CHAPTER XXIV
OUT FROM THE HILLS
When Klitonda saw what had happened and that thirty warriors were ready to follow him against the Chilcats, a smile of satisfaction brightened his face. His heart was lighter than it had been for months. After years of waiting and hard work something had been accomplished. With thirty men to support him, aided by the whites, he believed that the enemy could be defeated and driven back crushed. He at once gave the order to have his hands freed. When the thongs were cut he looked upon the blood upon his wrists and knuckles, and stood for a moment in silence. Then he glanced toward the water as if intending to wash away the stains.
"No," he said aloud, "let the blood stay. There will be more blood upon them before the sun is high again in the heavens. Let the blood of the Chilcats mingle with that of the chief of the Ranges."
Klitonda's hands were numb from their cramped position, and it was some time ere the full feeling returned. He ate the meal which had been prepared for him, at the same time talking to the men who were gathered near. He had much to say to them about the white men, and his capture by the Chilcats.
"The Coast dogs are many," he said in conclusion, "and they will not easily be beaten. Great care must be used, and the hearts of the Ayana warriors must not fail. Now is the time of struggle. Now is the only chance left of freeing our land from the invaders."
Supper ended, Klitonda asked for weapons; bow, arrows, and axe. His own had been taken by the Chilcats. Several bows were brought, and when the chief had tested them he found they were all too weak for his powerful arm.
"Are these the strongest?" he asked. "Klitonda cannot use them. He must have a bow like the one he lost. He cannot go into battle with such as these."
His men looked at one another, but made no response. Then an old squaw, who had been listening intently to the conversation, entered a brush lodge nearby, and shortly returned bearing in her hand a bow larger than the rest. It was seven feet in length and big around at the middle as a man's arm. It had been carefully made, and was partly wound with the finest of caribou sinew. She held it out to Klitonda who received it with surprise.
"Where did this come from?" he asked, as he examined it, and felt its smooth surface. "No Ayana warrior ever bent such a bow as this."
"It was used by my father's father," the old woman replied. "He fought with it at the great Tagish battle when the Ayana were defeated by the Chilcats. He died with it in his hand. Nasheesh was a little girl then, and her mother gave it to her. It was found on the battle-field after the Chilcats had gone away. It was a strong arm that bent that bow, and no one has used it since my father's father died. Let the chief now try it."
"Klitonda will see," was the reply. "Bring the strongest sinew in camp for the old one is weak."
After some delay the bow was fitted with a twanging cord, and the longest arrow chosen. Then Klitonda grasped the bow, and standing erect drew the arrow full to the head, and sent it straight to the limb of a tree fifty yards away. The slender twig trembled for an instant, and then fell to the ground, severed as if by a keen knife. A murmur of admiration rose from the onlookers. Never before had they realised the strength of their chief's arm, although they had talked much about it.
"It will do," Klitonda said, as with much satisfaction he looked around upon his men. "As this bow saw the defeat of the Ayana in the great Tagish battle may it soon see their victory against the Chilcats. But come, it is time to be on the move. The day is almost gone, and the night is all too short in which to reach the Ayan River."
"But is not the chief weary?" asked one of the men. "Will he not take a little sleep first?"
"Klitonda will not sleep," was the emphatic reply. "He will not sleep until after the battle. And if he sleeps then it will be only as a conqueror. If not as a conqueror he will sleep with his own people in the Happy Hunting Ground."
The next question to be settled was the route they were to follow. To go by the way of the trail over which Klitonda had recently travelled would take too long a time, and the warriors would be weary after the difficult march. The alternative route was down the swift river leading from the lake, and thence down the Segas River to the Post. By this they could make much better progress, and reach the Great River by early dawn. It did not take them long to decide upon this latter route, and then preparations were made for a speedy departure.
Darkness had deepened over the land as two canoes left the shore and pointed straight across the lake. There were no cries or murmurings from the women, children, and the few old men who were left behind. It would be unbecoming on their part to make any lamentation, and thus weaken the hearts of the warriors. But as those left behind stood upon the shore until the canoes had disappeared from view, they felt that they had seen the last of their sons and husbands who had gone forth on behalf of their land.
With much skill the Indians guided their canoes down the swift and dangerous stream. There were rocks to avoid, and in one place they had to shoot a foaming rapid. But at length all was passed and in about an hour's time they swept out upon the less dangerous Segas River. They now settled down to hard paddling. The current was fairly swift but not swift enough for the leader who longed for the wings of eagles that he and his men might fly over the forest straight to their destination.
Thus hour after hour they bent to their paddles and in grim silence advanced. Klitonda's thoughts were with Owindia. What had happened to her? he wondered. Was she at the Post? Had the Chilcats made the attack, and if so what was the outcome? Would they be in time? He believed that the assault would be made at night, and if the white men could keep back the Chilcats for a while they might be able to get there before the end came.
The two canoes were in mid-stream, and the banks lined with thick trees were in complete darkness. They did not see, therefore, a canoe drawn upon the shore on their right as they sped by, nor the forms of several men crouching among the trees. Had they known that the deserters from the Post were there waiting with almost bated breath until the unknown canoes had passed, Klitonda would no doubt have forced them to give a quick account of their strange actions. But they knew nothing of what had happened so continued on their way. Hardly a sound did they make as their paddles cleaved the water. Slowly the night wore on and edged into the dawn of a new day, a day which was to mean much for the Ayana people. The trees along the shore became more distinct, and stood shivering from the coolness of the night and the filmy mist which hung like a long thread over the stream. The still weirdness of early morn exerts a peculiar influence upon the heart. It is the time when all the little creatures of forest and air are silent, and the quietness seems to portend future events. It affected the superstitious hearts of the Indians in the canoes. They knew that shortly the Post would be reached, and the struggle with their merciless foes could not be delayed much longer. It was only natural that the paddles should not move with their former swiftness, and that a number of the men should have grave doubts as to the wisdom of the undertaking.
But no such thoughts disturbed the mind of Klitonda. His paddle never for a single moment ceased that mighty sweep which his gigantic arm alone could give. He appeared to be tireless. After what he had experienced it was wonderful to his men how he could continue paddling hour after hour the freshest one of them all. An expression of great determination lighted his face. His eyes gleamed with a far away look. He was fighting the battle with his enemy. He was dealing terrific blows, and levelling the Chilcats to the ground long before the Post was reached.
