The Chief of the Ranges: A Tale of the Yukon

CHAPTER XV

THE SPIRIT OF KLOTA

When Owindia left her father's lodge and entered the forest a great dread came upon her. Once she stayed her steps as if uncertain what to do. The wild beating of her own heart was the only sound she heard. She was tempted to turn back and give up the undertaking. But the thought of the promise she had made and what the Chilcats might do if she did not appear nerved her heart and gave her courage to go forward. Down among the trees she moved, then across an open valley, where stretched a long meadow of wild grass. On the farther side was the large rock, which she had mentioned as the place of meeting. Her steps lagged as she approached the spot, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips when she found that no one was there. Taking up her position by the rock, she leaned against it, and looked down the valley. The soughing of the wind was the only sound which fell upon her ears. How lonely it was, and the darkness was fast deepening. Her eyes wandered away among the dim arches of the forest and she fancied she could see dozens of Chilcats hiding among the trees and peering forth upon her. The suspense now became terrible. She could have endured almost anything except this time of waiting.

Just when her patience was about exhausted two shadowy forms glided from somewhere she could not tell, and stood before her. So suddenly did they appear that she started, and with difficulty suppressed a cry of fright.

"Come," was the brief command. "The Chilcat braves will take the Ayana maiden to the chief's son."

There was nothing for Owindia to do but to follow. Her guides led her along the edge of the wild meadow, keeping close within the shadow of the forest. She wondered somewhat as to the wariness of their movements, but asked no questions. The braves walked fast, and the maiden found it hard at times to keep up with them.

The lower part of the meadow terminated at the foot of a steep hill, covered with jack-pines, firs, and dead trees. Up the side they moved, the way becoming more difficult, owing to the underbrush, fallen logs, and the fast-gathering darkness. Having reached the summit they paused a moment to rest. Then descending the opposite side, they ere long came to a ridge of jagged rocks. From the midst of the latter a light pierced the gloom. It was a camp fire, around which several forms were gathered. It did not take them long to reach the spot, and Owindia was glad enough to warm her numb hands before the pleasant blaze. Next she looked around for the chief's son, expecting to recognise his person by the respect which would be paid to him by the others. She saw, however, only a dozen braves, who all seemed of equal importance. The men noticed her questioning look, and interpreting its meaning hastened to explain. The chief's son was beyond the hills with most of the Indians, so they told her, and would arrive at almost any time. They were to keep her until he returned.

Owindia said nothing, but she intuitively felt that they were not telling her the truth. Why were there so few of them hiding on this hillside among the rocks? It was a most unlikely spot for a large band of Indians to encamp. Then she noticed that the two braves who had guided her to the place did not remain long, but took their departure after a few moments' conversation with the rest. She racked her brain in an effort to solve the problem. Little attention was paid to her by the Indians sitting around the fire. Even when she rose to her feet and moved about they appeared not to notice her. She had come of her own free will, and had evidently believed the story they told her about the chief's son. It was therefore unnecessary to keep a strict watch upon her.

Owindia thought much of Natsatt, and wondered if he would ever know what she had done for his sake, and for her own people. What would he think and do when he could not find her at the lodge? He would go there, she was sure of that, and how surprised he would be when she was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he was there now, calling her by name. She listened intently as if expecting to hear his voice. Her heart throbbed with a longing which no resolve could quench. It was sweet even in her misery to feel that his love for her was strong and deep. No matter what her life might be in the future the memory of that time since she had first met her lover would ever remain like a light shining in the darkness.

Thinking thus she glanced toward the braves seated about the camp fire. The chief's son had not yet arrived. What was keeping him? she wondered. Was he not expecting her? Did not the messenger tell him that she was coming; that Owindia, daughter of the Ayana chief, was willing to give herself up to save those she loved? How soon would it be after she met him ere he would lead her and his band back over the mountains to the coast? Would all the warriors be willing to go? she mused. They had come a long way, and to return without driving back the white traders, and punishing the Interior Indians, simply for the sake of an Ayana squaw would be galling to their haughty natures. Some, at least, would rebel she felt certain.

A sudden thought flashed into her mind, causing her to cease her restless pacing, and to remain perfectly rigid, while her eyes stared out wildly into the blackness beyond. It was like the voice of some one standing near. "There is trouble," it seemed to say. "Those Chilcats around the fire are opposed to the action of the chief's son. They have spirited Owindia away, intending to keep her hidden for a time. They have heard what the messenger said. The chief's son is encamped near the Post, and if Owindia does not go to him to-night he will believe that she has changed her mind. He will, accordingly, fall at once upon the white traders, and attack the Ayana people."

Owindia's course now became clear. She must get away as quickly as possible, and hurry to the chief's son. Suppose she should be too late! She had not the slightest doubt about this new idea which had come to her mind. She only wondered that she had not thought about it sooner. She looked toward the fire. The men were sitting as before, talking and paying no heed to the maiden in their midst. They knew nothing of the agitation which was stirring her breast, but imagined that she was waiting impatiently for the arrival of the chief's son.

Owindia continued to move to and fro, but kept steadily edging away from the fire. Farther and farther each time she advanced, until at last with one furtive glance behind her she plunged into the thicket, and hastened up the hill among the tossed and tangled rocks. Her heart beat fast, and occasionally she paused to listen. Hearing nothing she continued on her way. Reaching the top of the hill she dropped behind a thick bush to rest. The Chilcats evidently had not missed her, so she hurried forward down the opposite side of the hill straight toward the meadow which she had so recently left. She did not mind the darkness, and never once did she stumble as she worked her way through the forest without any trail to guide her. Her feet were light even though her heart was heavy. Her one desire now urged her onward. She must reach the chief's son before he began the attack. By going back to the large rock she would be able to direct her course. At length the place was reached and once again she stopped to listen. No sound could she hear excepting the wind in the tree tops. There was no sign of any battle taking place at the Post, and nothing to tell her that the Chilcats were advancing.

Leaving the rock she started forward in the direction she believed the Coast Indians had their camp. It was only a supposition on her part. Nevertheless she must search until she should find them. She was not so certain of her course now, and walked more cautiously. The trees became larger the farther she went and there was less underbrush to impede her progress. Had it been daytime she could have seen some distance ahead. Often she stopped and listened, hoping to hear something to direct her steps. At length she came to a sudden standstill for there right before her the light of a fire fell upon her eyes. Slowly she advanced, and ere long she was able to see many forms gathered around the place. It was a big blaze, and fiery cinders were whirling up into the night, making strange fantastic figures in their flight. The Chilcats had not made the attack. There was some comfort in the thought. But with one fear removed the old one returned. How was she to face that band of Indians? How would they treat her? What would they do to her? How helpless she felt, there in the wilderness, with her enemies so near. How she longed for the strong presence of her father. And her mother, did she know of what her only child was doing? Was her spirit near her this night? she wondered. She believed somewhat that the spirits of the departed were on earth. She had heard it so often on the lips of old Indians that it would have been remarkable if she had not been impressed with the belief.

