, 
 cellar of that very church, built a hundred years 
 before as a refuge from the Indians, which he had 
 reached by digging a tunnel from the shore to its 
 secret passage ! That was why the customs officers 
 never found anything at Angel Point, and that was 
 why Tarboe much loved going to mass. He some- 
 times thought he could catch the flavour of the 
 brands as he leaned his forehead on the seat before 
 him. But this time he would go to mass with a
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 343 
 
 fine handful of those gold pieces in his pocket, just 
 to keep him in a commendable mood. He laughed 
 out loud at the thought of doing so within a stone's 
 throw of a fortune and nose-shot of fifty kegs of 
 brandy. 
 
 As he did so, Bissonnette gave a little cry. They 
 were coming on to Cap de Gloire at the moment, 
 and Tarboe and Joan, looking, saw a boat standing 
 off towards the mainland, as if waiting for them. 
 Tarboe gave a roar, and called to Joan to take the 
 tiller. He snatched a glass and levelled it 
 
 " A Government tug ! " he said, " and by the 
 Holy Mother, there's your tall Lafarge among 'em, 
 Joan ! I'd know him by his height miles off." 
 
 Joan lost colour a trifle and then got courage. 
 " Pshaw ! " she said, " what does he want ? " 
 
 "Want? Want? He wants the Ninety-Nine 
 and her cargo ; but by the sun of my soul, he'll 
 get her across the devil's gridiron ! See here, my 
 girl, this ain't any sport with you aboard. Bisson- 
 nette and I could make a stand for it alone, but 
 what's to become of you ? I don't want you mixed 
 up in the mess." 
 
 The girl was eyeing the Government boat 
 " But I'm in it, and I can't be out of it, and I don't 
 want to be out now that I am in. Let me see the 
 glass." She took it in one hand. " Yes, it must be 
 M'sieu' Lafarge," she said, frowning. " He might 
 have stayed out of this."
 
 344 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " When he's got orders, he has to go," answered 
 her father ; " but he must look out, for a gun is a 
 gun, and I don't pick and choose. Besides, I've no 
 contraband this cruise, and I'll let no one stick 
 me up." 
 
 " There are six or seven of them," said Joan 
 debatingly. 
 
 " Bring her up to the wind," shouted Tarboe to 
 Bissonnette. The mainsail closed up several points, 
 the Ninety-Nine slackened her pace and edged in 
 closer to the land. " Now, my girl," said Tarboe, 
 " this is how it stands. If we fight, there's someone 
 sure to be hurt, and if I'm hurt, where'll you be ? " 
 
 Bissonnette interposed : " We've got nothing 
 contraband. The gold is ours." 
 
 " Trust that crew but no ! " cried Tarboe, with 
 an oath. "The Government would hold the 
 rhino for possible owners, and then give it to a 
 convent or something. They shan't put foot here. 
 They've said war, and they'll get it! They're 
 signalling us to stop, and they're bearing down. 
 There goes a shot ! " 
 
 The girl had been watching the Government 
 boat coolly. Now that it began to bear on, she 
 answered her father's question. 
 
 " Captain," she said, like a trusted mate, " we'll 
 bluff them." Her eyes flashed with the intelligence 
 of war. " Here, quick, I'll take the tiller. They 
 haven't seen Bissonnette yet, he sits low. Call all
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 345 
 
 hands on deck shout ! Then, see : Loce will go 
 down the middle hatch, get a gun, come up with 
 it on his shoulder, and move on to the fo'castle. 
 Then he'll drop down the fo'castle hatch, get along 
 to the middle hatch, and come up again with the 
 gun, now with his cap, now without it, now with his 
 coat, now without it. He'll do that till we've got 
 twenty or thirty men on deck. They'll think we've 
 been laying for them, and they'll not come on you 
 see!" 
 
 Tarboe ripped out an oath. " It's a great game," 
 he said, and a moment afterwards, in response to 
 his roars, Bissonnette came up the hatch with his 
 gun showing bravely ; then again and again, now 
 with his cap, now without, now with his coat, now 
 with none, anon with a tarpaulin over his shoulders 
 grotesquely. Meanwhile Tarboe trained his one 
 solitary little cannon on the enemy, roaring his 
 men into place. 
 
 From the tug it seemed that a large and well- 
 armed crew were ranging behind the bulwarks of 
 the Ninety-Nine. Mr. Martin, the inspector, saw 
 with alarm Bissonnette's constantly appearing 
 rifle. 
 
 " They've arranged a plant for us, Mr. Lafarge. 
 What do you think we'd better do ? " he said 
 
 "Fight," answered Lafarge laconically. He 
 wished to put himself on record, for he was the only 
 one on board who saw through the ruse.
 
 346 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " But I've counted at least twenty men, all 
 armed, and we've only five." 
 
 " As you please, sir," said Lafarge bluntly, angry 
 at being tricked, but inwardly glad to be free of the 
 business, for he pictured to himself that girl at the 
 tiller he had seen her as she went aft in a police 
 court at Quebec. Yet his instinct for war and his 
 sense of duty impelled him to say, " Still, sir, fight." 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Lafarge," excitedly said his chief. 
 " I cannot risk it. We must go back for more men 
 and bring along a Gatling. Slowdown!" he called. 
 
 Lafarge turned on his heel with an oath, and 
 stood watching the Ninety-Nine. 
 
 " She'll laugh at me till I die ! " he said to him- 
 self presently, as the tug turned up stream and 
 pointed for Quebec. "Well, I'm jiggered!" he 
 added, as a cannon shot came ringing over the 
 water after them. He was certain also that he 
 heard loud laughter. No doubt he was right ; for 
 as the tug hurried on, Tarboe ran to Joan, hugged 
 her like a bear, and roared till he ached. Then 
 she paid out the sheet, they clapped on all sail, 
 and travelled in the track of the enemy. 
 
 Tarboe's spirit was roused. He was not dis- 
 posed to let his enemy off on even such terms, so 
 he now turned to Joan and said : " What say you 
 to a chase of the gentleman ? " 
 
 Joan was in a mood for such a dare-devil adven- 
 ture. For three people, one of whom was a girl, to
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 347 
 
 give chase to a well-manned, well-armed Govern- 
 ment boat was too good a relish to be missed. Then, 
 too, it had just occurred to her that a parley would 
 be amusing, particularly if she and Lafarge were 
 the truce-bearers. So she said : "That is very good." 
 "Suppose they should turn and fight?" suggested 
 Bissonnette. 
 
 " That's true here's Joah," agreed Tarboe. 
 " But, see," said Joan. " If we chase them and call 
 upon them to surrender and after all, we can prove 
 that we had nothing contraband what a splendid 
 game it'll be ! " Mischief flicked in her eyes. 
 
 " Good ! " said Tarboe. " To-morrow I shall be a 
 
 rich man, and then they'll not dare to come again." 
 
 So saying, he gave the sail to the wind, and 
 
 away the Ninety-Nine went after the one ewe lamb 
 
 of the Government 
 
 Mr. Martin saw her coming, and gave word for 
 all steam. It would be a pretty game, for the 
 wind was in Tarboe's favour, and the general 
 advantage was not greatly with the tug. Mr. 
 Martin was now anxious indeed to get out of the 
 way of the smuggler. Lafarge made one re- 
 straining effort, then settled into an ironical mood. 
 Yet a half-dozen times he was inclined to blurt 
 out to Martin what he believed was the truth. A 
 man, a boy, and a girl to bluff them that way ! In 
 his bones he felt that it was the girl who was 
 behind this thing. Of one matter he was sure-
 
 348 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 they had no contraband stuff on board, or Tarboe 
 would not have brought his daughter along. He 
 could not understand the attitude, for Tarboe 
 would scarcely have risked the thing out of mere 
 bravado. Why not call a truce? Perhaps he 
 could solve the problem. They were keeping a 
 tolerably safe distance apart, and there was no 
 great danger of the Ninety-Nine overhauling them 
 even if it so willed, but Mr. Martin did not know 
 that. 
 
 What he said to his chief had its effect, and 
 soon there was a white flag flying on the tug. It 
 was at once answered with a white handkerchief 
 of Joan's. Then the tug slowed up, the Ninety- 
 Nine came on gaily, and at a good distance came 
 up to the wind, and stood off. 
 