At length he gave the order in a low tone to run the canoes ashore, and when all had disembarked he gave his men a few words of instruction. He did not consider it advisable to go down into the open and thus expose themselves to the Chilcats should they have taken possession of the place. They must separate into three bands, and spread off into the forest, and thus come up behind the enemy in three different directions. By this manœuvre Klitonda hoped to frighten the Chilcats into believing that a very large band of Ayana Indians had come up against them. Having given careful instructions to his men Klitonda chose five to go with him, and the rest were sent over toward the enemy's camp. At once Klitonda with his followers struck straight through the forest for the Post. They had not gone far ere a faint sound fell upon their ears, which brought them to a sudden standstill. They looked at one another, and without a word sped forward. Well did they know the meaning of that sound. The attack had been made and they would be in time. A feeling of exultation thrilled Klitonda's heart. The spirit of generations of warriors was beating within his breast. He longed to be at his enemy, to have a hand in the fight. It was the wild volcano of rage and hatred which had been threatening for so long, which had now burst forth. No longer could it be restrained. His blood was up, and what to him were a thousand Chilcats? His companions could not keep up with their hurrying chief. His feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground. The sounds of shooting became much more distinct as they advanced.
Reaching the edge of the forest Klitonda became more cautious. He peered forth from among the trees, and seeing the Chilcats swarming at the gate of the Post the truth flashed upon him in the twinkling of an eye. They had broken down the barrier and were upon the white men. The sound of shooting had ceased, but he could hear the savage yells, and at times cries of pain. His men were by his side now. Quickly fitting an arrow to the sinew he drew the bow to its full capacity and sent a missive of death right into that scrambling band of Indians. His companions did the same, but their arrows fell short of their marks. A yell of pain and surprise followed Klitonda's shot. The Chilcats looked toward the forest and as they looked, from two other directions came a rain of arrows, most of which found lodging in the bodies of the besiegers.
The Chilcats now made a wild rush for the cover of the forest, and as they hurried across the open were met by another shower of arrows from the concealed Ayana warriors. But some remained at the Post, and hoped to find shelter behind those wooden walls when they had overcome the two lone defenders. It would not do to let their enemy get possession first.
Klitonda, seeing how matters stood, and that the white men were being hard pressed, stepped forth from his place of concealment. He believed that Owindia was within the Post, and now that the gate had been battered down she would be in great danger from the Chilcats. He surmised that the defenders were hard pressed as they were doing no shooting and seemed to be engaged in a hand to hand struggle with their opponents. With a call to his men to follow he dashed across the open, and with axe in hand fell upon the struggling Chilcats. So sudden was the attack that for a minute the besiegers were taken by surprise, and daunted by the towering form which had leaped so suddenly upon them. But the fear was only temporary, for when they recognised the chief of the Ayana they gave a yell and turned upon him.
Klitonda had only his axe in his hand, but as his enemies rushed toward him he levelled them one by one with the terrible sweep of his right arm. They came two and three at a time, and fearful was the struggle which then took place. Backwards and forwards they surged and swayed. Now Klitonda was forced back step by step, and again he made his opponent retreat. The ground around him was strewn thick with the bodies of dead and wounded Chilcats. Out of the dozen who had set upon him only three were at length left. These seeing how little was their chance of winning against the gigantic chief, turned and fled. One of them ere he left seized a musket which was lying upon the ground, and lifting it to his shoulder aimed it straight at Klitonda and fired. There was a deafening report. The chief staggered, threw up his hands wildly into the air and fell forward upon the ground right across the body of a dead Chilcat.
Klitonda's five companions had attempted to follow their leader to the Post. But as they were some distance behind they were met by a band of Chilcats, and so were forced to retreat to the shelter of the forest. And here amid the trees began a desperate struggle. From tree to tree they fought, both sides watching for the slightest opportunity. The Ayana fought with great bravery, and endeavoured to make every arrow tell. Ere long their quivers were empty, and they had nothing but their axes left. The Chilcats on the other hand not only out-numbered the Ayana, but their weapons were superior. Armed with muskets they were able to pour a withering fire upon their opponents. Their supply of ammunition was abundant, and they were able to keep their enemy from coming to close quarters. Could the Ayana have engaged in a hand to hand encounter even though the odds were against them they would have had a good chance of winning the fight. But whenever they appeared from behind the trees they were met by a shower of bullets. At length only two of the five were left, and they, seeing that their case was hopeless, made a frantic effort to escape. They turned to flee, but had taken only a few steps when they fell to the ground, pierced by several balls.
And the fate which befell these five overtook the rest of the Ayana. Their arrows which were soon spent could not contend with the more destructive muskets. Soon most of them were lying dead or wounded upon the ground, while only a few escaped and made their way back to the lake with the terrible tale of death and defeat. The Ayana warriors had made a determined struggle for freedom. But they had not counted upon the overwhelming power of the muskets which the Chilcats carried. Their primitive weapons, no matter how powerful, were no match for the deadly guns of modern civilisation.
CHAPTER XXV
INTO THE UNKNOWN
When the Chilcats broke down the door of the barricade and crowded through the opening Ranger Dan and Natsatt sprang toward the store, and stood with their backs against the logs. Hope faded from their hearts as they saw the natives surging through the door. But they determined to die fighting hard. Two Chilcat warriors went down before the fire of their muskets, which caused the others to hesitate for a few seconds. Then with a yell of rage they rushed the two lone defenders. With their muskets raised aloft Dan and Natsatt dealt terrible blows upon the heads of their enemies. Notwithstanding the Ranger's age he was a veritable giant in battle. His great stature, and the reach of his long arms gave him an advantage over his short-limbed antagonists. Natsatt, too, was no mean opponent. Strong, lithe, and tall, he dealt sledge-hammer blows, levelling several Indians to the ground. The Chilcats wished to take these sturdy fighters alive. It would mean much to lead them as captives back over the mountains to the coast. They did not, therefore, use their muskets, but endeavoured to stun the white men with their axes. This was fortunate for Dan and Natsatt, otherwise they would have gone down in an instant.
But fight as bravely as they might it was impossible for two men no matter how strong and brave to hold out for any length of time against such overwhelming odds. The Herculean efforts they were making could not last much longer. Already they felt themselves weakening, and realised that the fight could not continue much longer. Natsatt had just knocked over a venturesome brave, and was turning his attention to another who had rushed up, when a yell was raised from those in the rear. There was a cry of pain, too, and at once the pressure lessened, and most of the Chilcats scrambled hurriedly back through the gate. The defenders had no time to ascertain what was taking place outside, for two furious natives still remained, and were besetting them with wild rage. They had been slightly wounded and were burning for revenge. The Ranger by leaping aside escaped a blow aimed at his head, and in return brought his shattered musket stock down upon the brave with such a force that the native sank helpless at his feet. Another blow and the Chilcat lay still. Natsatt on the other hand had a much harder struggle. His opponent was more cautious, and watched his opportunity to strike. The half-breed was also wary, but springing back to escape a blow aimed at him, slipped and fell sideways upon the earth. With savage delight the Chilcat leaped forward. His axe was raised aloft to strike. It was in the act of descending, when the arm which held the weapon was broken like a pipe stem by the force of Dan's musket. With a yell of pain and rage the Indian turned upon his new assailant. But he was helpless, and another blow sent him to join his companion in the Spirit world.