"Mother, mother," she breathed. "Be with Owindia to-night. Let your spirit strengthen your child in her trouble."

Silently and slowly she approached the Chilcats. She did not hurry as she wished to observe them for a while before they saw her. There was no watch kept so no one opposed her progress or gave warning of her presence. Several large trees were right in front, a few rods from the squatting natives. Behind one of these she glided, and thus obtained a good view of all that was taking place. She beheld one, whom she decided was the chief's son, surrounded by his warriors. His appearance did not appeal to her, and a shiver shook her form as she thought how soon she would be his wife, and therefore his abject slave. The longer she watched the less courage she had. How could she step forth and face those men? What were they talking about in such an animated manner? she wondered, and why were they delaying the attack upon the Post? She could not understand what they were saying, but once she thought she heard the name of Klitonda mentioned. They were evidently talking about her father, and what were they saying? How she longed to leave and flee away from the place back to the Post. She turned her head and looked into the dark forest. How like a friend it seemed to her. It would shelter her from those human wolves, for it had always been her friend, and she loved it. She turned her head slowly and regretfully to look again upon the Chilcats, when an object on her left arrested her attention. It was the form of a man with his back against a large tree, and from his unnatural position she was certain that he was fast bound. The light was dim and uncertain so she was unable to distinguish his face. But something about the figure seemed familiar, especially his large size. Whoever he was he must be a prisoner, she thought, captured by the Chilcats. No doubt they were now discussing his fate as they squatted before the fire. A feeling of pity stole into her heart for this unfortunate captive. Perhaps he was one of the Ayana Indians. Suppose he were her own father! The idea came with a startling intensity. He might have been captured by the enemy and brought into camp. With Owindia to think was to act, so slipping from her concealed position she hurried across the open, fearful lest the Chilcats should observe her. She did not go straight to the tree, but with native instinct made a somewhat circular movement back into the forest and thus reached the tree behind the bound man. The latter could not see her, and if he heard her light step he paid no heed. Carefully Owindia peered around the large bole, and one quick glance was sufficient to tell her that the captive was in very truth her father.

Instinctively her hand slipped to the knife safely concealed within her jacket. She would cut the thongs which bound him fast, and set him free. She was about to stretch out her arm, when she hesitated and lowered the knife. Her father must not know that she was there. He must think it was some one else. Nothing would induce him to leave the place knowing that his own child would be left in the midst of the hated Coast wolves. A thought flashed into her mind, so placing her face close to the tree she whispered so her father was sure to hear:

"The spirit of Klota is near Klitonda. She will cut the thongs and save him from the Chilcats. Do not delay an instant but hurry back into the forest."

This done, with three swift deft strokes she severed the bonds which held him, and the captive was free.

When Klitonda heard the voice, and felt the thongs give way, he had no doubt but that it was Klota's spirit which had come to him in his time of need. Without a moment's hesitation he obeyed the command, and with the agility of a wild-cat leaped to one side and was instantly lost to view amidst the darkness of the forest depths.

No sooner had her father disappeared than Owindia took his place and stood with her back against the tree. All had happened so quickly that if the Chilcats had glanced in that direction they could have hardly detected the brief space of time when no one was standing there. When they did look they beheld what they believed to be the form of the Ayana chief securely bound as they had left him. That he should escape did not even enter their minds. They, therefore, paid little attention to him so engrossed were they with their conversation concerning what they should do with their important captive.

Owindia now determined to wait until the Chilcats should find her, and every moment would give her father time to place a long distance between him and his enemies. The coolness of the night pierced her body, and caused her to shiver and wish for the warmth of the fire. How long would the Indians remain talking? she wondered, and what would they say and do to her when they discovered what she had done? The time dragged slowly by, and her body became very weary. She had endured so much mental strain during the day and evening that she longed to lie down and rest forever. At length, however, a movement took place among the Chilcats. She saw them rise to their feet and advance to where she was standing. It did not take them many seconds to ascertain that something was wrong. They then rushed toward her, caught her by the arms and hurried her over to the fire. A wild babel of voices at once ensued as the truth dawned upon the warriors' minds. They knew they had been outwitted, and by a squaw at that! How could they ever endure such humiliation? They would be the laughing-stock of all the tribes along the coast for years to come. They found the cut thongs lying by the tree, and they needed no words from the maiden to explain who had done the deed.

Owindia stood close to the fire, to every appearance the calmest of them all. With hands clasped before her, and bent head she seemed the very embodiment of an abject slave, willing to obey the slightest command of the most menial of the whole Chilcat tribe. But such an attitude was most deceptive, and not one of the warriors realised the magnificent courage of her heart or the subtle keenness of her active brain. She saw and understood more than they imagined. When at last the confusion had subsided she was rudely pushed before the chief's son, who was standing somewhat apart from the others. He had been watching her most intently, and was mentally comparing her with women of his own tribe. He had heard that she was beautiful, but never until he now set his eyes upon her did he fully comprehend that the half had never been told him. Her flushed face, and the strange light which shone in her eyes added to her loveliness. With savage impetuosity he longed to possess this wonderful creature. What were the spoils of war, the punishing of the white traders when passion was in the balance? He had never been taught the virtue of self-restraint. Even from a child his every wish had been gratified by indulgent relatives. When he grew to manhood none thought of crossing the will of one who in course of time would be chief of the tribe. In war and conquest he delighted, especially with a defeated people who had not the spirit to oppose his exorbitant demands. He was all for self, and friend or foe he would lightly sacrifice in order to accomplish any desire upon which he had set his heart. Arrogant, voluptuous, and conceited through smooth-tongued flattery he knew little or nothing of opposition. That this maiden, even though a chief's daughter, should refuse his slightest behest never once entered his dull mind. Women of his own tribe had ever sought his favour, and his smile or word of approval had been to them like the nectar of the gods. What, therefore, should he expect from a squaw of a conquered people?

"Bamba is pleased to see the daughter of the Ayana chief," he began. "But what has she done? She has set Klitonda free, and does she not fear the anger of the Chilcats?"

"Owindia is not afraid," was the quiet reply. "She is willing to die, if necessary, for the sake of her father, and her own people."

"And has the chief's daughter come to Bamba's camp to be his wife?" the chief's son asked.

"Ah, ah; if he will lead his warriors back beyond the mountains to the coast, and interfere no more with the white traders and the Ayana Indians. If he will do that Owindia will be his wife."

Bamba hesitated before replying, and a deep silence reigned among the Chilcats. Much depended upon his answer. The rebel Indians had returned and were now standing among their companions. When they had missed their captive they had hurried back to the main camp just as Owindia was discovered standing by the tree in her father's place. They were not alone in their desire to attack the whites, but were the only ones who had courage enough to attempt to thwart their leader's design.

"Is it the wish of the Chilcat warriors," Bamba asked, turning to his men, "to return to the coast if the daughter of the Ayana chief will go with them?"