 "What do you want?" asked Tarboe through 
 his speaking-tube. 
 
 " A parley," called Mr. Martin. 
 
 " Good ; send an officer," answered Tarboe. 
 
 A moment after, Lafarge was in a boat rowing 
 over to meet another boat rowed by Joan alone, 
 who, dressed in a suit of Bissonnette's, had pre- 
 vailed on her father to let her go. 
 
 The two boats nearing each other, Joan stood 
 up, saluting, and Lafarge did the same. 
 
 "Good-day, m'sieu'," said Joan, with assumed 
 brusqueness, mischief lurking about her mouth. 
 " What do you want ? "
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 349 
 
 "Good-day, monsieur; I did not expect to 
 confer with you." 
 
 "M'sieu'," said Joan, with well-acted dignity, 
 " if you prefer to confer with the captain or Mr. 
 Bissonnette, whom I believe you know in the 
 matter of a pail, and " 
 
 " No, no ; pardon me, monsieur,' said Lafarge 
 more eagerly than was good for the play, " I am 
 glad to confer with you, you will understand you 
 will understand " He paused. 
 
 " What will I understand ? " 
 
 " You will understand that I understand ! " 
 Lafarge waved meaningly towards the Ninety- 
 Nine^ but it had no effect at all. Joan would not 
 give the game over into his hands. 
 
 " That sounds like a charade or a puzzle game. 
 We are gentlemen on a serious errand, aren't 
 we?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Lafarge, " perfect gentlemen on 
 a perfectly serious errand ! " 
 
 "Very well, m'sieu'. Have you come to sur- 
 render?" 
 
 The splendid impudence of the thing stunned 
 Lafarge, but he said : " I suppose one or the other 
 ought to surrender ; and naturally," he added with 
 slow point, " it should be the weaker." 
 
 " Very well. Our captain is willing to consider 
 conditions. You came down on us to take us a 
 quiet craft sailing in free waters. You attack
 
 350 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 us without cause. We summon all hands, and 
 you run. We follow, you ask for truce. It is 
 granted. We are not hard, no ! We only want 
 our rights. Admit them ; we'll make surrender 
 easy, and the matter is over." 
 
 Lafarge gasped. She was forcing his hand. 
 She would not understand his oblique suggestions. 
 He saw only one way now, and that was to meet 
 her, boast for boast. 
 
 " I haven't come to surrender," he said, " but to 
 demand." 
 
 " M'sieu'," Joan said grandly, "there's nothing 
 more to say. Carry word to your captain that 
 we'll overhaul him by sundown, and sink him 
 before supper." 
 
 Lafarge burst out laughing. 
 
 " Well, by the Lord, but you're a swashbuckler, 
 Joan" 
 
 "M'sieu'!" 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! I tell you, nonsense ! Let's 
 have over with this, my girl. You're the cleverest 
 woman on the continent, but there's a limit to 
 everything. Here, tell me now, and if you answer 
 me straight I'll say no more." 
 
 " M'sieu', I am here to consider conditions, not 
 to" 
 
 " Oh, for God's sake, Joan ! Tell me now, have 
 you got anything contraband on board ? There'll 
 be a nasty mess about the thing, for me and all of
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 351 
 
 us, and why can't we compromise? I tell you 
 honestly we'd have come on if I hadn't seen you 
 aboard." 
 
 Joan turned her head back with a laugh. " My 
 poor m'sieu'! You have such bad luck. Con- 
 traband ? Let me see ? Liquors and wines and 
 tobacco are contraband. Is it not so ? " Lafarge 
 nodded. 
 
 " Is money gold contraband ? " 
 
 " Money ? No ; of course not, and you know it. 
 Why won't you be sensible? You're getting me 
 into a bad hole, and " 
 
 " I want to see how you'll come out Jf you 
 come out well " She paused quaintly. 
 
 " Yes, if I come out well " . 
 
 " If you come out very well, and we do not sink 
 you before supper, I may ask you to come and 
 see me." 
 
 " H'm ! Is that all ? After spoiling my reputa- 
 tion, I'm to be let come and see you." 
 
 "Isn't that enough to start with? What has 
 spoiled your reputation ?" 
 
 " A man, a boy, and a slip of a girl." He looked 
 meaningly enough at her now. She laughed. 
 " See," he added ; "give me a chance. Let me search 
 the Ninety-Nine for contraband, that's all I've got 
 to do with, and then I can keep quiet about the 
 rest. If there's no contraband, whatever else there 
 is, I'll hold my tongue."
 
 352 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " I've told you what there is." 
 He did not understand. " Will you let me 
 search ? " 
 
 Joan's eyes flashed. " Once and for all, no, 
 Orvay Lafarge! I am the daughter of a man 
 whom you and your men would have killed or put 
 in the dock. He's been a smuggler, and I know 
 it. Who has he robbed ? Not the poor, not the 
 needy ; but a rich Government that robs also. 
 Well, in the hour when he ceases to be a smuggler 
 for ever, armed men come to take him. Why 
 didn't they do so before? Why so pious all at 
 once ? No ; I am first the daughter of my father, 
 and afterwards " 
 " And afterwards ? " 
 " What to-morrow may bring forth." 
 Lafarge became very serious. " I must go back. 
 Mr. Martin is signalling, and your father is calling. 
 I do not understand, but you're the one woman in 
 the world for my money, and I'm ready to stand by 
 that and leave the customs to-morrow if need be." 
 Joan's eyes blazed, her cheek was afire. " Leave 
 it to-day. Leave it now. Yes ; that's my one 
 condition. If you want me, and you say you do, 
 come aboard the Ninety-Nine, and for to-day be 
 one of us to-morrow what you will." 
 
 "What I will? What I will, Joan? Do you 
 mean it ? " 
 
 " Yes. Pshaw 1 Your duty ? Don't I know
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 353 
 
 how the Ministers and the officers have done their 
 duty at Quebec? It's all nonsense. You must 
 make your choice once for all now." 
 
 Lafarge stood a moment thinking. " Joan, I'll 
 do it. I'd go hunting in hell at your bidding. But 
 see. Everything's cfTanged. I couldn't fight 
 against you, but I can fight for you. All must be 
 open now. You've said there's no contraband. 
 Well, I'll tell Mr. Martin so, but I'll tell him also 
 that you've only a crew of two " 
 
 "Of three, now ! " 
 
 "Of three! I will do my duty in that, then 
 resign and come over to you, if I can." 
 
 " If you can ? You mean that they may fire on 
 you ? " 
 
 " I can't tell what they may do. But I must 
 deal fair." 
 
 Joan's face was grave. " Very well, I will wait 
 for you here." 
 
 " They might hit you." 
 
 "But no. They can't hit a wall. Go on, my 
 dear." 
 
 They saluted, and, as Lafarge turned away, 
 Joan said, with a little mocking laugh, "Tell 
 him that he must surrender, or we'll sink him 
 before supper. 
 
 Laforge nodded, and drew away quickly towards 
 the tug. His interview with Mr. Martin was brief, 
 and he had tendered his resignation, though it was 
 23
 
 354 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 disgracefully informal, and was over the side of the 
 boat again and rowing quickly away before his 
 chief recovered his breath. Then Mr. Martin got 
 a large courage. He called on his men to fire when 
 Lafarge was about two hundred and fifty feet from 
 the tug. The shots rattled about him. He turned 
 round coolly and called out, " Coward we'll sink 
 you before supper ! " 
 
 A minute afterwards there came another shot, 
 and an oar dropped from his hand. But now Joan 
 was rowing rapidly towards him, and presently was 
 alongside. 
 
 " Quick, jump in here," she said. He did so, and 
 she rowed on quickly. Tarboe did not understand, 
 but now his blood was up, and as another volley 
 sent bullets dropping around the two he gave the 
 Ninety-Nine to the wind, and she came bearing 
 down smartly to them. In a few moments they 
 were safely on board, and Joan explained. Tarboe 
 grasped Lafarge's unmaimed hand, the other Joan 
 was caring for, and swore that fighting was the 
 only thing left now. 
 