"Are you hurt?" Dan asked, rushing forward, and assisting the young man to his feet.
"No," was the reply. "But that was a close call. I am covered with bruises and blood, and so are you, Dan. Anything serious?"
"Guess not. Only a few scratches. But we haven't time to think about such things now. We must see what's going on outside."
Together they rushed to the gate, and were just in time to behold Klitonda fall across the body of the dead Chilcat. They saw the two braves fleeing for the forest, and then looked upon the fallen Indians lying near the chief.
"Good Lord! What a fight he put up!" Dan exclaimed. "Oh, if we had only been here a few minutes sooner we might have saved the brave chap. But let's bring him inside. Maybe there's life in his body yet."
Hurrying to where the chief was lying, they carefully examined him, and found that life was not altogether extinct, although he was bleeding profusely from the bullet wound. Lifting him up with considerable difficulty they carried him behind the fortification.
"Not in there," Natsatt panted, as Dan was heading for the Post.
"Where, then?" was the reply.
"To the canoe by the water-gate. We must get out of this. There's no time to lose. The devils may be upon us at any instant."
Without questioning these words Dan obeyed, and thus they bore the wounded chief to the river's edge and laid him carefully in the big canoe.
"Now for Owindia," Natsatt cried. "I'll look after her while you get some grub together, if there's any left."
Dan obeyed like a child, and followed the young man back to the store. The fearful struggle through which he had recently passed was having its effect upon him now. He was weaker than he had been for years, and he needed some one upon whom he could depend in the present crisis. Searching around he gathered into an old sack their scanty supply of provision, hardly enough to make one good meal for a hungry man. He had just reached the door when Natsatt came forth from the adjoining room carrying Owindia in his arms. She had hardly moved from the position she had been placed but a short time before. Natsatt's heart stirred with pity and love as he saw her lying there, with her loosened hair tossed in confusion about her face. Her lips were slightly parted, and she was breathing heavily. Her cheeks were flushed and hot, telling plainly that the fever had not yet subsided. As Natsatt stooped to lift her his face came close to hers, and upon her hot lips he imprinted a loving kiss.
"Darling," he murmured, "I must save you, and you must live. Don't leave Natsatt. How can he live without you?"
Gathering the maiden up in the blankets which were upon the cot he hurried out and met Dan. They had taken only a few steps toward the water-gate when the Ranger gave a cry of alarm.
"The Chilcats are coming!" he roared. "Quick; to the canoe!"
With a mighty bound Natsatt leaped forward, with Dan following close at his heels. He reached the canoe, placed his precious burden, blankets and all in the bottom. The craft was at once rushed into the water.
"In, quick!" Dan commanded. "The devils are upon us!"
As the craft left the shore Natsatt seized a paddle and glanced around. Coming down the long passage-way he saw a score of Indians on the full run, shouting and yelling in the most terrifying manner.
"Drive her," roared Dan, "and get beyond the range of their guns. I wish my musket was loaded, I'd give them a parting salute, which one of them would feel."
Seizing the other paddle he assisted Natsatt, and soon the canoe was in the middle of the river, bearing downstream. The foremost of the Chilcats seeing their prey about to escape endeavoured to shoot them down in the canoe. In this they were foiled by the high walls which ran several feet out into the water, and by the time the muskets had been discharged the craft had dropped far enough away to be hidden from view. Had the Indians been outside the barricade they might have done considerable damage. But so anxious had they been to seize the white men, and raid the Post that all who were able had rushed within the fortification. When they realised their mistake and rushed outside the canoe was so far away that their shots would have been useless. They accordingly returned to the Post and ransacked the place, seizing eagerly upon everything the traders had left behind. They searched among the dead for the body of the Ayana chief, and were greatly disappointed when no trace of him could be found. They had hoped to find him only wounded and thus would have nursed him back to life that they might have the pleasure of submitting him to untold tortures later on.
In the meantime Dan and Natsatt had driven the canoe farther and farther away from the Post. They expected immediate pursuit, and often glanced anxiously back up the river to see if the Chilcats were coming. After a couple of hours' hard paddling and no sign of the enemy was seen they began to think that the Indians had given up the idea. There were many other things to occupy their attention. The chief needed attention, and Natsatt at length laid down his paddle and moved to Klitonda's side, while Dan continued paddling and kept the canoe in the middle of the stream. The chief was lying just where he had been placed. Putting his ear down close to his face Natsatt found that he was still breathing. His eyes were closed, and his lips were firmly pressed together. His long hair was tangled and moist. His head was thrown back, and upon his face was that defiant expression with which he had met his opponents. Natsatt laid his right hand upon the chief's shoulder, and gave him a slight shake.
"Klitonda, Klitonda," he called. "Wake up. You are safe. The Chilcats cannot trouble you any more. Klitonda, do you hear?"
He waited and watched for a few heart beats, and then the eyes of the chief slowly opened, and looked around in a vacant manner. His lips slowly moved, and Natsatt stooped down in an effort to comprehend what he was trying to say.
"Owindia—Klota—Chilcats—" came feebly from the dying chief.
"Owindia is here," Natsatt replied, "and the Chilcats cannot harm her."
"Owindia—Klota—Chilcats—white man," Klitonda continued, not heeding the young man's words. Then his face underwent a marvellous transformation. The look of defiance faded and in its stead came an expression of triumph. He was driving out the Chilcats; he was watching them flee before his people back over the mountains toward the coast. His right arm suddenly shot out, and he partly lifted himself from the bottom of the canoe. "The Chilcats are beaten!" he cried. "They run like dogs. The Ayana, the Ayana are free! Klota is avenged—Owindia—"
He stopped short, and his eyes looked straight before him, wild and triumphant. Then his tense body relaxed, his head drooped, and he sank back into the bottom of the canoe. Klitonda, the chief of the Ranges was dead!
With a big lump in his throat Natsatt looked silently upon the face of the dead warrior. He had striven faithfully for long years to free his land from the invaders, and was this the end?