"No, no," came the emphatic response, followed by a confusion of numerous voices. "The Chilcat warriors will not return. Why should the chief's son ask them to do such a thing? They will be laughed at when they go back, and the whole tribe will say that an Ayana squaw turned their heads."

Bamba was astonished at such words, and a hot anger filled his heart. What did his men mean by such action? Never before had they opposed his will, and why should they do it now? He turned angrily upon them.

"Your leader, the chief's son, orders you to go back," he cried. "Refuse if you dare."

"The warriors do refuse," came the answer from several lips. "Let Bamba beware or else his warriors will leave him. They are not papooses. They will fight without him. Let him take the Ayana squaw, and go back to the coast, the rest will stay and fight the white traders."

Bamba was in a rage, and poured forth a torrent of words at his men. But they had no effect upon the determined Chilcats, who merely listened to him with sullen faces. Seeing that he was making no impression but only embittering his warriors against him, Bamba turned toward Owindia who all the time had been standing quietly before him.

"Bamba will answer the Ayana squaw's question in the morning," he said. "He cannot tell her now. But she must stay, for Bamba wants her. She has won his heart. Never has he seen such a beautiful maiden. He will make her his wife at once."

"Owindia will not wait," was the decided reply. "She wants her answer now, and if the chiefs son will not give it to her she will go away at once. Bamba is but a child. He cannot rule his warriors."

With this Owindia turned and started to leave the place. But Bamba rushed forward, and caught her by the arm.

"Stay," he demanded. "The Ayana maiden will never leave until she becomes the chief's son's wife. She shall stay."

Owindia with a quick movement threw off his hand and stepped back a pace or two. The fire of determination shone in her eyes which bespoke danger. Her right hand slipped within the bosom of her dress, and brought forth the sharp pointed knife.

"Keep back," she cried. "Lay another hand upon me and you will feel this. Bamba has deceived Owindia. He promised by his messenger to leave the country and go back beyond the mountains if Klitonda's daughter would become his wife. He cannot do it, for his warriors will not let him. Owindia has done her part, and Bamba must not stop her. If the Chilcats force her to stay she will bury this knife into her own breast before she becomes the wife of Bamba the coward."

Bamba was now furious with rage. He would have seized the maiden, and made her his own by main force. But he feared that deadly knife, and the flashing eyes of the one who held it. At this critical moment the warriors came to his assistance.

"Let not the Ayana squaw fear," the spokesman said. "She must stay here to-night, and then to-morrow she can go back to her own people. Let her not try to escape, for it will be impossible. She will be safe here. No one will harm her, for the Chilcat warriors will protect her with their lives. Klitonda's daughter has a brave heart."

Slowly Owindia's tense arm dropped by her side. Then she replaced the knife within her bosom, and a sigh escaped her lips.

"It is well," she replied. "Owindia will stay to-night. She will trust the Chilcat warriors, but not their leader, the chief's son."

CHAPTER XVI

THE VOICE OF THE DECEIVER

When Natsatt left Owindia, the day they had parted from each other, his heart was full of blissful joy. He recalled every word the maiden had said, as well as her tokens of affection. He entered the Post like one in a dream. How good life was to him, he believed. What joy there was in living when he had so much to live for. He hardly thought of the presence of the Chilcats, as deep passionate love had driven everything else from his mind.

He was rudely brought back to earth when once inside the Post. There he found much activity going on. The men were strengthening the fortification, looking after the guns and ammunition, while several were carrying supplies of water from the river. Some cast surly looks upon Natsatt as he entered, which affected him not in the least. It was only when he met Ranger Dan was his composure shaken, and his dream-castle knocked to pieces.

"Where in the devil have you been for such a length of time?" the Ranger demanded. "The rest of the men have been hard at work, while you have been loafing. Over to see the squaw, I suppose. I brought you into this country to work, and not to mope around like a love-sick fool."

Natsatt's face flushed under his leader's words, and he was tempted to reply in the same coin. He checked himself, however, knowing that anger would be of no avail. He wished to keep on the good side of Dan, especially so now as his companions were turning against him.

"Do not judge too harshly, Dan," he replied. "I admit that I have been neglecting the Post this morning, but perhaps I have done something else which is just as important, if not more so."

"In what way, young man? Making more love to the chief's daughter? That no doubt is more important in your eyes, but not in mine, remember."

"Don't be too sure of that, Dan. Suppose I have learned something for which you have been searching for years? Would you not consider that important?"

"Hey? What is that you tell me? Something important? There is only one thing which is of vital importance to me, and it's not likely you have learned anything about that. Would to God you had!"

"But I have, Dan," Natsatt insisted. "The chief's daughter told me, and I intended to speak to you about it before, but the arrival of the Chilcats drove it out of my mind. It's about Klota."

At that name Dan's face underwent a marvellous transformation. The sarcastic expression disappeared, and an eager light shone in his eyes. A tremor shook his body, and reaching forward he laid a strong hand upon the young man's shoulder.

"Speak, speak, quick! and let me know what you have heard," he demanded in a hoarse whisper. "Is she alive? Is she here?"

"No," Natsatt replied. "She is not here; she is—" His voice faltered, and he was unable to finish the sentence. How could he tell this old man the truth? What effect would it have upon him? Perhaps it would break his heart.

Dan noted the hesitation, and truly read the meaning.

"Dead!" he breathed. "You needn't say the word. I know it already."

He stood for a few seconds looking full into Natsatt's face. In his eyes dwelt an expression the young man had never seen there before. It told of the last abandonment of hope, and the end of all earthly desires. He tottered for an instant, and then sinking upon a bench near by, buried his face in his hands.

"Dead!" he murmured. "My beautiful Klota dead! Is it possible! Is it possible! No flower of the forest was as fair as she. No step was as soft as hers. No eyes ever shone with such a light, and no voice of bird was half as sweet as hers. And so she is dead! The babe I held to my breast; the little one who toddled by my side; the child who roamed with me in the woods is dead. Why did I ever live to learn it? Why did I not die thinking that she was still alive? What has been the use of all my wanderings, heart-aches and longings?"

He paused, and sat for some time lost in thought, a pitiable object of despair. Natsatt did not dare to disturb him, and neither did he wish to do so. That bent head, with the hair so white and thin touched him deeply. He longed to go to him, place his arms about him, and tell him how he sympathised with him in his trouble. But he shrank back at the idea, feeling sure that the sorrowing Ranger would resent such an act. At length Dan lifted his head and looked into Natsatt's face.

"Did the girl tell you how Klota died?" he asked. "Did she give any details?"

"Yes. She said the Chilcats did it."

At this the old man leaped to his feet. His weakness had disappeared. His appearance at this moment caused the young man to step back a pace.

"The Chilcats, you say?" he demanded. "The Chilcats killed my Klota?"

"That is what Owindia said."

"And how did she know? Did any one see them do it? Tell me, quick."

"She saw the deed herself. She was there when it was done."