 Mr. Martin had said the same, but when he saw 
 the Ninety-Nine determined, menacing, and coming 
 on, he became again uncertain, and presently gave 
 orders to make for the lighthouse on the opposite 
 side of the river. He could get over first, for the 
 Ninety-Nine would not have the wind so much in 
 her favour, and there entrench himself, for even yet
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 355 
 
 Bissonnette amply 'multiplied was in his mind, 
 Lafarge had not explained that away. He was in 
 the neighbourhood of some sunken rocks of which 
 he and his man at the wheel did not know 
 accurately, and in making what he thought was a 
 clear channel he took a rock with great force, for 
 they were going full steam ahead. Then came 
 confusion, and in getting out the one boat it was 
 swamped and a man nearly drowned. Meanwhile 
 the tug was fast sinking 
 
 While they were throwing off their clothes, the 
 Ninety-Nine came down, and stood off. On one 
 hand was the enemy, on the x other the water, with 
 the shore half a mile distant 
 
 "Do you surrender?" called out Tarboe. 
 
 "Can't we come aboard without that?" feebly 
 urged Mr. Martin. 
 
 " I'll see you damned first, Mr. Martin. Come 
 quick, or I'll give you what for." 
 
 " We surrender," answered the officer gently. 
 
 A few minutes later he and his men were on 
 board, with their rifles stacked in a corner at Bisson- 
 nette's hand. 
 
 Then Tarboe brought the Ninety-Nine close to 
 the wreck, and with his little cannon put a ball into 
 her. This was the finish. She shook her nose, 
 shivered, shot down like a duck, and was gone. 
 
 Mr. Martin was sad even to tears. 
 
 "Now, my beauties," said Tarboe, "now that
 
 356 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 I've got you safe, I'll show you the kind of cargo 
 I've got." 
 
 A moment afterwards he hoisted a keg on deck. 
 " Think that's whisky ? " he asked. " Lift it, Mr. 
 Martin." Mr. Martin obeyed. "Shake it," he 
 added. Mr. Martin did so. " Open it, Mr. Martin." 
 He held out a hatchet-hammer. The next moment 
 a mass of gold pieces yellowed to their eyes. Mr. 
 Martin fell back, breathing hard. 
 
 " Is that contraband, Mr. Martin ? " 
 
 " Treasure-trove," humbly answered the stricken 
 officer. 
 
 " That's it, and in a month, Mr. Martin, I'll be 
 asking the chief of your department to dinner." 
 
 Meanwhile Lafarge saw how near he had been 
 to losing a wife and a fortune. Arrived off Isle of 
 Days, Tarboe told Mr. Martin and his men that if 
 they said " treasure-trove " till they left the island 
 their lives would not be worth " a tinker's damn." 
 When they had sworn, he took them to Angel 
 Point, fed them royally, gave them excellent liquor 
 to drink, and sent them in a fishing-smack with 
 Bissonnette to Quebec, wJiere arriving, they told 
 strange tales. 
 
 Bissonnete bore a letter to a certain banker in 
 Quebec, who already had done business with 
 Tarboe, and next midnight Tarboe himself, with 
 Gobal, Lafarge, Bissonnette, and another, came 
 knocking at the banker's door, each carrying a keg
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE NINETY-NINE 357 
 
 on his shoulder, and armed to the teeth. And, 
 what was singular, two stalwart police-officers 
 walked behind with comfortable and approving 
 looks. 
 
 A month afterwards Lafarge and Joan were 
 married in the parish church at Isle of Days, and it 
 was said that Mr. Martin, who, for some strange 
 reason, was allowed to retain his position in the 
 customs, sent a present. The wedding ended with a 
 sensation, for just as the benediction was pronounced 
 a loud report was heard beneath the floor of the 
 church. There was great commotion, but Tarboe 
 whispered in the curb's ear, and he, blushing, 
 announced that it was the bursting of a barrel. A 
 few minutes afterwards the people of the parish 
 knew the old hiding-place of Tarboe's contraband, 
 and, though the cure" rebuked them, they roared 
 with laughter at the knowledge. 
 
 "So droll, so droll, our Tarboe there!" they 
 shouted, for already they began to look upon him 
 as their Seigneur. 
 
 In time the cur< forgave him also. 
 
 Tarboe seldom left Isle of Days, save when he 
 went to visit his daughter, in St. Louis Street, 
 Quebec, not far from the Parliament House, where 
 Orvay Lafarge is a member of the Ministry. The 
 ex -smuggler was a member of the Assembly 
 for three months, but after defeating his own 
 party on a question of tariff, he gave a portrait
 
 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 of himself to the Chamber, and threw his seal 
 into the hands of his son-in-law. At the Belle 
 Chatelaine, where he often goes, he sometimes 
 asks Bissonnette to play "The Demoiselle with 
 the Scarlet Hose."
 
 A Romany of the Snows 
 
 I 
 
 WHEN old Throng the trader, trembling 
 with sickness and misery, got on his 
 knees to Captain Halby and groaned, " She didn't 
 want to go; they dragged her off; you'll fetch 
 her back, won't ye ? she always had a fancy for 
 you, cap'n," Pierre shrugged a shoulder and said : 
 
 " But you stole her when she was in her rock-a- 
 by, my Throng, you and your Manette," 
 
 " Like a match she was no bigger," continued 
 the old man. " Lord, how that stepmother bully- 
 ragged her, and her father didn't care a darn. 
 He'd half a dozen others Manette and me hadn't 
 none. We took her and used her like as if she 
 was an angel, and we brought her off up here. 
 Haven't we set store by her? Wasn't it 'cause we 
 was lonely an' loved her we took her? Hasn't 
 everybody stood up and said there wasn't anyone 
 like her in the north ? Ain't I done fair by her 
 always ain't I? An' now, when this cough 's 
 eatin' my life out, and Manette 's gone, and there 
 
 869
 
 360 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 ain't a soul but Due the trapper to put a blister 
 on to me, them brutes ride up from over the 
 border, call theirselves her brothers, an' drag her 
 off!" 
 
 He was still on his knees. Pierre reached over 
 and lightly kicked a moccasined foot. 
 
 "Get up, Jim Throng," he said. "Holy! do 
 you think the law moves because an old man 
 cries ? Is it in the statutes ? that's what the law 
 says. Does it come within the act? Is it a tres- 
 pass? an assault and battery? a breach of the 
 peace ? a misdemeanour ? Victoria So and So : 
 that's how the law talks. Get on your knees to 
 Father Corraine, not to Captain Halby, Jimmy 
 Throng!" 
 
 Pierre spoke in a half-sinister, ironical way, for 
 between him and Captain Halby's Riders of the 
 Plains there was no good feeling. More than once 
 he had come into conflict with them, more than 
 once had they laid their hands on him and taken 
 them off again in due time. He had foiled them 
 as to men they wanted ; he had defied them 
 but he had helped them too, when it seemed right to 
 him ; he had sided with them once or twice when 
 to do so was perilous to himself. He had sneered 
 at them, he did not like them, nor they him. The 
 sum of it was, he thought them brave and stupid ; 
 and he knew that the law erred as often as it set 
 things right.
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 361 
 
 The trader got up and 'stood between the two 
 men, coughing much, his face straining, his eyes 
 bloodshot, as he looked anxiously from Pierre to 
 Halby. He was the sad wreck of a strong man. 
 Nothing looked strong about him now save his 
 head, which, with its long grey hair, seemed badly 
 balanced by the thin neck, through which the 
 terrible cough was hacking. 
 
 " Only half a lung left," he stammered, as soon 
 as he could speak, " an' Due can't fix the boneset, 
 camomile, and whisky, as site could. An' he waters 
 the whisky curse his soul ! " The last three 
 words were spoken through another spasm of 
 coughing. "An' the blister how he mucks the 
 blister!" 
 
 Pierre sat back on the table, laughing noiselessly, 
 his white teeth shining. Halby, with one foot on 
 a bench, was picking at the fur on his sleeve thought- 
 fully. His face was a little drawn, his lips were 
 tight-pressed, and his eyes had a light of excite- 
 ment. Presently he straightened himself, and after 
 a half-malicious look at Pierre, he said to Throng : 
 
 " Where are they, do you say ? " 
 
 " They're at "the old man coughed hard" at 
 Fort O'Battle." 
 