"Poor chap, it's certainly too bad," Dan remarked, resting on his paddle, and viewing the lifeless body. "He was a brave warrior, and deserved a better fate than that. Oh, if I were only young again I would bring back a regular army, and wipe those vile skunks out of existence. They'll treat the Ayana Indians worse than ever now, and they will laugh at the whites. Good Lord! my blood fairly boils when I think of them. But, then what's the use of worrying over what can't be helped. We've got enough ahead of us, I'm thinking, to occupy us for many days to come. That poor lassie hasn't stirred once since we left the Post. I've had my eyes upon her face most of the time. What are we going to do with her?"
Dan's question remained unanswered. They were in an unknown region never before entered by white men. The Ayana Indians had told them marvellous tales of the ferocity of the natives who live along the lower banks of the river. They were monsters, so they said, with hair hanging to their waists, and living upon the bodies of all Indians they could capture. Both Dan and Natsatt knew enough of the natives to realise that these tales were no doubt much exaggerated. With their guns they believed they could easily frighten them away. What concerned them most was their ignorance of what lay beyond. The wild Indians they would be willing to meet if they knew that somewhere ahead they would come to some camp or Post where Owindia could be cared for. They knew that the Mackenzie River, east of the mountains, flowed north into the Arctic Ocean. This river was apparently bearing them in the same direction. Would they be borne on and on only at last to reach that Great Sea from which they could hardly expect to return with Owindia alive? She needed immediate care which they were unable to give. The river was swift, and at times it was divided by numerous small islands. They were puzzled as to which channel they should keep, but each time the canoe swept down into the main current again. No sign of Indians had they seen. Nothing but a dreary wilderness stretched around them on every side. The trees came right to the water's edge. The banks were not high here as farther upstream, but sloped gently to the river's edge. Their last morsel of food was now gone and they watched anxiously for some animal to appear upon the bank. They had caught sight of a moose swimming across the river ahead of them, but it was too far off for them to attempt to shoot it. Several bears had also been seen along the shore, but they, too, had escaped.
Thus on and on they sped throughout that long day. The sun beat upon their heads, and the flies swarmed around them. They were both weary from the strenuous ordeal through which they had passed, and longed to lie down and rest. But they did not dare to relinquish their paddling for any length of time. Toward evening they espied an island ahead, larger than any they had yet seen. The same thought occupied both their minds. In fact they had been thinking about it for some time. Occasionally they glanced toward the body of the chief lying near at their side.
"Suppose we land on yon island, lad," Dan suggested. "Guess we've got some work ahead of us. We can't carry this poor chap much farther."
"I've been thinking of the same thing," Natsatt replied. "We couldn't leave him in a better place."
Running the canoe ashore on the upper point of the island, they landed, and stretched their cramped legs. It was certainly a beautiful spot. Birds twittered among the trees, and there was an abundance of wild grass and northern flowers. It was a fitting place to leave the chief, who had such a passionate love for his country, and who gave up his life that it might be freed. Bearing the body of the Indian in their arms they brought him ashore, and laid him upon the ground at the foot of a large tree. Searching around they found a few branches, and others they cut with their axes. These they laid tenderly over the body until it was completely covered. Not a word was uttered as they performed this task of love for the fallen man. When the last twig had been deposited Dan stepped back as if to leave the place. He hesitated, and a mistiness dimmed his eyes.
"I can't do it, lad. I can't!" he groaned. "He was Klota's husband, and she must have loved him. How can I leave him here! I can't, I can't!"
"I feel the same way, too," Natsatt replied. "Klitonda is Owindia's father and what will she say when she learns that he was left here on this lonely island? No, it cannot be. We must take him with us."
Dan turned to the young man, and their hands clasped. They looked into each other's eyes, and were not ashamed of the mistiness which gleamed there. They were partners in distress. They had been tried in the fire of affliction, and had not been found wanting. Not a word did they speak as they bore the chief back to the canoe and laid the body in its former place. Ahead of them lay the great unknown. Whither would that sinuous river lead them? That was the question each was asking himself. But no answer was vouchsafed to them, and the vast wilderness kept its secret well. They were weary and hungry. How longingly they had watched for some animal to make its appearance near enough that they might obtain food. But so far they had been disappointed. Were they to starve there in a land of plenty? Moose, bear, and grouse in the forest, and fish in the stream, and must they go without? Natsatt suggested that they should tarry there for a time while he went into the woods in an effort to obtain some game. But Dan shook his head.
"We can't afford the time, lad," he replied. "We must hurry on with the lassie, and see what's ahead of us. To-morrow if nothing comes our way there'll be nothing left but to go after game. So let's get on down stream."
Embarking, they slipped around the point of the island, and skirted the left hand shore. They had not gone far when Natsatt, who was seated somewhat astern, ceased paddling, laid his hand upon Dan's shoulder, and pointed ahead to the right. Then he lifted his musket and brought it to bear upon a fine moose standing drinking at the edge of the water. The animal had not seen the canoe, and when the report rang out it gave a tremendous leap into the air, staggered for an instant, and bounded off into the forest.
"We've lost it!" Natsatt groaned. "What's the matter with me, anyway? I was sure of that shot."
"Don't feel too badly," Dan soothed. "You hit it, and it may be lying among the trees. Let's go and see."
Running the canoe ashore where the moose had been seen, the young man sprang out and disappeared into the forest. Soon a glad shout reached Dan's ears, and following the sound he ere long gained the spot where Natsatt was standing gloating over the carcass of a large bull moose. It did not take them long to choose the choicest portion of meat from the animal. Then hurrying back they lighted a fire upon the shore, and prepared to cook their supper. How good that meat tasted to those two half-starved men. It was the first fresh meat they had eaten for days. The meal ended, their strength returned, and their courage as well. They could face the unknown now with a better heart.
"I feel like a new man!" Dan ejaculated, as he stood up and stretched himself. "A man can go without sleep for days, but only a boa-constrictor can go for months without grub, and thank heaven I'm not a serpent. We must take as much of that moose with us as the canoe can carry, for the Lord only knows when we'll run across another."
This was soon accomplished, and soon they were once more speeding on their way down that great northern waterway.
CHAPTER XXVI
REGIONS BEYOND
When the dawn of a new day broke, the canoe was still sweeping on its way down the Yukon, which was now becoming much wider. During the night Natsatt and Dan had been able to obtain some sleep. They took turns at steering the craft, and did little paddling, merely allowing it to drift over long stretches of water, and around sharp bends. Their progress was accordingly slow. It was necessary for them to advance with care, as they could not tell what dangerous rocks and rapids might be ahead.