"God in heaven!" burst from the Ranger's lips. "It must be true. And those brutes killed my only child, my darling Klota, and I was not there to save her! But surely others must have been there besides the girl. How did she escape?"

"Her father arrived, and meted out a speedy revenge to one of the Chilcats, and the other got away. There were only two of them."

"Her father, you say? and who was he?"

"Klitonda, the chief of the Ayana. Klota was his wife, and Owindia is his only child."

At these words Dan stared at Natsatt as if he had not heard aright. The young man seeing his perplexity hastened to explain.

"Do you not understand?" he asked. "Owindia is none other than Klota's daughter. Of her you need not be ashamed, for she is the most beautiful maiden I ever saw."

"Owindia is her name, so you say. And she is beautiful, too. But what beauty can ever equal my darling Klota. But see, laddie, I must look upon her. She is Klota's child, and therefore my child. She must come here at once, and stay at the Post. The Chilcats are prowling around, and we cannot tell what might happen to her. I have lost one, but it is something to find another who might be a true daughter to me in my old age. She must not stay here in the wilderness. I shall take her out to civilisation, and whatever money can do for her it shall be done. That will be something to live for. Will she refuse to go, do you think? Will she care to leave her father?"

"I feel quite sure that she will go," Natsatt replied. "That is, she told me she would go anywhere with me."

"Will go with you," repeated the Ranger. "Then she loves you, and has given you her heart. She will not care for an old man. Education will mean nothing to her, and why should it? Why should one born in this land care for the ways and benefits of civilisation?"

"But she does care, Dan. She has often told me how she longed for other things, and is never tired of hearing about the great world beyond the mountains of the rising sun, as she calls it. She learned much from her mother, and is anxious to know more."

"True, quite true, lad. She would not be Klota's child if she did not wish to learn. My mind was so set upon making money that I neglected to give Klota the education she should have had. I was punished for it. Perhaps now I can make amends with her child. Yes, she must come to the Post. And, let me see, she must have a room all by herself. Where can she stay? Ah, I have it. We will fix up the store. A bed in the farther corner, a table near by, and we will straighten things up a bit. Klota's child shall have the best we have to give, and that will be none too good. Help me, lad, to make the room as cosy as we can, and then you must bring her here!"

Dan was quite enthusiastic now, and the old expression of hopelessness had left his face. He had something to live for. Forgotten for a while were the Chilcats as he and Natsatt set to work to make the store as comfortable as possible. It took them some time to arrange things to Dan's complete satisfaction, and then he stood back, and viewed the room.

"It isn't much after all," he remarked. "If we only had a few pictures to hang on the walls, so they wouldn't look so bare; a looking glass, a few chairs, and some rugs for the floor. But it's all we've got. I guess we'll have to wait until we get outside where we can buy such things."

"Suppose we never go outside?" Natsatt questioned. "Suppose the Chilcats will not let us?"

"Don't you worry about that, lad," was the reply. "What do I care for a pack of measly Indians? Haven't I lived among them all my life? They'll never attack us; they're too cowardly for that. When they see our defence, and some of their men get knocked over, they'll soon beat a retreat. We're snug in here, and can stand a long siege."

"Do not misjudge the Chilcats, Dan," Natsatt answered. "If what I have heard is correct we shan't be rid of them in a hurry. They are great warriors, and are determined to drive us out. They have never been defeated, and are most blood-thirsty and cruel. Klitonda knows all about them, and he has told me many things."

"What you say, lad, may be true, but remember, they have never yet run up against white men with Ranger Dan in charge. I have an old score to pay back now, have I not? Did they not murder Klota? I am just longing to get at them. My blood tingles, and my fingers twitch. I am an old man, but there is the spirit of youth in my veins still. I was somewhat of a fighter in my younger days, and I guess I can fight some yet, especially against the Chilcat murderers. But, there, that will do. We have talked too long already, and it's getting late. You had better hurry off for the maid. I am anxious to see her. In the meantime I shall find out what the men are doing outside. They are inclined to loaf of late, and are quite surly at times. There seems to be something brewing, which I can't altogether fathom. But if they try any of their ugly tricks with me it won't be well with them, I can tell you that."

Natsatt knew full well that there was something wrong with the men, and he was fully aware of the cause. But he did not wish to be a tale-bearer. He, therefore, left the store and made his way over to the chief's abode, while Dan went out to see what the men were doing.

Natsatt was not long in reaching the lodge where he expected to find Owindia. He noted that most of the Indians had left the place, and that those who remained were carrying their few belongings to their canoes preparatory for a speedy departure.

At the chief's lodge no one was to be seen. The robes remained inside, while several kettles were found outside. He called Owindia by name, but received no reply. What had become of her? he wondered. Perhaps she had gone back to the shore where he had found her that day. He started for the river, and had gone but a short distance when he came to the lean-to of Nagu, the medicine man. He did not wish to speak to the creature, and was about to pass when the conjurer suddenly arose from his squatting position and stood before him. Upon his face was an expression of diabolical hatred, and his hands and arms moved to and fro in an excited manner.

"What's the matter?" Natsatt demanded in the native tongue. "Is anything wrong? What do you want? I have nothing to give you."

"Nagu, the great medicine man, wants nothing," was the savage reply. "He would not take anything from the half-breed dog. Why does he come here? Why do the white men come into this country? They will never go out again. The Chilcats will fall upon them, and there will not be one left. Does the half-breed think that he will take away the chief's daughter beyond the great mountains?"

"Yes, the half-breed thinks he will," Natsatt replied. "All the Chilcats on the coast cannot stop him. He is not afraid of them."

"The half-breed's words are big," Nagu rejoined. "But he does not know the Chilcats, and he does not know the chief's daughter. He thinks he does, but he is mistaken."

"What do you mean? I don't understand you," and Natsatt looked keenly into the creature's cunning eyes as he spoke.

"Does the half-breed want to know? Will he like to hear what Nagu can tell him?"

"Yes. What can you say that will trouble me?"

"Nagu can tell much, for he has seen and heard. He saw the Chilcat messenger in Klitonda's lodge. He listened to what was said, and he saw the chief's daughter go away. What does the half-breed think of that?"

"You saw the Chilcat messenger in the chief's lodge, and watched Owindia go away with him," Natsatt repeated in a puzzled manner. "Your words are strange. Do you know what you are saying?"

"Ah, ah, Nagu knows. The Chilcat chief's son sent for Klitonda's daughter. He wants her for his wife."

A great fear now leaped into Natsatt's heart. He felt that he had not heard aright. And yet there could be no mistake. The medicine man had spoken, and what reason had he for doubting his words. All his calmness had left him, and a nameless something overwhelmed him. Owindia gone away to be the wife of a Chilcat! It could not be. He would not believe such a thing about Owindia. It angered him to think that any one would say such a thing about her. He remembered her words that afternoon, and her clinging affection.

"You villain!" he cried. "You lie! Why do you tell such a story to me? Do you think I will believe you. Owindia is not such a creature as you are to turn away from the one she loves."