 "What are they doing there?" 
 
 "Waitin' till spring, when they'll fetch their 
 cattle up an' settle there." 
 
 " They want Lydia to keep house for them ? "
 
 362 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 The old man writhed. 
 
 "Yes, God's sake, that's it! An' they want 
 Liddy to marry a devil called Borotte, with a 
 thousand cattle or so Pito the courier told me 
 yesterday. Pito saw her, an' he said she was 
 white like a sheet, an' called out to him as he went 
 by. Only half a lung I got, an' her boneset and 
 camomile 'd save it for a bit, mebbe mebbe ! " 
 
 " It's clear," said Halby, " that they trespassed, 
 and they haven't proved their right to her." 
 
 " Tonnerre, what a thinker ! " said Pierre, mocking. 
 
 Halby did not notice. His was a solid sense of 
 responsibility. 
 
 " She is of age ? " he half asked, half mused. 
 
 " She's twenty-one," answered the old man, with 
 difficulty. 
 
 " Old enough to set the world right," suggested 
 Pierre, still mocking. 
 
 " She was forced away, she regarded you as her 
 natural protector, she believed you her father : they 
 broke the law," said the soldier. 
 
 " There was Moses, and Solomon, and Caesar, 
 and Socrates, and now . . . 1 " murmured Pierre in 
 assumed abstraction. 
 
 A red spot burned on Halby 's high cheekbone 
 for a minute, but he persistently kept his temper. 
 
 " I'm expected elsewhere," he said at last. " I'm 
 only one man, yet I wish I could go to-day even 
 alone. But"
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 363 
 
 "But you have a heart," said Pierre. "How 
 wonderful a heart ! And there's the half a lung, 
 and the boneset and camomile tea, and the blister, 
 and the girl with an eye like a spot of rainbow, 
 and the sacred law in a Remington rifle! Well, 
 well ! And to do it in the early morning to 
 wait in the shelter of the trees till some go to 
 look after the horses, then enter the house, arrest 
 those inside, and lay low for the rest" 
 
 Halby looked over at Pierre astonished. Here 
 was raillery and good advice all in a piece. 
 
 " It isn't wise to go alone, for if there's trouble 
 and I should go down, who's to tell the truth? 
 Two could do it ; but one no, it isn't wise, 
 though it would look smart enough." 
 
 " Who said to go alone ? " asked Pierre, scrawl- 
 ing on the table with a burnt match. 
 
 i" I have no men." 
 
 Pierre looked up at the wall. 
 
 " Throng has a good Snider there," he said. 
 
 " Bosh ! Throng can't go." 
 
 The old man coughed and strained. 
 
 " If it wasn't only half a lung, and I could 
 carry the boneset 'long with us." 
 
 Pierre slid off the table, came to the old man, 
 and taking him by the arms, pushed him gently 
 into a chair. 
 
 " Sit down ; don't be a fool, Throng," he said. 
 Then he turned to Halby : "You're a magistrate
 
 364 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 make me a special constable ; I'll go, monsieur le 
 capitaine of no company." 
 
 Halby stared. He knew Pierre's bravery, his 
 ingenuity and daring. But this was the last 
 thing he expected : that the malicious, railing 
 little half-breed would work with him and the 
 law. Pierre seemed to understand his thoughts, 
 for he said : " It is not for you. I am sick for 
 adventure, and then there is mademoiselle such 
 a finger she has for a ven'son pudding." 
 
 Without a word Halby wrote on a leaf in his 
 notebook, and presently handed the slip to 
 Pierre. "That's your commission as a special 
 constable," he said, "and here's the seal on it" 
 He handed over a pistol. 
 
 Pierre raised his eyebrows at it, but Halby 
 continued : " It has the Government mark. But 
 you'd better bring Throng's rifle too." 
 
 Throng sat staring at the two men, his hands 
 nervously shifting on his knees. "Tell Liddy," 
 he said. " that the last batch of bread was sour, 
 Due ain't no ^ood, an' that I ain't had no relish 
 sence she left. Tell her the cough gits lower 
 down all the time. 'Member when she tended 
 that felon o' yourn, Pierre ? " 
 
 Pierre looked at a scar on his finger and nodded : 
 " She cut it too young ; but she had the nerve ! 
 When do you start, captain ? It's an eighty-mile 
 ride."
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 365 
 
 "At once," was the reply. "We can sleep 
 to-night in the Jim-a-long-Jo " (a hut which the 
 Company had built between two distant posts), 
 " and get there at dawn day after to-morrow. The 
 snow is light and we can travel quick. I have a 
 good horse, and you " 
 
 "I have my black Tophet. He'll travel with 
 
 your roan as on one snaffle-bar. That roan 
 
 you know where he come from ? " 
 
 " From the Dolright stud, over the border." 
 "That's wrong. He come from Greystop's 
 paddock, where my Tophet was foaled; they 
 are brothers. Yours was stole and sold to the 
 Gover'ment; mine was bought by good hard 
 money. The law the keeper of stolen goods, 
 eh? But these two will go cinch to cinch all 
 the way, like two brothers like you and me." 
 
 He could not help the touch of irony in his 
 
 last words: he saw the amusing side of things, 
 
 and all humour in him had a strain of the sardonic. 
 
 " Brothers-in-law for a day or two," answered 
 
 Halby drily. 
 
 Within two hours they were ready to start. 
 Pierre had charged Due the incompetent upon 
 matters for the old man's comfort, and had him- 
 self, with a curious sort of kindness, steeped the 
 boneset and camomile in whisky, and set a cup 
 of it near his chair. Then he had gone up to 
 Throng's bedroom and straightened out and shook
 
 366 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 and "made" the corn -husk bed, which had 
 gathered into lumps and rolls. Before he came 
 down he opened a door near by and entered 
 another room, shutting the door, and sitting down 
 on a chair. A stove-pipe ran through the room, 
 and it was warm, though the window was frosted 
 and the world seemed shut out. He looked round 
 slowly, keenly interested. There was a dressing- 
 table made of an old box ; it was covered with 
 pink calico, with muslin over this. A cheap 
 looking-glass on it was draped with muslin and 
 tied at the top with a bit of pink ribbon. A 
 common bone comb lay near the glass, and 
 beside it a beautiful brush with an ivory back 
 and handle. This was the only expensive thing in 
 the room. He wondered, but did not go near 
 it yet. There was a little eight-day clock on a 
 bracket which had been made by hand paste- 
 board darkened with umber and varnished ; a 
 tiny little set of shelves made of the wood of 
 cigar-boxes ; and alas ! the shifts of poverty to 
 be gay ! an easy-chair made of the staves of 
 a barrel and covered with poor chintz. Then 
 there was a photograph or two, in little frames 
 made from the red cedar of cigar-boxes, with 
 decorations of putty, varnished, and a long panel 
 screen of birch -bark of Indian workmanship. 
 Some dresses hung behind the door. The bed- 
 stead was small, the frame was of hickory, with
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 367 
 
 no footboard, ropes making the support for the 
 husk tick. Across the foot lay a bedgown and a 
 pair of stockings. 
 
 Pierre looked long, at first curiously ; but after 
 a little his forehead gathered and his lips drew 
 in a little, as if he had a twinge of pain. He got 
 up, went over near the bed, and picked up a 
 hairpin. Then he came back to the chair and 
 sat down, turning it about in his fingers, still 
 looking abstractedly at the floor. 
 
 " Poor Lucy ! " he said presently ; " the poor 
 child ! Ah, what a devil I was then so long 
 ago!" 
 
 This solitary room Lydia's had brought back 
 the time he went to the room of his own wife, 
 dead by her own hand after an attempt to readjust 
 the broken pieces of life, and sat and looked at 
 the place which had been hers, remembering how 
 he had left her with her wet face turned to the wall, 
 and never saw her again till she was set free for 
 ever. Since that time he had never sat in a room 
 sacred to a woman alone. 
 