Natsatt's chief thought was of Owindia. He had wrapped the blankets closely around her, and had shifted her to as comfortable a position as possible. At times he held her hot limp hand in his, and anxiously watched her face, hoping to see some change upon those loved features. All through the day he had moistened her parched lips with the cool water of the river. She moaned much during the night, and became quite restless. Her head tossed on the rough pillow, and she would throw out her arms, thus loosening the blankets from around her body. It meant constant watchfulness on Natsatt's part to see that the coverings were replaced, for the night was chilly and a damp mist hung along the river. The short time he was asleep Dan looked after the maiden. There was nothing more they could do for her. They were helpless there in the lone wilderness. Few words were spoken during the night. But the Ranger was doing considerable thinking. The more deeply he was moved the more silent he always became. His mind was much upon Klota, and Owindia, with the same form and features, brought back old days. His life for long years had been very lonely, and just when he had found some one to live for it seemed as if she might be taken from him. Suppose she should recover, and they should get back to civilisation, then he would make up for the past. He had neglected to give Klota what was her due, but it would not be so with her only child. As he listened to her moans, and at times rose from his seat to cover her up, a deep love for this poor child came into his heart. Then his hands would clench firmly together, while he made a mental vow that she should not die. When morning dawned they would drive the canoe as it had never been driven before. Surely they would meet with some human beings, whether whites or Indians, who would be able to minister to the maiden.
It was early in the morning when they ran ashore, and built a small fire, and cooked their breakfast of moose meat. It was at the mouth of a small river where they had landed. They noticed signs of an Indian encampment several rods up this stream, but no living person could they behold. The land was covered with a dense forest on this side of the river, and sloped gently to the water's edge. On the opposite side rose high hills, with heavy mountains in the background. It was a scene of grim, gaunt desolation, and the hearts of the two wayfarers became much depressed as they looked around. For themselves they did not care, but only for Owindia. They could go on and on until the mouth of the river was reached. They could die, but it was hard to see her lying there with no one to give a helping hand. Little did they know that they were the pioneers of a region which one day would be throbbing with industrial life; that the little stream which flowed at their feet would in less than half a century attract the attention of the whole world, and the word "Klondyke" would be a common household expression. They could not see that across this river, on that point of land, low, and covered with thick trees and bushes, almost like a swamp, a city would rise magic-like, teeming with thousands of gold-fevered men. But they could not see, and of what avail would such a vision have been to them in their time of necessity? Fifty years would have meant an eternity to them, and they needed help at once.
"Nothing doing here," Dan ejaculated, rising and looking about. "Good Lord, what a hole we've got into! Where are the Indians, anyway? I wouldn't care if they were devils incarnate so long as they showed up that we might learn something about what's ahead of us."
"There's nothing for us to do but to go on," Natsatt replied. "There are Indians around somewhere that's certain, and they may be down stream a bit, and perhaps we shall meet them before night."
Hour after hour they continued on their way, and it was past noon when they came to another river flowing into the Yukon on their left. They were about to pass without stopping, when a canoe bearing several Indians, darted out from behind a small point, and moved toward them. The current here was swift, and with some difficulty Dan and Natsatt swung their big canoe around and made for the shore. When the keel had grated upon the beach they rested and waited for the natives to come closer. This, however, the latter were somewhat reluctant to do. They were armed with bows and axes, which they kept in readiness for any emergency. Natsatt called out to them to approach, and made signs that they would not be harmed. He stood up in the canoe, showed his own empty hands, and pointed to his companion. Little by little the Indians drew nearer, and when they found there was no danger they ran close to the white men.
These strangers were dressed in the rough animal clothing of the country. They were taller than the Indians farther upstream, and appeared to be friendly disposed. Their speech was altogether unintelligible to the white men, and only by signs could they make known their wants. They pointed to the dead chief, upon whom the Indians looked with much interest, and talked rapidly among themselves. But when they saw the maiden they became silent, and drew back a few paces. Natsatt endeavoured to make them understand she needed assistance. They shook their heads, pointed away to the west, looked at the sun, and held up two fingers. By that it was evident that the rest of the band were two days away from the shore, back among the hills. Natsatt next pointed down the river, and then to himself and Dan. The Indians did not at once reply but held an earnest conversation among themselves. Then one took a small stick, and upon the sand made a rude sketch of a square, and around it he made a number of upright strokes.
"It's a Post he means," Natsatt exclaimed, now much excited.
"Seems so," Dan replied. "But I wonder how far."
Then he pointed down the river, and toward the sun. At this the Indians shook their heads and held up their fingers, some four, others three, and two one.
It was quite evident that they were uncertain as to the distance, and nothing further could be learned from them. After a few more signs had been made Dan and Natsatt pushed off, and continued on their way downstream. They were feeling more encouraged since they had learned that what seemed to be a Post or Fort lay ahead. Word of the white men no doubt had been brought up the river to these Indians.
The day passed, and another weary night. The following day found them still drifting down that great stream which seemed to have no end. Then another night, and as the blackness stole around them a feeling of deep depression came into their hearts. Owindia was weaker, and moaned more than ever. She was failing fast they could plainly tell, and unless help came soon she could not last much longer. Dan had prepared for her a nourishing drink from a piece of the moose meat. He had done it the evening after they had left the Indians at the mouth of the river. It was the rich juice which he had boiled from the meat, and some of this they had forced Owindia to take. But notwithstanding all their efforts the maiden was sinking. As Natsatt watched her his heart became very heavy. How he longed for her to open her eyes and fix them upon him. Would she ever do it again? he asked himself. During the day he often held her hands as he sat by her side with bent head. Dan seeing the young man's silent grief was much moved.
"Keep up a stout heart, lad," he had said. "While there's life in her body we must not give up. That place can't be far ahead."
"I have kept up hope, God knows," Natsatt responded. "But what does it all amount to, I'd like to know. Owindia is failing, and we'll have two to bury instead of one. And perhaps there'll be three, for what will be the use of my living without her. Oh, Dan, you don't know how much she means to me. She is the only woman I ever really loved, and with her I know I could do almost anything. Why should I find her, only to lose her in such a short time!"
So far north had they now gone that the nights were becoming very short. The sun merely dipped below the horizon, and the light from the great orb was enough to illumine the whole land. Objects could be seen quite distinctly some distance away. When the sun again rose from its golden bath into which it had plunged, Dan, who was steering caught sight of something ahead which caused him to sit bolt upright, and shade his eyes with his hand. Then he called to Natsatt.
"See, lad," he cried, "isn't that a building ahead? Your eyes are better than mine. Upon yon bank it stands."
"It's the Post!" Natsatt replied, now much excited. "There seem to be several buildings. Let's drive the canoe, and get there as soon as possible."
Hope once again filled their hearts as they bent to their paddles and the canoe fairly leaped through the water. With steady work in about an hour's time they were so close to the building that they could see people moving about, and noticed smoke ascending from the large house which had first attracted their attention. It did not take them long now to reach the place. But before they arrived the bank was lined with natives watching with curiosity the coming of the strange craft. Never did faces appear so good to the two voyagers as did those dusky features appear on that summer morning. They were friendly, and as soon as the canoe touched the shore eager hands grasped the bow and drew it well up on the beach.