The medicine man's eyes grew smaller until they became like two narrow slits. His hands and arms ceased their wild movements.

"The half-breed thinks that Nagu lies, does he? Let him think so, then. But he will find out in time, and he will remember that he was told the truth."

"But why should Owindia go to the Chilcats?" Natsatt queried. "Are they not her enemies? Why should she leave her father, and her own people?"

"Nagu has spoken," was the reply. "He has told the half-breed what he has seen and heard. If he does not believe him let him go to the Chilcat dogs and learn for himself."

Natsatt looked for a short time upon the medicine man, and then without another word left him, and went back to Klitonda's lodge. He wished to be alone to think over what he had just heard. Perhaps it was all a base lie. He knew much about the wiles of these northern conjurers. They would stoop to any depth in order to further their evil designs. But what purpose could Nagu have now? Why should he concoct such a story about Owindia? What object could he have in view? But try as he might he could not banish the horrible thought from his mind, that there was much truth in the story. And where was Klitonda? What had become of him? Surely he would not let his daughter go to the Chilcats. He would rather see her dead than that such a thing should happen. Thus the more he racked his brain for a solution of the problem the more mysterious it became.

He stayed for a while at the lodge, hoping that Owindia would appear. But when she did not come he at length made his way slowly back to the Post. He dreaded to tell Dan what he had learned. What would the old man say, and how would he feel? He found him with the men in the large room adjoining the store. The Ranger looked expectantly up as Natsatt entered, but said nothing when he saw that he was alone. He noted the disappointed expression upon his face, and realised at once that something was wrong. He waited, however, until supper was ended, and then drawing the young man into the store questioned him eagerly about the maiden.

And Natsatt told him the whole story just as he had received it from the medicine man.

"I can't understand it," he said in conclusion. "It is not like Owindia. She would never do such a thing. I cannot believe that she would leave me to go to the Chilcats. She is too true for that. And besides, her father would not let her go."

"It is certainly strange," Dan replied. "The medicine man may have invented this lie for some purpose, you can never trust one of those creatures. But speculation won't do us any good. We must find out where the girl is. If she is with the Chilcats, and has gone of her own free will, I don't see that we can do anything. But if they have stolen her away, and are keeping her as prisoner then by heavens! we've got to do something, and the sooner we make a move the better."

"That's my opinion, too, Dan," Natsatt quietly remarked. "Do you think I could stay here all night knowing that Owindia was out there with those devils against her will? We must know the truth at once."

"And what is your plan, lad?"

"With your permission I shall visit the Chilcat camp to-night, find out if she is there, and learn the strength of the Coast Indians. It is certainly important for us to know."

"You are right, you are right," the Ranger mused. "We should know how many there are who have come against us. But it will be a difficult undertaking. However, it can't be helped. You have my consent to go, but be very careful. I don't want to lose you."

CHAPTER XVII

IN THE FOREST DEPTHS

When Natsatt started upon his perilous task he knew how necessary it would be for him to proceed with the greatest caution. He believed that the Post was being watched by Chilcats who were lying in ambush. He, therefore, slipped quietly out of the door in the barricade, and crept by the side of the wall until he came to the river. Along the bank of this he swiftly moved until he had gained the shelter of the forest some distance above. Here he paused and listened most intently. The night was very dark, and he could observe nothing astir. With the greatest care he skirted the edge of the woods, passed the chief's lodge, and down to the wild meadow below. He knew the region well, as he had hunted all over the place, and had a good idea where the Chilcats were encamped. He found it difficult to move without making any noise, and his progress was accordingly slow. He did not cross the meadow as he knew what sharp eyes Indians had. Instead, he made a long detour around the upper end and came down on the opposite side until he reached the rock where Owindia had waited for the Chilcats. Here he stopped to get his bearings, and then began to thread his way to the left through the dark and silent forest. He little realised that he was following the same course, in fact almost the exact route which Owindia had taken but a short time before.

No sense of fear came into his heart as he moved steadily forward. He was so accustomed to the forest that almost instinctively he directed his steps. How far he was from the camp he could not tell, but he believed it to be somewhere straight ahead. He expected that the Chilcats would have a number of men stationed among the trees to give warning in case any one should approach. It would be necessary to escape these if he should ever get close to the main body of Indians. His progress, therefore, became much slower the farther he advanced. Nothing could he observe for some time, and he began to think that after all he might be astray, when a faint glimmer of a light broke through the night. He stood perfectly still for a while, and then step by step he proceeded. Larger grew the light, which he was soon able to tell came from a camp fire. His action became now more cautious than ever. He glided from tree to tree, pausing for a brief space behind each to make sure that no one was near, and that he had not been observed.

Ere long he was but several rods away, and he was enabled to obtain a good view of the whole camping ground. He was surprised not to see a large band of Indians clustered around the fire. But looking carefully he found that they were there lying upon the ground apparently asleep. Only one person could he see sitting before the burning logs, and his heart gave a great leap when he saw that it was Owindia. She was seated upon a stone, her head bent forward, and her eyes fixed intently upon the burning coals at her feet. Natsatt's blood tingled, and his hand closed hard upon his musket. How he longed to rush forward, seize her in his arms, and bear her away. He felt sure that she was not there of her own accord, but had been carried away captive. He was not afraid to face the whole band if it would do any good. But what could he do against such a number of Chilcats. No doubt some of them were asleep, but a few would be awake. He wondered, too, why no watch was kept upon Owindia. No one seemed to notice her, and how easy it would be for her to slip away into the forest and escape. If she only knew that her lover was not far off watching her, he believed that she would make the attempt. But how could he attract her attention without waking the Indians?

A sudden thought flashed into his mind. It was a risky thing to do, but he was willing to make the attempt. Placing his hand beneath his buck-skin jacket he brought forth his little mouth-organ, and raised it to his lips. Then out upon the night air floated a low sweet tune, which he had often played for Owindia, and one she loved most dearly.

No sooner had the first notes sounded out than a weary head by the fire was raised, and a pair of startled eyes searched the dark forest depths. Owindia recognised that sound, and it brought a new hope into her heart. She had never expected to hear it again, and it brought back memories of happy days. Then a great fear came upon her. The Chilcats would hear it, and her lover would be in great danger. Oh, if he would only stop, and go away. Why should he risk his own life for her sake? What could she do to warn him?

It was not long before a movement took place among the sleepers, and head after head was raised to listen to the strange sound which had disturbed their slumbers. But the music suddenly ceased. Natsatt saw what was taking place, and lowered the instrument from his lips. In truth he somewhat relished the wonder he had aroused among the natives, and only with an effort could he resist the temptation of giving them a little more excitement. But he knew that further music would bring them to their feet, and that would mean an end to all his hope of getting Owindia away. He, therefore, watched and waited to see if she would make an attempt to come to him when the Indians were again in slumber deep. That they had taken the music for the song of some unfamiliar bird was quite evident from their readiness to resume their disturbed slumbers.