 " What a fool, what a fool, to think ! " he said at 
 last, standing up; "but this girl must be saved. 
 She must have her home here again." 
 
 Unconsciously he put the hairpin in his pocket, 
 walked over to the dressing-table and picked up 
 the hair-brush. On its back was the legend. 
 "L. T.from C. H" He gave a whistle.
 
 368 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 So so?" he said, "'C. H.' M'sieu' le capi- 
 taine, is it like that ? " 
 
 A year before, Lydia had given Captain Halby 
 a dollar to buy her a hair-brush at Winnipeg, and 
 he had brought her one worth ten dollars. She 
 had beautiful hair, and what pride she had in 
 using this brush ! Every Sunday morning she 
 spent a long time in washing, curling, and brushing 
 her hair, and every night she tended it lovingly, 
 so that it was a splendid rich brown like her eye, 
 coiling nobly above her plain, strong face with its 
 good colour. 
 
 Pierre, glancing in the glass, saw Captain 
 Halby's face looking over his shoulder. It startled 
 him, and he turned round. There was the face 
 looking out from a photograph that hung on 
 the wall in the recess where the bed was. He 
 noted now that the likeness hung where the girl 
 could see it the last thing at night and the first 
 thing in the morning. 
 
 "So far as that, eh?" he said. "And m'sieu' 
 is a gentleman, too. We shall see what he will 
 do : he has his chance now once for all." 
 
 He turned, came to the door, softly opened it, 
 passed out and shut it, then descended the stairs, 
 and in half an hour was at the door with Captain 
 Halby, ready to start. It was an exqusite winter 
 day, even in its bitter coldness. The sun was 
 shining clear and strong, all the plains glistened
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 369 
 
 and shook like quicksilver, and the vast blue cup 
 of sky seemed deeper than it had ever been. But 
 the frost ate the skin like an acid, and when Throng 
 came to the door Pierre drove him back instantly 
 from the air. 
 
 " I only wanted to say to Liddy," hacked 
 the old man, " that I'm thinkin' a little m'lasses 'd 
 kinder help the boneset an' camomile. Tell her 
 that the cattle '11 all be hers an' the house, an' 
 I ain't got no one but " 
 
 But Pierre pushed him back and shut the door, 
 saying : " I'll tell her what a fool you are, Jimmy 
 Throng." 
 
 The old man, as he sat down awkwardly in his 
 chair, with Due stolidly lighting his pipe and 
 watching him, said to himself: "Yes, I be a durn 
 fool ; I be, I be 1 " over and over again. And when 
 the dog got up from near the stove and came near 
 to him, he added : " I be, Touser ; I be a durn fool, 
 for I ought to ha' stole two or three, an' then I'd 
 not be alone, an' nothin' but sour bread an' pork to 
 eat I ought to ha' stole three." 
 
 "Ah, Manette ought to have give you some 
 of your own, it's true, that ! " said Due stolidly. 
 " You never was a real father, Jim." 
 
 " Liddy got to look like me ; she got to look 
 like Manette and me, I tell ye !" said the old man 
 
 hoarsely. 
 
 Due laughed in his stupid way. *Look like 
 
 24
 
 370 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 you? Look like you, Jim, with a face to turn 
 milk sour? Ho, ho !" 
 
 Throng rose, his face purple with anger, and 
 made as if to catch Due by the throat, but a fit 
 of coughing seized him, and presently blood 
 showed on his lips. Due with a rough gentleness 
 wiped off the blood and put the whisky-and-herbs 
 to the sick man's lips, saying in a fatherly way : 
 
 " For why you do like that ? You're a fool, 
 Jimmy !" 
 
 " I be, I be," said the old man in a whisper, and 
 let his hand rest on Due's shoulder. 
 
 " I'll fix the bread sweet next time, Jimmy." 
 
 " No, no," said the husky voice peevishly. 
 " She'll do it Liddy '11 do it. Liddy's comin'." 
 
 " All right, Jimmy. All right." 
 
 After a moment Throng shook his head feebly 
 and said, scarcely above a whisper : 
 
 " But I be a durn fool when she's not here." 
 
 Due nodded and gave him - more whisky and 
 herbs. 
 
 " My feet's cold," said the old man, and Due 
 wrapped a bearskin round his legs. 
 
 ii ' 
 
 For miles Pierre and Halby rode without a word. 
 Then they got down and walked for a couple of 
 miles, to bring the blood into their legs again.
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 371 
 
 " The old man goes to By-by bientot" said Pierre 
 at last. 
 
 " You don't think he'll last long?" 
 
 " Maybe ten days ; maybe one. If we don't 
 get the girl, out goes his torchlight straight" 
 
 " She's been very good to him." 
 
 " He's been on his knees to her all her life." 
 
 " There'll be trouble out of this, though." 
 
 " Pshaw ! The girl is her own master." 
 
 " I mean, someone will probably get hurt over 
 there." He nodded in the direction of Fort 
 O'Battle. 
 
 " That's in the game. The girl is worth fight- 
 ing for, eh ? " 
 
 " Of course, and the law must protect her. It's 
 a free country." 
 
 " So true, my captain," murmured Pierre drily. 
 " It is wonderful what a man will do for the law." 
 
 The tone struck Halby. Pierre was scanning 
 the horizon abstractedly. 
 
 " You are always hitting at the law," he said. 
 " Why do you stand by it now ? " 
 
 " For the same reason as yourself." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " She has your picture in her room, she has my 
 lucky dollar in her pocket." 
 
 Halby's face flushed, and then he turned and 
 looked steadily into Pierre's eyes. 
 
 We'd better settle this thing at once. If you're
 
 372 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 going to Fort O'Battle because you've set your 
 fancy there, you'd better go back now. That's 
 straight. You and I can't sail in the same boat. 
 I'll go alone, so give me the pistol." 
 
 Pierre laughed softly, and waved the hand back. 
 
 " T'sh ! What a high-cock-a-lorum 1 You want 
 to do it all yourself to fill the eye of the girl 
 alone, and be tucked away to By-by for your 
 pains mais, quelle folie / See : you go for law 
 and love; I go for fun and Jimmy Throng. The 
 girl? Pshaw! she would come out right in the 
 end, without you or me. But the old man with 
 half a lung that's different. He must have sweet 
 bread in his belly when he dies, and the girl must 
 make it for him. She shall brush her hair with 
 the ivory brush by Sunday morning." 
 
 Halby turned sharply. 
 
 " You've been spying," he said. " You've been 
 in her room you " 
 
 Pierre put out his hand and stopped the word 
 on Halby's lips. 
 
 " Slow, slow," he said ; " we are both police 
 to-day. Voila! we must not fight. There is 
 Throng and the girl to think of." Suddenly, with 
 a soft fierceness, he added : " If I looked in her 
 room, what of that? In all the north is there a 
 woman to say I wrong her? No. Well, what if 
 I carry her room in my eye ; does that hurt her 
 or you ? "
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 373 
 
 Perhaps something of the loneliness of the out- 
 law crept into Pierre's voice for an instant, for 
 Halby suddenly put a hand on his shoulder and 
 said : " Let's drop the thing, Pierre." 
 Pierre looked at him musingly. 
 " When Throng is put to By-by what will you 
 do ? " he said. 
 
 " I will marry her, if she'll have me," 
 " But she is prairie-born, and you ! " 
 " I'm a prairie-rider." 
 
 After a moment Pierre said, as if to himself: 
 " So quiet and clean, and the print calico and 
 muslin, and the ivory brush ! " 
 
 It is hard to say whether he was merely working 
 on Halby that he be true to the girl, or was him- 
 self soft-hearted for the moment. He had a curious 
 store of legend and chanson, and he had the French- 
 man's power of applying them, though he did it 
 seldom. But now he said in a half monotone : 
 
 " Have you seen the way I have built my nest ? 
 
 (0 brave and tall is the Grand Seigneur I) 
 I have trailed the East, I have searched the West, 
 
 (O clear of eye is the Grand Seigneur /) 
 From South and North I have brought the best : 
 The feathers fine from an eagle's crest, 
 The silken threads from a prince's vest, 
 The warm rose-leaf from a maiden's breast- 
 
 (0 long he bideth, the Grand Seigneur). 
 