While the Indians were crowding around talking in a most excited manner, a tall man pushed his way through their midst, and coming forward, held out his hand to Dan and Natsatt. He was evidently the trader in charge of the Post.
"Good Lord!" he exclaimed, as he looked upon the dead chief, and Owindia, "where have you dropped from? I didn't know there was a white man anywhere south of us within two thousand miles, that is on this side of the mountains."
"We'll tell you all," Dan replied, "as soon as something is done for that poor lassie. She's badly stricken with a fever of some kind. It's the outcome of a fearful experience, and I'm afraid she's far gone. Is there any woman here who can take care of her?"
"To be sure," was the reply. "Bring her up to the house, and I'll round up an old squaw who is skilful at such work, to look after her. We must tend to that chap there in the bow, too. It's a wonder to me you didn't leave him behind."
Without replying Natsatt lifted Owindia tenderly in his arms and bore her up the bank toward the large house. The door was open, and several white men were standing near. They exhibited much kindness, and showed Natsatt where to place the maiden in a small room. Upon a cot he laid her, and breathed a prayer of thankfulness that at last she should have care and attention which neither he nor Dan could give. Soon several squaws entered, and he left them alone with his loved one.
CHAPTER XXVII
FORT YUKON
It did not take Dan and Natsatt long to realise that this place they had reached in their dire necessity was a Post of the famous Hudson's Bay Company. There was the flag, known all over western Canada, with the three letters H. B. C. imprinted upon it. They were much surprised, for they had no idea that the Company had penetrated into this far-off region. They knew that they had gone far north in their search after the furry prize, but they had not heard that they had crossed the mountains. They looked with wonder upon the well-built houses, clean and orderly.
"So you are surprised, too," laughed the Factor, as he sat watching his visitors enjoying the first good meal they had eaten in days. "I was much astonished to see you come down the river, and you were amazed to find us here. There are no limits to the Great Company's operations these days. We have been here a little over a year, and it seems as if we are likely to stay for some time. But come, tell me where you have come from, and who is the sick squaw. We don't often see such Indian women in this country. She is certainly a prize. I am anxious to know, too, about that big Indian you brought with you."
And there in that frontier Post the story was told, of the entrance into the wilderness, the building of the Post at the mouth of the Segas River, the attack of the Chilcats, the desertion by the white men, the death of the chief of the Ranges, his daughter's bravery and sickness, and the terrible voyage down the river.
To all this the Factor listened without a word of comment. At times he allowed the pipe he was smoking to go out, and seemed to be lost in thought. So these men were rival traders he mentally commented, who will no doubt be a menace to the work of the H. B. Company. Why should he give such men shelter? How would his action appear when word reached headquarters? His silence, and the expression upon his face did not escape the keen eyes of Dan and Natsatt. They well knew how the Great Company would tolerate no interference, and how all independent traders were disliked.
"And so you began trading with the Indians on your own account, did you?" the Factor at length remarked. "It doesn't work. You need some power behind you."
"Don't misunderstand me," Dan replied. "It was not for the trade that I came into this country, but to find my only child, my long lost Klota. The trade was only a pawn in the game."
"And did you find her?" the Factor asked, now much interested.
"No. But I found her child, that poor lassie who is now lying here sick unto death. You may be offended with me, and consider me a rival trader, but for God's sake do everything you can for her. She is innocent."
In reply the Factor reached out his hand and caught the Ranger's.
"There is my pledge of good faith," he said. "We don't war against women. I honour you for what you have done, and I know my Company will say I am right in looking after you. Stay with us until we see what happens to the girl. You must rest now while I make arrangements for the burial of the chief."
Two days passed during which time Natsatt and Dan recovered much of their former strength. It was a time of suspense, for Owindia's life still hung in the balance. The Indian women were good nurses and did all in their power for the sick girl. They understood the nature of her trouble, and administered medicine made from the roots and bark of trees. These simple remedies had been used among this people from time immemorial with satisfactory results.
Natsatt kept almost constant watch by Owindia's side. He could not bear to be absent from her for any length of time. Dan, too, would often sit near, and study the drawn face lying upon the pillow. The day of their arrival at the Fort was the first time he had noticed the slender chain around the maiden's neck.
"Where did she get that?" he asked Natsatt, who was sitting near.
"It was her mother's," was the reply. "Klitonda gave it to Owindia the night Klota was killed, and she has worn it ever since. There is a locket attached to it. She believed it was a charm, and had power to keep away evil. She showed it to me once."
"What's in the locket?" Dan queried.
"Her mother's picture."
"Let me see it, quick," and Dan rose to his feet as he spoke. "Yes, it's my darling child," he murmured as he opened the locket which the young man had handed to him. "I gave it to her, and well do I remember the day. How happy she was, and she gave me such a loving kiss. Little did I think then when I should see it again, for it was just before I lost her."
The second night Natsatt was sitting alone by Owindia's side. Dan was to relieve him later on. It was near the hour of midnight, and a deep silence reigned within and without the building. The one small window in the room was open, and the fresh air was drifting in from forest and river. To Natsatt there seemed to be no change in Owindia's condition. For days he had been waiting for her to open her eyes and look upon him. To-night he felt more depressed than ever. He had waited so long, and his hope of her recovery was growing less each day. As he sat there he thought of the happy days they had been together, and of their first meeting in the lodge in the wilderness. He recalled how sweet was her voice as he listened to her as he lay by the fire the morning after that great storm. Was that voice to be silenced for ever? he asked himself. Would he never hear it again? He remembered how delighted she had been as he played upon the mouth-organ. The thought brought to his mind the little instrument which he had not touched for days. Thrusting his hand within his jacket where he kept it safely concealed, he brought it forth, and fondled it for a few minutes. Then the old longing came upon him, and placing it to his lips he began to play a soft, low tune. It was like magic to his drooping spirits, and affected him as it had always done in days gone by. Tune after tune he played, unheeding how the time was passing. In the midst of a sweet air he happened to glance toward the bed, and immediately the music ceased, and the instrument dropped from his mouth. There by his side was Owindia, with eyes wide open looking straight into his face. A great joy leaped into his heart, as he leaned over and took her wasted hand in his.
"Are you better, darling?" he asked.
A faint smile appeared upon her face, and her eyes roved about the room with a puzzled expression.
"The Chilcats!" she whispered. "Where are they?"
"Hush, darling," Natsatt replied. "Do not talk now. You are safe. The Chilcats cannot harm you any more, so go to sleep."