With Owindia, however, it was different. Her heart was beating wildly, and when the music ceased, and she saw the warriors once more asleep she breathed a sigh of relief. How she longed to leave the fire, and go to Natsatt. But she had given her word that she would remain until the morning, and the Chilcats had promised to take her back. She would keep her promise no matter what the others might do. Lifting her hand she made the motion for Natsatt to go away. She also shook her head as a sign that she could not go with him.

The eager, watchful lover saw the signal, and it puzzled him. What can she mean? he asked himself. It would be very easy for her to come to me now, and why does she not do so? Then the medicine man's story came into his mind. Was there truth in it after all? Had she come to this place of her own free will? But where was the chief's son? He could not see him near her side. Where else would he be if she had become his wife? Perhaps he was waiting to take her back to the coast, that the Indian marriage ceremony might be performed there in the presence of all the tribe. That Owindia did not make any effort to leave the Chilcats and come to him when she knew that he was near, gave him good ground for his suspicion. If such was the case he might as well go back to the Post. There was nothing more for him to do. He could not carry her away by main force, and neither would he attempt it. If she preferred the chief's son to him he would make no further effort to save her. This was one voice which spoke to him. There was another, however, which he could not silence. It told him there must be some reason connected with the affair; that Owindia loved him still, and would gladly flee to his arms for protection if she could. There was something holding her back. There was a purpose in her strange action. It was this idea which stayed his feet, and kept him at his watch amid the trees. He could not take his eyes away from that form crouching before the fire. Why does she not lie down? he asked himself. She must be very weary. At times she would lift her head and look straight toward the concealed lover. He knew that she could not see him, but it thrilled his heart to know that she was thinking of him.

How long Natsatt remained in that one place he could not tell. He only knew that night was speedily advancing, and that the early northern dawn would ere long be breaking upon the far-off mountain peaks. The fire was still burning, for occasionally Owindia had risen and replenished it from a pile of dry wood lying near. Natsatt believed he could see another reason in this besides that of warmth. She evidently dreaded the darkness among those Indians. She needed the fire for protection as well as for comfort.

At length he determined to quit the place and go back to the Post. The Indians would shortly be stirring and it would not be well for him to be found lurking near. But just as he took one long lingering look upon the maiden, and was about to turn away, he saw a form moving slowly forward from the background. Natsatt stayed his steps, and his hand grasped more firmly the musket. As he saw the figure of an Indian emerge into the fire light and bend over the maiden he quickly brought the weapon to his shoulder. But in a few seconds he lowered it and stood watching the scene before him. The Indian had spoken to Owindia and she had risen to her feet, and was facing the brave. What they said Natsatt could not tell, as he was too far away and their voices were low. When, however, a strong arm reached out and was placed around the maiden he had no doubt as to the object of the man's visit. It must be the chief's son, he thought, endeavouring to draw Owindia aside while the others slept. But the maiden had thrown off the arm which had been placed about her, and stood defiantly before the intruder. Suddenly a knife gleamed in Owindia's hand which she held threateningly before her. At this the brave retreated a step, and then in a twinkling of an eye he reached out, gripped the maiden's wrist, and wrenched the shining steel from her grasp.

What would have followed is hard to say had not Natsatt acted upon the impulse of the moment. He longed to shoot the villain where he stood, and if it came to the worst he would be forced to do so. But another idea had come into his mind. He would try the effect of his mouth organ upon the Chilcat brave. Again bringing it forth he placed it to his lips, and produced a series of such plaintive, doleful sounds that the Indian paused and looked wonderingly into the forest. As the notes continued, growing more uncanny all the time, an expression of superstitious fear overspread his face. The whole band of Chilcats by this time were thoroughly aroused, and had leaped to their feet. Trained from early days to believe in strange apparitions, and weird, ghostly inhabitants of forest, mountain, and glen, it was but natural for them to imagine that now they were surrounded by unseen creatures who belonged to this northern region. Had it been a war-whoop which had aroused them from sleep they would have rushed forward with shouts of defiance. Physical courage they did not lack, but what Chilcat brave could face those horrible invisible beings, who only made their presence known by the doleful sounds they emitted from time to time?

On almost any other occasion Natsatt would have been much amused by the consternation he was causing among the proud and arrogant Chilcats. As it was it brought much satisfaction to his heart to see them standing huddled together like a flock of dazed sheep. Where were the glory of warrior, and the thrill of battle in the presence of that unseen power so full of mystery and awe? Owindia alone seemed unaffected by the sounds which were disturbing the stillness of the night. The chief's son had shrunk away from her, and had flung the knife amid the trees that his men might not see what he had been doing. He, too, stood like the rest and listened apprehensively to the wails which were falling upon their ears. It was only when the sounds ceased that the Chilcats aroused from their temporary fright, and began to talk to one another in an animated manner. They remembered how they had been awakened during the early part of the night, when they had imagined it was a northern bird singing among the trees. Now they believed it was the same creature which had been hovering near through the hours of darkness. Several suggested that the white men had much to do with the noise, and that they were exercising some evil power against the Chilcats.

Natsatt, in the meantime had retreated swiftly and silently away from the place. He knew that he could be of no further assistance to Owindia. He had done her one good turn, and had learned the strength of the enemy. After a while he walked less cautiously, for he felt sure that the Chilcats would not attempt to follow. So engrossed was his mind with what he had seen that he forgot all about the braves whom he believed were watching the Post. In fact he had never been certain that any were there; it was only a supposition on his part.

He did not as before skirt the wild meadow but moved boldly across the open. He had gained the opposite side and had plunged again into the forest, when, without the slightest warning a form leaped upon him out of the night. Recoiling as from an electric shock he felt the brush of cold steel against his face, and knew that he had escaped the deadly blow of a hunting axe as if by a miracle. Then with a bound he grappled with his adversary, caught him about the body, and endeavoured to hurl him to the ground. It was no weakling, however, who had thus so treacherously assailed him, but one whose thews were like whips of steel. That he was a Chilcat Natsatt had not the slightest doubt. A burning rage filled his heart, and nerved him to almost superhuman effort. He realised that it was a struggle to the death, and he must not give his opponent the slightest advantage. He must be wary, and reserve his strength as much as possible. Not a word was spoken as there in the darkness they strained and wrestled with each other. The hard panting of the men told of the desperate struggle which was taking place. Backward and forward they reeled and staggered. A small root or a twig tripping one or the other would soon have ended the conflict. But each kept his feet with marvellous dexterity. Presently Natsatt's right hand was brought in sudden contact with the Indian's face, and with a lightning movement his fingers dropped to the coarse throat, and closed. There was no escaping that grip, which never relaxed for an instant. The native endeavoured to tear away that death-dealing clutch, but in vain. The more he struggled the firmer the fingers seemed to press. His breath came in short fitful gasps. His body weakened, his knees trembled, and soon Natsatt was able to force him to the earth, still holding tenaciously to the throat like a determined bull-dog.