 They had gone scarce a mile farther when 
 Pierre, chancing to turn round, saw a horseman
 
 374 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 riding hard after them. They drew up, and soon 
 the man a Rider of the Plains was beside them. 
 He had stopped at Throng's to find Halby, and 
 had followed them. Murder had been committed 
 near the border, and Halby was needed at once. 
 Halby stood still, numb with distress, for there 
 was Lydia. He turned to Pierre in dismay. 
 Pierre's face lighted up with the spirit of fresh 
 adventure. Desperate enterprises roused him ; 
 the impossible had a charm for him. 
 
 " I will go to Fort O'Battle," he said. " Give 
 me another pistol." 
 
 " You cannot do it alone," said Halby, hope, 
 however, in his voice. 
 
 " I will do it, or it will do me, voila I " Pierre 
 replied. 
 
 Halby passed over a pistol. 
 
 " I'll never forget it, on my honour, if you do 
 it," he said. 
 
 Pierre mounted his horse and said, as if a 
 thought had struck him : "If I stand for the law 
 in this, will you stand against it some time for 
 me?" 
 
 Halby hesitated, then said, holding out his 
 hand, " Yes, if it's nothing dirty." 
 
 Pierre smiled. "Clean tit for clean tat," he 
 said, touching Halby's fingers, and then, with a 
 gesture and an au revoir, put his horse to the 
 canter, and soon a surf of snow was rising at two
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 375 
 
 points on the prairie, as the Law trailed south and 
 east 
 
 That night Pierre camped in the Jim-a-long- 
 Jo, finding there firewood in plenty, and Tophet 
 was made comfortable in the lean-to. Within 
 another thirty hours he was hid in the woods 
 behind Fort O'Battle, having travelled nearly all 
 night. He saw the dawn break and the beginning 
 of sunrise as he watched the Fort, growing every 
 moment colder, while his horse trembled and whin- 
 nied softly, suffering also. At last he gave a little 
 grunt of satisfaction, for he saw two men come 
 out of the Fort and go to the corral. He hesitated 
 a minute longer, then said : " I'll not wait," patted 
 his horse's neck, pulled the blanket closer round 
 him, and started for the Fort. He entered the 
 yard it was empty. He went to the door of the 
 Fort, opened it, entered, shut it, locked it softly, and 
 put the key in his pocket. Then he passed through 
 into a room at the end of the small hallway. 
 Three men rose from seats by the fire as he did 
 so, and one said : " Hullo 1 who're you ? " Another 
 added : " It's Pretty Pierre." 
 
 Pierre looked at the table laid for breakfast, and 
 said : " Where's Lydia Throng?" 
 
 The elder of the three brothers replied : " There's 
 no Lydia Throng here. There's Lydia Bontoff, 
 though, and in another week she'll be Lydia 
 something else."
 
 376 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 " What does she say about it herself? " 
 
 " You've no call to know." 
 
 " You stole her, forced her from Throng's her 
 father's house." 
 
 " She wasn't Throng's ; she was a Bontoff sister 
 of us." 
 
 "Well, she says Throng, and Throng 'tis got to be." 
 
 " What have you got to say about it ? " 
 
 At that moment Lydia appeared at the door 
 leading- from the kitchen. 
 
 " Whatever she has to say," answered Pierre. 
 
 " Who're you talking for ? " 
 
 " For her, for Throng, for the law." 
 
 " The law by gosh, that's good I You, you 
 darned gambler ; you scum ! " said Caleb, the 
 brother who knew him. 
 
 Pierre showed all the intelligent, resolute cool- 
 ness of a trained officer of the law. He heard 
 a little cry behind him, and stepping sideways, 
 and yet not turning his back on the men, he saw 
 Lydia. 
 
 " Pierre ! Pierre ! " she said in a half-frightened 
 way, yet with a sort of pleasure lighting up her 
 face; and she stepped forward to him. One of 
 the brothers was about to pull her away, but 
 Pierre whipped out his commission. " Wait," he 
 said. " That's enough. I'm for the law ; I belong 
 to the mounted police. I have come for the girl 
 you stole."
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 377 
 
 The elder brother snatched the paper and read. 
 Then he laughed loud and long. " So you've 
 come to fetch her away," he said, " and this is how 
 you do it ! " he shook the paper. " Well, by 
 suddenly he stopped. " Come," he said, " have a 
 drink, and don't be a dam' fool. She's our sister, 
 old Throng stole her, and she's goin' to marry 
 our partner. Here, Caleb, fish out the brandy- 
 wine," he added to his younger brother, who went 
 to a cupboard and brought the bottle. 
 
 Pierre, waving the liquor away, said quietly to 
 the girl : " You wish to go back to your father, to 
 Jimmy Throng?" He then gave her Throng's 
 message, and added : " He sits there rocking in the 
 big chair and coughing coughing ! and then 
 there's the picture on the wall upstairs and the 
 little ivory brush " 
 
 She put out her hands towards him. "I hate 
 them all here," she said. " I never knew them. 
 They forced me away. I have no father but 
 Jimmy Throng. I will not stay," she flashed 
 out in sudden anger to the others ; " I'll kill^myself 
 and all of you before I marry that Borotte." 
 
 Pierre could h :ar a man tramping about upstairs 
 Caleb knocked on the stove-pipe, and called to him 
 to come down. Pierre guessed it was Borotte. 
 This would add one more factor to the game, 
 must move at once. He suddenly slipped a pis 
 into the girl's hand, and with a quick word 1
 
 378 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 stepped towards the door. The elder brother 
 sprang between which was what he looked for. 
 By this time every man had a weapon showing, 
 snatched from wall and shelf. 
 
 Pierre was cool. He said : " Remember, I am 
 for the law. I am not one man. You are thieves 
 now ; if you fight and kill, you will get the rope, 
 every one. Move from the door, or I'll fire. The 
 girl comes with me." He had heard a door open 
 behind him, now there was an oath and a report, 
 and a bullet grazed his cheek and lodged in the 
 wall beyond. He dared not turn round, for the 
 other men were facing him. He did not move, but 
 the girl did. " Coward ! " she said, and raised her 
 pistol at Borotte, standing with her back against 
 Pierre's. 
 
 There was a pause, in which no one stirred, and 
 then the girl, slowly walking up to Borotte, her 
 pistol levelled, said : " You low coward to shoot 
 a man from behind ; and you want to be a decent 
 girl's husband ! These men that say they're my 
 brothers are brutes, but you're a sneak. If you 
 stir a step I'll fire." 
 
 The cowardice of Borotte was almost ridiculous. 
 He dared not harm the girl, and her brothers could 
 not prevent her harming him. Here there came a 
 knocking at the front door. The other brothers 
 had come, and found it locked. Pierre saw the 
 crisis, and acted instantly. " The girl and I we
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 379 
 
 will fight you to the end," he said, "and then 
 what's left of you the law will fight to the end. 
 Come," he added, " the old man can't live a week. 
 When he's gone then you can try again. She will 
 have what he owns. Quick, or I arrest you all, and 
 then" 
 
 " Let her go," said Borotte ; "it ain't no use." 
 
 Presently the elder brother broke out laughing. 
 " Damned if I thought the girl had the pluck, an' 
 damned if I thought Borotte was a crawler. Put 
 an eye out of him, Liddy, an' come to your brother's 
 arms. Here," he added to the others, "up with 
 your popguns ; this shindy's off; and the girl goes 
 back till the old man tucks up. Have a drink," he 
 added to Pierre, as he stood his rifle in a corner 
 and came to the table. 
 
 In half an hour Pierre and the girl were on their 
 way, leaving Borotte quarrelling with the brothers, 
 and all drinking heavily. The two arrived at 
 Throng's late the next afternoon. There had been 
 a slight thaw during the day, and the air was almost 
 soft, water dripping from the eaves down the long 
 icicles. 
 
 When Lydia entered, the old man was dozing in 
 his chair. The sound of an axe out behind the 
 house told where Due was. The whisky-and -herbs 
 was beside the sick man's chair, and his feet were 
 wrapped about with bearskins. The girl made a 
 little gesture of pain, and then stepped softly over
 
 380 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 and, kneeling, looked into Throng's face. The lips 
 were moving. 
 