With a deep sigh of relief Owindia closed her eyes, and was soon off into a calm refreshing slumber. Natsatt watched her for a few minutes with a great joy and thankfulness in his heart. He wished to tell some one of the good news. He must speak and let others share his happiness. He rose to his feet to leave the room to arouse Dan. But as he turned there stood the Ranger at the door. The sound of the music had awakened him, and he had come to see what was the matter. He had just reached the door when Owindia opened her eyes. He had said nothing, but had remained a silent witness of it all.
There was no sleep for these two delighted men that night. They now knew that the crisis was passed, and with care Owindia would recover. They sat and talked in subdued tones about their plans for the future. Hitherto they had been silent concerning this subject. Now, however, it was different.
As the days passed Owindia made steady progress. Ere long she was able to leave her cot, and take short walks out in the fresh open air. Natsatt was always with her, and supported her feeble steps. She was much interested in everything she saw. The Post was a wonder in her eyes, and she asked Natsatt if the houses beyond the mountains of the rising sun were anything like it. The Indians, too, were different from any she had ever seen. They were kind to the sick girl, and were always pleased when she came to visit them in their lodges. They had heard the story of her terrible experience among the Chilcats, and had discussed it among themselves. The white men of the Fort were pleased to have the sweet-faced, gentle maiden among them, and treated her with the greatest courtesy. Natsatt mentally noted how different was their treatment of Owindia from the men who had deserted the Post up river. The Factor became fond of the maiden, and when he found that Natsatt was her lover he heartily congratulated the young man. Thus their stay at the Fort was most pleasant, a blessed relief after the terrible experiences through which they had passed.
But notwithstanding her happiness with Natsatt there was a cloud upon Owindia's mind. She longed to know about her father. It had been thought best not to tell her about his death until she was stronger in health. Several times her question had been evaded. She had learned something about the defeat of the Ayana, and the attack upon the Post. A fear pressed upon her heart, that something had happened to her father. She brooded over it by day, and would lie awake at night for hours wondering what had become of him.
One day as she and Natsatt were walking along the bank of the river, talking and gathering wild flowers, they sat down in a quiet little spot under the shelter of a large fir tree. The water of the Yukon flowed swiftly past, and fascinated Owindia. She could not keep her eyes away from that stream, and became unusually silent.
"What is it, little one?" Natsatt asked, noting her pre-occupied manner. "Are you not feeling well to-day? I hope nothing is the matter, for we are planning to leave this place next week. Boats of the Company are to start up the Porcupine River with their loads of furs, and they have kindly offered to take us with them. You will then be able to see what the world is like beyond the great mountains. I hope you will be able to go."
"I am feeling stronger every day," Owindia replied. "I have heard that we are to go, and I suppose I shall never see this river again. But when I look upon it I feel sad. It was by its side so far away where I played as a little child, and my mother used to sit near and watch me. Her grave is far up there," and she threw out her left arm in an eloquent gesture. "It was there that the Chilcats tried to steal me away, and my father saved me. How he loved me, and would do anything for me. Tell me, oh, tell me, Natsatt, what has happened to him."
For a while Natsatt was silent, and sat gazing steadily before him out upon the river. How could he tell her? He had been dreading that question for days, and now it had come and had to be answered. Owindia noticed his silence, and with the quick intuition of her race divined the meaning.
"You do not answer," she breathed, while a deep sigh escaped her lips. "You do not wish to tell me what you know. But I know now, as if you spoke the words."
"I did not wish to see you grieve," Natsatt returned. "You were so weak that if I told you it might do you harm. The truth was kept from you because I love you so. Don't you believe me, darling?"
"Oh, yes, I know you love me. But I am stronger now, and want to hear everything. If my father is dead I know he died like a true warrior."
"Indeed he did," Natsatt replied. "He fought bravely to the last. You should have seen the bodies of the dead and wounded Chilcats lying on the ground. The Coast dogs would have been defeated if the Ayana had been armed with muskets, but they could do very little against the guns."
"And did you leave my father where he fell?" Owindia asked. "Are you sure he was dead? Perhaps he was only wounded, and the Chilcats have taken him away to torture him. The thought is terrible."
"No, we did not. We brought him with us, and he died in the canoe on our way down the river. His last word was about you."
"My poor father," and Owindia sighed as she spoke. "How hard he struggled to free his land, and now it is all over. The Chilcats will be more cruel to the Ayana than ever. Perhaps it is just as well that my father is gone. His heart was always heavy, but I am sure it would break if he were alive to see how his people will be treated. They will never have courage to rise again to free their land."
Her head drooped, her bosom heaved with the intensity of her emotion, and the tears began to steal slowly down her cheeks. Natsatt placed his arm around her in an effort to soothe her. Her form shook, and her sobbing increased. Her lover let her weep, well knowing that the tears would relieve her surcharged feelings, and that she would feel better after the storm of grief was over.
"Would you like to see your father's grave?" Natsatt at length asked.
"What! did you bring his body all the way to this place?" and Owindia lifted her tear-stained eyes to his face.
"Yes. We could not leave him behind. We knew how badly you would feel."
Without another word the maiden placed her hand in his, and rising, he led her to the Indian burying ground on a hill back of the Post. There were many graves here, and over each one had been erected quaint shelters. Some were covered with little cotton tents, while others had houses made of logs and brush. In the midst of these was one covered with new earth. It was surrounded by neat palings, made from small fir saplings, stripped of their bark. At the head of the grave a rude cross had been erected, on which several words had been carved, telling of the chief who was lying beneath.
"Who did it?" Owindia whispered, after she had stood for a while looking down upon the mound.
"We thought you would like it," Natsatt replied. "It was Dan who made the cross, and cut your father's name upon it. People beyond the mountains put crosses over the graves of their loved ones. Dan said that though your father wasn't really a Christian he was a far better man than many Christians he knew. Some day you will learn what that cross means, and why it is placed over graves."
For some time they stood by the side of the mound, and then Owindia moved away and gathered some wild flowers she saw growing near. They were the pretty wild rose, lupin, blue-bell, and berry blossoms. These she and Natsatt gathered, and laid them tenderly upon the grave. This deed of love accomplished, and with a long, lingering glance upon the spot she would soon never see again, Owindia placed her hand in Natsatt's and he led her slowly back to the Fort.
In a few days the Company's boats were all ready for their long voyage upstream. Dan, Natsatt, and Owindia went with them. They thus turned their backs for ever upon the country which had been the scene of so much sorrow mingled with joy. And they left behind, too, Klitonda, the chief of the Ranges, who had fought a brave, stubborn fight, and like many reformers, had given up his life ere he saw the cause for which he died triumphant in the end.