Natsatt did not wish to kill the Indian, and in the darkness he could not tell how much injury the fallen man had received. For a few seconds he maintained his merciless grip, and then let his fingers slowly relax. He sat for a while upon the prostrate form, ready any instant should the Chilcat arouse to renew the contest. But the defeated brave exhibited no sign of further wish to fight. That he was not dead Natsatt could tell by the breathing he could now distinctly hear. He might be unconscious, he thought, and will recover later. He wished to leave the place and get back to the Post. But he desired to have a parting word with his opponent, if he were in a fit condition to understand anything.

"Who are you?" he demanded in the Indian tongue, "and what are you doing here at this time of night?"

Receiving no answer to his question, he continued:

"Speak and tell me who you are, or else I will kill you where you lie."

He had no intention of putting his threat into practice; he only wished to make the man speak. And in truth his words had the desired effect, for after a slight pause there rasped forth the one word "Chilcat."

"Ah, ah, so that's who you are," Natsatt remarked with a sneer. "Nice warrior you are, to lie in wait and leap upon a man without giving him a chance. But you found your mistake this time, didn't you? It was not such an easy job after all, was it? Now look here, Chilcat dog that you are, you've met more than your match to-night. I could kill you here and leave your dead body upon the ground, which is what you really deserve. But I'm not going to do that. I want you to go back to your chief and tell them what the white men are like. That they can fight like grizzlies, and know not what it means to be defeated. Tell him, too, that if he wants to attack the Post he will have a harder job than he expected. There are men over there stronger than I am, and if you had got into their clutches instead of mine they would have had you torn to pieces by this time."

The Chilcat made no reply to these words but lay perfectly still as if he had heard nothing.

"Why don't you speak?" Natsatt demanded. "Why don't you say something? I've a sharp knife here in my belt which is just anxious to do more than tickle your ribs. I'm thinking that would make you speak. Maybe it'll be well to have it handy if you try any of your tricks."

"Ugh!" grunted the Chilcat.

"That makes you say something, does it? Well, I want you to say more than that. Now tell me at once, and no fooling about it either. What is Klitonda's daughter doing over there in the Chilcat camp? How did she get there?"

To these questions the Chilcat deigned no reply until he felt the sharp point of steel pressing his side right over his heart. He then gave a struggle, and attempted to rise.

"None of that," Natsatt ordered. "Try it again and I'll drive this knife into your measly carcass up to the hilt. Tell me, did the chief's daughter go to the Chilcat camp of her own free will?"

"Ah, ah," the native replied.

"And did she go to become the wife of the Chilcat chief's son?"

"Ah, ah."

"What did she do that for? Why did she leave her own people to go there? Did not the Chilcats kill her mother? Has she forgotten that?"

"The Ayana squaw wished to save her people and the white traders."

"In what way?" Natsatt queried, while a faint light of comprehension began to glimmer in his mind.

"The chief's son promised to go back to the coast at once if Klitonda's daughter would be his wife," was the reply.

"Whew! I see," broke from the half-breed's lips. "So that's it, is it? And will the chief's son go away now? Will he leave the white traders and the Ayana people alone?"

"The chief's son will not go away," was the slow response. "His warriors will not let him. They wish to drive out the white traders."

"And what, then, will the Chilcats do with Klitonda's daughter? Will they send her back to her own people?"

To this question came no answer, and from his captive Natsatt could learn nothing more. But he had heard enough to give him cause for much thought. His heart thrilled as he mused upon what Owindia had done. She was willing to sacrifice herself to save those she loved. He felt somewhat friendly to this prostrate Indian for what he had told him. It lifted a great weight from his mind. To know that she whom he loved better than life itself had not been untrue to him, but had taken this step with the noblest motive, brought him much joy. But why did she not come to him when she knew he was waiting for her among the trees? he wondered. It was something he could not understand, although he believed now that Owindia did it for some good reason.

At length Natsatt rose slowly from off the Chilcat's body. He still held the knife in readiness lest the native should renew the attack. Away on the mountain tops the dawn of a new day was breaking. The light stole down silently and gradually among the secret forest ways. It showed quite distinctly the form of the defeated Chilcat lying upon the ground.

"Get up," Natsatt commanded, "and go back to your chief, and tell him what has happened to you this night. Tell him, also, to beware of the white men, for they are swift, merciless, and strong."

The Chilcat waited for no second bidding. He leaped to his feet and without stopping to recover his hunting-axe dashed into the forest, and disappeared from view. Natsatt also turned and with the light of triumph shining upon his face walked swiftly back to the Post.

CHAPTER XVIII

LOYALTY

There was no more sleep among the aroused Chilcats after Natsatt left. They spent the remainder of the morning until daylight discussing what they had heard. Various views were given as to the meaning of the strange sounds, but all at length agreed they had something to do with the white men. Owindia remained silent, and listened to the discussion which took place. She watched the Chilcats closely, especially the chief's son, as she felt he could not be trusted. That they had some plan in view for the day was quite certain. They had promised to take her back to the Post, and she anxiously awaited for the time to arrive when they would start. She thought much about Natsatt, and wondered if he was still hiding among the trees. How she longed to be with him in order to tell him everything, and why she had come to the Chilcats. Would he ever know? she questioned with herself, or would he believe that she had been false, and left him because she thought more of the chief's son? She was very tired after her long night's vigil, and the excitement through which she had passed. But there was no opportunity to rest. She did not dare to sleep when the Chilcats were so near. How could she close her eyes when the chief's son was prowling around. She saw him watching her most intently. In fact he seemed to see nothing else.

The Indians had begun to prepare their morning meal when the defeated brave glided into their midst. He was almost exhausted, frightened, and his whole appearance betrayed the desperate ordeal through which he had recently passed. He sank upon the ground before the fire, and for a while refused to say a word. The Indians looked at him and then at one another in astonishment. They associated his pitiable condition with the weird sounds of the night. Had the terrible creature attacked him? What else could it be which could so affect the strongest and most daring warrior of the whole band?

At length his tongue became loosened and he told in a few words his encounter with the half-breed, and his own narrow escape. It cost him much to tell the story of his defeat, and it was easy for his companions to notice the sullen anger which burned in his heart, which expressed itself not only in his eyes but also in the short sharp words he jerked forth.

The whole band of Chilcats was by this time thoroughly aroused. They understood now how they had been deceived during the night. They had been watched by one from the Post, who no doubt had made the startling sounds. It stirred them to a spirit of revenge. How the white traders would laugh at them, and call them papooses. But they would show them by action that they were not cowards. This was the feeling of all the warriors and they gave vent to their wrath in no uncertain language. One Chilcat had been defeated, but the whites would have no cause for sport when the whole band swept upon them. They, therefore, set at once to work forming plans for the intended attack. Some of them drew aside, and spoke in a low voice.