 " Dad," she said, " are you asleep ? " 
 
 " I be a durn fool, I be," he said in a whisper, and 
 then he began to cough. She took his hands. They 
 were cold, and she rubbed them softly. " I feel so 
 a'mighty holler," he said, gasping, " an' that bread's 
 sour agin." He shook his head pitifully. 
 
 His eyes at last settled on her, and he recognised 
 her. He broke into a giggling laugh ; the surprise 
 was almost too much for his feeble mind and body. 
 His hands reached and clutched hers. "Liddy! 
 Liddy ! " he whispered, then added peevishly, " the 
 bread's sour, an' the boneset and camomile's no 
 good. . . . Ain't to-morrow bakin'-day ? " he 
 added. 
 
 " Yes, dad," she said, smoothing his hands. 
 
 " What danged liars they be Liddy ! You're 
 my gel, ain't ye ? " 
 
 " Yes, dad. I'll make some boneset liquor now." 
 
 " Yes, yes," he said, with childish eagerness and 
 a weak, wild smile. " That's it that's it." 
 
 She was about to rise, but he caught her shoulder. 
 "I bin a good dad to ye, hain't I, Liddy?" he 
 whispered. 
 
 " Always." 
 
 " Never had no ma but Manette, did ye?" 
 
 " Never, dad." 
 
 " What danged liars they be ! " he said, chuckling.
 
 A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS 381 
 
 She kissed him, and moved away to the fire to 
 pour hot water and whisky on the herbs. 
 
 His eyes followed her proudly, shining like wet 
 glass in the sun. He laughed such a wheezing, 
 soundless laugh 1 
 
 " He ! he ! he ! I ain't no durn fool bless 
 the Lord ! " he said. 
 
 Then the shining look in his eyes became a grey 
 film, and the girl turned round suddenly, for the 
 long, wheezy breathing had stopped. She ran to 
 him, and, lifting up his head, saw the look that 
 makes even the fool seem wise in his cold stillness. 
 Then she sat down on the floor, laid her head 
 against the arm of his chair, and wept 
 
 It was very quiet inside. From without there 
 came the twang of an axe, and a man's voice talk- 
 ing to his horse. When the man came in, he lifted 
 the girl up, and, to comfort her, bade her go look 
 at a picture hanging in her little room. After she 
 was gone he lifted the body, put it on a couch, and 
 cared for it.
 
 The Plunderer 
 
 IT was no use : men might come and go before 
 her, but Kitty Cline had eyes for only one 
 man. Pierre made no show of liking her, and 
 thought, at first, that hers was a passing fancy. He 
 soon saw differently. There was that look in her 
 eyes which burns conviction as deep as the furnace 
 from which it comes : the hot, shy, hungering look 
 of desire ; most childlike, painfully infinite. He 
 would rather have faced the cold mouth of a pistol ; 
 for he felt how it would end. He might be beyond 
 wish to play the lover, but he knew that every man 
 can endure being loved. He also knew that some 
 are possessed a dream, a spell, what you will for 
 their life long. Kitty Cline was one of these. 
 
 He thought he must go away, but he did not 
 From the hour he decided to stay misfortune began. 
 Willie Haslam, the clerk at the Company's Post, 
 had learned a trick or two at cards in the east, and 
 imagined that he could, as he said himself, "roast 
 the cock o'the roost" meaning Pierre. He did so 
 for one or two evenings, and then Pierre had a 
 sudden increase of luck (or design), and the lad. 
 
 382
 
 THE PLUNDERER 383 
 
 seeing no chance of redeeming the I O U, represent- 
 ing two years' salary, went down to the house where 
 Kitty Cline lived, and shot himself on the door- 
 step. 
 
 He had had the misfortune to prefer Kitty to the 
 other girls at Guidon Hill though Nellie Sanger 
 would have been as much to him, if Kitty had been 
 easier to win. The two things together told hard 
 against Pierre. Before, he might have gone ; in the 
 face of difficulty he certainly would not go. Willie 
 Haslam's funeral was a public function: he was 
 young, innocent-looking, handsome, and the people 
 did not know what Pierre would not tell now that 
 he had cheated grossly at cards. Pierre was sure, 
 before Liddall, the surveyor, told him, that a move- 
 ment was apace to give him trouble possibly 
 
 fatal. 
 
 "You had better go," said Liddall; "there's no 
 use tempting Providence." 
 
 "They are tempting the devil," was the cool 
 reply ; " and that is not all joy, as you shall see." 
 
 He stayed. For a time there was no demonstra- 
 tion on either side. He came and went through the 
 streets, and was found at his usual haunts, to 
 observers as cool and nonchalant as ever. He was 
 a changed man, however. He never got away from 
 the look in Kitty Cline's eyes. He felt the thing 
 wearing on him, and he hesitated to speculate on 
 the result ; but he knew vaguely that it would end
 
 384 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 in disaster. There is a kind of corrosion which eats 
 the granite out of the blood, and leaves fever. 
 
 " What is the worst thing that can happen a man, 
 eh ? " he said to Liddall one day, after having spent 
 a few minutes with Kitty Cline. 
 
 Liddall was an honest man. He knew the world 
 tolerably well. In writing once to his partner in 
 Montreal he had spoken of Pierre as " an admirable, 
 interesting scoundrel." Once when Pierre called 
 him "mon ami" and asked him to come and spend 
 an evening in his cottage, he said : 
 
 " Yes, I will go. But pardon me not as your 
 friend. Let us be plain with each other. I never 
 met a man of your stamp before " 
 
 " A professional gambler yes ? Bien ? " 
 
 " You interest me ; I like you ; you have great 
 cleverness " 
 
 " A priest once told me I had a great brain 
 there is a difference. Well ? " 
 
 " You are like no man I ever met before. Yours 
 is a life like none I ever knew. I would rather talk 
 with you than with any other man in the country, 
 and yet " 
 
 " And yet you would not take me to your home ? 
 That is all right. I expect nothing. I accept the 
 terms. I know what I am and what you are. I 
 like men who are square. You would go out of 
 your way to do me a good turn." 
 
 It was on his tongue to speak of Kitty Cline, but
 
 THE PLUNDERER 385 
 
 he hesitated : it was not fair to the girl, he thought, 
 though what he had intended was for her good. 
 He felt he had no right to assume that Liddall 
 knew how things were. The occasion slipped by. 
 
 But the same matter had been in his mind when, 
 later, he asked, " What is the worst thing that can 
 happen to a man ? " 
 
 Liddall looked at him long, and then said : " To 
 stand between two fires." 
 
 Pierre smiled: it was an answer after his own 
 heart. Liddall remembered it very well in the 
 future. 
 
 " What is the thing to do in such a case ? " Pierre 
 asked. 
 
 " It is not good to stand still." 
 
 " But what if you are stunned, or do not care?" 
 
 "You should care. It is not wise to strain a 
 situation." 
 
 Pierre rose, walked up and down the room once 
 or twice, then stood still, his arms folded, and spoke 
 in a low tone. " Once in the Rockies I was lost. 
 I crept into a cave at night. I knew it was the nest 
 of some wild animal ; but I was nearly dead with 
 hunger and fatigue. I fell asleep. When I woke 
 it was towards morning I saw two yellow stars 
 glaring where the mouth of the cave had been. 
 They were all hate : like nothing you could imagine: 
 passion as it is first made yes. There was also a 
 rumbling sound. It was terrible, and yet I was not 
 25
 
 386 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 scared. Hate need not disturb you. I am a quick 
 shot. I killed that mountain lion, and I ate the 
 haunch of deer I dragged from under her ..." 
 
 He turned now, and, facing the doorway, looked 
 out upon the village, to the roof of a house which 
 they both knew. " Hate," he said, " is not the most 
 wonderful thing. I saw a woman look once as 
 though she could lose the whole world and her own 
 soul. She was a good woman. The man was bad 
 most : he never could be anything else. A look 
 like that breaks the nerve. It is not amusing. In 
 time the man goes to pieces. But before that comes 
 he is apt to do strange things. Eh, so ! " 
 
 He sat down, and, with his finger, wrote mus- 
 ingly in the dust upon the table. 
 
 Liddall looked keenly at him, and replied more 
 brusquely than he felt : " Do you think it fair to 
 stay fair to tiert" 
 
 " What if I should take her with me ? M Pierre 
 flashed a keen, searching look after the words. 
 
 " It would be useless devilry." 
 
 " Let us drink," said Pierre, as he came to his 
 feet quickly : " then for the House of Lords " (the 
 new and fashionable tavern). 
 
 They separated in the street, and Pierre went to 
 the House of Lords alone. He found a number of 
 men gathered before a paper pasted on a pillar of 
 the verandah. Hearing his own name, he came 
 nearer. A ranchman was reading aloud an article
 
 THE PLUNDERER 387 
 
 from a newspaper printed two hundred miles away. 
 The article was headed, " A Villainous Plunderer." 
 It had been written by someone at Guidon Hill. 
 All that was discreditable in Pierre's life it set forth 
 with rude clearness ; he was credited with nothing 
 pardonable. In the crowd there were mutterings 
 unmistakable to Pierre. He suddenly came among 
 them, caught a revolver from his pocket, and shot 
 over the reader's shoulder six times into the pasted 
 strip of newspaper. 
 
 The men dropped back. They were not pre- 
 pared for warlike measures at the moment. Pierre 
 leaned his back against the pillar and waited. 1 1 is 
 silence and coolness, together with an iron fierceness 
 in his face, held them from instant demonstration 
 against him ; but he knew that he must face active 
 peril soon. He pocketed his revolver and went up 
 the hill to the house of Kitty Cline's mother. It 
 was the first time he had ever been there. At the 
 door he hesitated, but knocked presently, and was 
 admitted by Kitty, who, at sight of him, turned 
 faint with sudden joy, and grasped the lintel to 
 steady herself. 
 
 Pierre quietly caught her about the waist, and 
 shut the door. She recovered, and gently dis- 
 engaged herself. He made no further advance, and 
 they stood looking at each other for a minute: he, 
 as one who had come to look at something good he 
 was never to see again ; she, as at something she
 
 388 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 hoped to see for ever. They had never before been 
 where no eyes could observe them. He ruled his 
 voice to calmness. 
 
 " I am going away," he said, " and I have come 
 to say good-bye." 
 
 Her eyes never wavered from his. Her voice was 
 scarce above a whisper. 
 
 " Why do you go ? Where are you going ? " 
 
 " I have been here too long. I am what they 
 call a villain and a plunderer. I am going to 
 mon Dieu y I do not know." He shrugged his 
 shoulders, and smiled with a sort of helpless disdain. 
 
 She leaned her hands on the table before her. 
 Her voice was still that low, clear murmur. 
 
 " What people say doesn't matter." She staked 
 her all upon her words. She must speak them, 
 though she might hate herself afterwards. " Are 
 you going alone?" 
 
 " Where I may have to go I must travel alone." 
 
 He could not meet her eyes now ; he turned his 
 head away. He almost hoped she would not 
 understand. 
 
 " Sit down," he added ; a I want to tell you of 
 my life." 
 
 He believed that telling it as he should, she 
 would be horror-stricken, and that the deep flame 
 would die out of her eyes. Neither he nor she 
 knew how long they sat there, he telling with grim 
 precision of the evil life he had led. Her hands
 
 THE PLUNDERER 389 
 
 were clasped before her, and she shuddered once 
 or twice, so that he paused; but she asked him 
 firmly to go on. 
 
 When all was told he stood up. He could not 
 see her face, but he heard her say : 
 
 " You have forgotten many things that were not 
 bad. Let me say them." She named things that 
 would have done honour to a better maa He was 
 standing in the moonlight that came through the 
 window. She stepped forward, her hands quivering 
 out to him. " Oh, Pierre," she said, " I know why 
 you tell me this : but it makes no difference none, 
 I will go with you wherever you go." 
 
 He caught her hands in his. She was stronger 
 than he was now. Her eyes mastered him. A 
 low cry broke from him, and he drew her almost 
 fiercely into his arms. 
 
 " Pierre ! Pierre ! " was all she could say. 
 
 He kissed her again and again upon the mouth. 
 As he did so, he heard footsteps and muffled voices 
 without Putting her quickly from him, he sprang 
 towards the door, threw it open, closed it behind 
 him, and drew his revolvers. A half-dozen men 
 faced him. Two bullets whistled by his head, and 
 lodged in the door. Then he fired swiftly, shot 
 after shot, and three men fell. His revolvers were 
 empty. There were three men left The case 
 seemed all against him now, but just here a shot, and 
 then another, came from the window, and a fourth
 
 3QO AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 man fell. Pierre sprang upon one, the other turned 
 and ran. There was a short sharp struggle : then 
 Pierre rose up alone. 
 
 The girl stood in the doorway. "Come, my 
 dear," he said, " you must go with me now." 
 
 " Yes, Pierre," she cried, a mad light in her face, 
 " I have killed men too for you." 
 
 Together they ran down the hillside, and made 
 for the stables of the Fort. People were hurrying 
 through the long street of the town, and torches 
 were burning, but they came by a roundabout to 
 the stables safely. Pierre was about to enter, 
 when a man came out. It was Liddall. He kept 
 his horses there, and he had saddled one, thinking 
 that Pierre might need it 
 
 There were quick words of explanation, and then, 
 "Must the girl go too?" he asked. "It will in- 
 crease the danger besides " 
 
 " I am going wherever he goes," she interrupted 
 hoarsely ; " I have killed men ; he and I are the 
 same now." 
 
 Without a word Liddall turned back, threw a 
 saddle on another horse, and led it out quickly. 
 "Which way?" he asked; "and where shall I find 
 the horses ? " 
 
 " West to the mountains. The horses you will 
 find at Tete Blanche Hill, if we get there. If not, 
 there is money under the white pine at my cottage, 
 Good-bye I "
 
 THE PLUNDERER 3gi 
 
 They galloped away. But there were mounted 
 men in the main street, and one, well ahead of 
 the others, was making towards the bridge over 
 which they must pass. He reached it before they 
 did, and set his horse crosswise in its narrow 
 entrance. Pierre urged his mare in front of the 
 girl's, and drove straight at the head and shoulders 
 of the obstructing horse. His was the heavier 
 animal, and it bore the other down. The rider 
 fired as he fell, but missed, and, in an instant, 
 Pierre and the girl were over. The fallen man 
 fired the second time, but again missed. They had 
 a fair start, but the open prairie was ahead of them, 
 and there was no chance to hide. Riding must do 
 all, for their pursuers were in full cry. For an hour 
 they rode hard. They could see their hunters not 
 very far in the rear. Suddenly Pierre started and 
 sniffed the air. 
 
 " The prairie's on fire," he said exultingly, 
 defiantly. 
 
 Almost as he spoke, clouds ran down the 
 horizon, and then the sky lighted up. The fire 
 travelled with incredible swiftness: they were 
 hastening to meet it It came on wave-like, hurry- 
 ing down at the right and the left as if to close in 
 on them. The girl spoke no word ; she had no 
 fear: what Pierre did she would do. He turned 
 round to see his pursuers: they had wheeled 
 and were galloping back the way they came.
 
 392 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH 
 
 His horse and hers were travelling neck and 
 neck. He looked at her with an intense, eager 
 gaze. 
 
 " Will you ride on ? " he asked eagerly. " We are 
 between two fires." He smiled, remembering his 
 words to Liddall. 
 
 " Ride on," she urged in a strong, clear voice, a 
 kind of wild triumph in it. " You shall not go 
 alone." 
 
 There ran into his eyes now the same infinite 
 look that had been in hers that had conquered 
 him. The flame rolling towards them was not 
 brighter or hotter. 
 
 "For heaven or hell, my girl!" he cried, and 
 they drove their horses on on. 
 
 Far behind upon a Divide the flying hunters from 
 Guidon Hill paused for a moment. They saw with 
 hushed wonder and awe a man and woman, dark 
 and weird against the red light, ride madly into 
 the flickering surf of fire. 
 
 THE END
 
 A 000128451