What these latter said Owindia could not tell. She believed, nevertheless, that their conversation had something to do with her, as occasionally they turned their heads in her direction. She had been much interested in listening to the report the defeated brave had brought into camp. She knew without a doubt that the man who had overcome him must be none other than Natsatt. Her heart thrilled at the thought. How she should like to see him to tell him how proud she was of him. Some men would not have spared an Indian who had made such a cowardly attack upon him. It showed to her Natsatt's character in a new light. He was brave, strong, and merciful. Little wonder then that he should seem to a maiden such as Owindia a hero of heroes.

The Indians had eaten their breakfast before the sun had risen above the tree tops. They then began to make ready for some immediate movement. Owindia watched them closely. Not a word had been said about taking her back to the Post. She was tired after the weary night vigil, and she longed for rest. From what she had heard about the Chilcats seeking revenge upon the white traders she began to feel that they had forgotten their promise to her. She must, therefore, find out as soon as possible what they intended to do. The chief's son was standing not far away talking with several braves. Walking quietly up to him she remained perfectly still until he suddenly turned and saw her.

"What does the Ayana squaw want?" he asked, "and why does she come to the chief's son? She has no heart and no eyes for him."

"The Chilcat brave speaks true," was the calm reply. "Owindia has come to save her own people. Her heart is with them, but her body is with the Chilcats. Will the chief's son keep his promise he made to her last night, and take her back to the Post?"

"The chief's son always keeps his word," was the reply. "He will take her back to the Post. But first let the Ayana squaw tell how many white traders there are."

"Owindia cannot tell," came the low response. "The white men are her friends. But let the Chilcats be careful how they come near the Post."

"The Chilcats are not afraid of the white traders," and the leader looked around proudly upon his men as he spoke. "In one night the Chilcats will be within the Post, some of the white traders will be dead, and the rest will go back as prisoners to the coast. The Ayana maiden will go, too. Does she think to get away from the chief's son so soon?"

Owindia's heart sank at these words, though she presented a brave face to the boaster. She felt there was only too much truth in his words, and that the defenders at the Post had a very slim chance of escape against that determined and ruthless body of warriors. They had come a long way, and were not to be easily deprived of their prey.

It was not long before the whole band of Chilcats were ready for departure. They were well armed with muskets they had obtained from the white traders along the coast. They carried pistols, too, sharp knives and hunting-axes. They were a formidable band of men, two hundred strong, of whom a force three times their number might have good reason to fear. They advanced with an easy motion, and scarcely a sound did they make as they threaded the forest straight toward the Post.

Owindia, surrounded by several warriors, including the chief's son, walked some distance behind. She knew from their action that their motive for leaving the camp was not to restore her to her own people or to the white traders. What they had in view she could not guess as no one confided to her the secret.

After crossing the wild meadow the Indians began to spread out to the right and to the left. Ere long all had disappeared among the trees except two who remained with the maiden. These led her straight toward the Post, over the very way she had recently traversed. Reaching the open where the white men would be likely to see them, the two braves placed Owindia in front, while they walked behind keeping very close to each other. The maiden thus protected them, and it was not likely that the defenders of the Post would fire upon a woman. Owindia was then ordered to go forward, and she, thinking at first that they were to fulfil their promise to her, readily obeyed. Her step quickened, and soon she would have increased it to a run had not strong hands been laid upon her when they came within speaking distance of the Post.

"Why does the squaw hurry?" asked the Indian who was detaining her. "Does she think to get away from the Chilcat braves? She is mistaken then, for she must stay here."

"What does the brave mean?" Owindia replied, turning and looking into his face.

"Does not the Ayana squaw speak the white men's tongue?"

"Ah, ah," came slowly from the maiden's lips.

"Speak, then, to the white traders, and tell them to come out to meet the Chilcat braves, and hold a Council here in the open. Say to them that they are many, and the Chilcat warriors who stand here are only two. They bring a message from the chief's son. He does not wish to fight against the white traders. He would be their friend. Let them, therefore, come and talk the matter over with the messengers he has sent. The Ayana squaw must say these words, for though the Chilcat braves who stand by her side cannot speak the words of the white men, they will understand much of what she says. If she fails to speak what is told her she will never see her own people again."

With fast-beating heart, and bent head Owindia listened to the brave's words. She comprehended now the treachery of the Chilcats' design. She thought of the rest of the band who had separated at the wild meadow. The meaning was all clear to her. They were lying in ambush, hidden among the trees not far off, ready to hurl themselves upon the white traders if they fell into the trap which had been laid for them. Her eyes intuitively sought the forest, and she imagined she could see many forms slinking along the edge. The braves noted her look, and read its meaning.

"The warriors are there," said the spokesman. "They are watching, and will know what the squaw says."

"But what are they there for?" Owindia demanded, now looking the Indian full in the face.

"To watch the Council. They wish to be near to see the great white warriors. They have heard much about them, and now desire to look upon them."

At these words Owindia drew herself up to her full height. She was no longer a cringing Indian girl, but a woman thrilled by a nobleness of purpose which could meet suffering and death without a tremor. The white people were in danger. Should she repeat those words and draw them forth the blame would be upon her own head. Natsatt would come, she was sure of that, and how could she see him surrounded by the Coast wolves, and either killed before her very eyes or taken back across the mountains for a worse fate? Would she not be a traitor, and what would her father say? It was not so much through reason as by natural perception and instinct of the wild that she arrived at this conclusion.

"Will the squaw speak?"

The brave's voice startled her, and she glanced quickly toward him.

"Owindia will speak," she replied. "What else is there for her to do?"

"Be careful what you say," came the warning. "Speak only such words as you were told."

A faint expression of contempt, mingled with triumph might have been detected upon Owindia's face as she turned away from the brave at her side. She looked toward the Post. It was as silent as death. The barricade stood out grim and defiant. It was but a small structure there in the wilderness, defended by only a handful of men. Yet it was standing boldly up before a hostile band of natives, who for long years had held the land in subjection and cruel bondage. It was the sign of the advent of a new day, the prelude of the coming of a dominant race, strong, progressive, and grasping. The Chilcats might beat down those wooden walls, they might annihilate the defenders, and for a time seem to conquer. But they could not through pillage and slaughter stem the current which had already set in small at first, but increasing in force and intensity until it had swept the power from their grasp. Owindia knew nothing of this, neither did she realise how great was the import of her own heroic action in seeking to save the lives of those few white traders, the forelopers of a varied throng yet to come. Her thoughts were upon her lover. He was behind those walls, and him she must save, no matter what the cost to herself. No sign of life could she see at the Post, though she was well aware that watchful eyes were peering through the port-holes of the fortification. She was not far away, and could, therefore, be easily heard.

"White traders," she began in a clear, firm voice, "the Chilcats ask you to come out here to meet them, to talk with them. But do not come. The whole band is lying among the trees waiting to fall upon the white men, and kill them. Owindia gives the warning. She speaks true."

The last words had barely left her lips, ere she was rudely seized by the arm, and hurried away from the open, back, amidst the forest, back to the lurking, expectant Chilcats.