CHAPTER XXVIII
AT LAST
It was a summer afternoon late in June when a lithe canoe containing two men, cut through the water of a large lake in the great Canadian Northwest. Everything spoke hurry. It was shown in the long sweep of the paddles, and the anxious glances which the men now and then cast upon a dim headland miles beyond. The canoe seemed to enter into the spirit of the excitement, and throbbed with life as it cleaved the rippling surface. It was a bright day, and the sun poured its hot beams upon the heads of the voyagers. The whole region surrounding the lake was covered with a thick forest sloping to the water's edge. Not a sign of human life was anywhere to be seen. Birds alone made their appearance, as they darted here and there as if rejoicing over the presence of the canoe in their midst.
"Do you think we can get there in time?" Natsatt asked, as he rested for a few seconds on his paddle and looked keenly forward.
"Sure," Dan replied. "But there's not a minute to lose. If it hadn't been for that delay in the rapids we'd have been there before now."
"We must make it," and the young man again drove his paddle with great determination into the water as he spoke. "Haven't I been counting the days for months, and lying awake at night thinking of this trip, and now that we may be late is too much to stand. What will she think if we're not there?"
"Don't worry, lad," the Ranger soothed. "We haven't lost yet, and I'm good for five hours of the hardest paddling of my life. How do you feel?"
"Feel? Why, fresh as when I left home. I could paddle at top-notch speed all night long for what's ahead of us. But we must be there by eight o'clock, or much of the fun will be lost. Do you think she'll be watching for us?"
"Sure. Weren't her letters full of it, and what she would say and do when she saw us?"
"Yes, I know that, Dan. But suppose she has changed? She has been there three years now, and has learned many things she did not know before, and might not want to go back with us. Three years make a big difference sometimes, you know. If she has changed much from what she was when we came out from the Yukon I shall be greatly disappointed. I can never forget that journey, for it was the happiest period of my life. We were a long time on the way according to the calendar, but very short to me. How bright and happy she was, and everything she saw was so full of interest to her. My, it was hard to leave her, and not see her again for three years. I don't know how I had the courage to do it."
"It was for the best, lad," Dan quietly remarked. "She, I trust, has gained much, and so have you. You've obtained a good foothold now in the country, of which any man might be proud. You've got much to live for."
"But I could not have done it without your help, Dan," Natsatt replied. "It's been a hard struggle I know, but what could I have done without you, and the thought of Owindia to urge me on. Sometimes when I was about discouraged the thought of her would come to my mind, and I said to myself, 'If I fail what will she think?' and that idea always filled me with new determination."
"She has meant much to both of us, lad. I was an old man when I crossed the mountains, and believed that my time was almost up. But when she came into my life it made all the difference in the world, and now I feel almost as young as ever."
"And you don't think she'll be much changed?" Natsatt queried. "You think she'll be glad to see us, and not be ashamed of our rough ways? If I thought she would I'd not go near where she is."
"Don't be a fool, lad. You're only talking nonsense. What kind of a woman do you think she is? Do you imagine she'd be untrue to her best friends? Not a bit of it. She's not like those skunks who deserted us in our time of need at the Post on the far-off Yukon River. They got their desert, though, when they went down in the Liard River. It served them right. No men could do what they did and get off scot free. But Owindia's not like them. Oh, no, don't you have the least fear about her."
Thus through the long afternoon Dan and Natsatt conversed upon the one subject which was so near their hearts. They had changed somewhat in the three years since they had left Fort Yukon on their journey eastward with the boats of the Hudson's Bay Company. The Ranger looked older, and his hair was whiter than ever. But in his eyes dwelt an expression of peace and contentment, which formerly had not been seen there. He no longer cared for roving, but desired rest and quietness. He had Owindia upon whom he could centre his thoughts. He had her to care for, and he had tried to make up to her what he had neglected to do for Klota. Natsatt, too, had changed. He was free and buoyant in spirit as ever, but his nature had become much developed by his contact with the old Ranger. He had settled down to steady business, and his face expressed the resolve of a man who had something to live for, and who meant to succeed in life.
Twilight was stealing over the land when at length they ran out of the lake and entered upon a narrow river. They had not gone far when before them a village appeared to view.
"We're in time!" Natsatt cried, now flushed with excitement.
"Just in time," Dan replied; "with not a minute to spare."
Running their canoe ashore, and making it fast, they walked slowly from the water toward a large building standing somewhat by itself. They saw a number of people entering the door, and others on their way.
"The place will be crowded," Natsatt whispered.
"Shouldn't wonder," was the reply. "We'll slip in and sit well back by the door. Our clothes are too rough to go up in front."
It might seem somewhat strange that these two men who had faced death so often during the past years, and had endured all kinds of hardships should tremble with apprehension as they stood upon the threshold of that building. But they were not accustomed to the ways of civilisation, and felt out of place. They observed the well-dressed people who passed them, and then glanced down at their own rough garments.
The big room they entered was almost filled with men and women. There was a feeling of expectancy in the air. There was much laughing and talking going on, and all seemed in the highest spirits. The place was brightly lighted, and the walls were decorated with pictures and mottoes, while numerous flags were gracefully arranged back of the stage which ran across the upper end of the room.
"Isn't it great!" Natsatt whispered, as his eyes drank in everything he saw. "And to think that she has been here for three years. It seems like holy ground to me."
"Hush," Dan replied. "Look!"
Natsatt glanced quickly up, and there standing on the platform was a tall woman, evidently the Principal in charge of the school. She waited until the room became quiet, and then in a few words expressed her pleasure at seeing so many present. She next gave a sketch of the work which had been accomplished during the past year, and closed by saying that there would be a short entertainment of dialogues, recitations, and songs.
In a few minutes the programme began. Girls came forth, performed their parts and retired to a room at the back of the stage. Dan's and Natsatt's eyes studied every face, and much were they disappointed not to find the one whom they were longing to see. The performance was almost over, when from the side of the platform a maiden appeared, and as she stepped forward Natsatt rose partly from his seat to obtain a better view. Dan gave a half-suppressed exclamation of surprise which caused several people to turn and look in his direction. But he did not know that he had made a sound, for his eyes were upon Owindia. Natsatt quivered with excitement. He had always known that she was beautiful but never did she seem half so lovely as when she appeared before him this night. No longer was she dressed in the quaint native costume, but in a neat white muslin dress, such as all the girls in the school wore on this festive occasion. It fitted her lithe form to perfection. It would have been difficult for the most critical eye to detect any sign of Indian blood in her veins except for a slight dusky shade upon her face, and her raven black hair, combed neatly back. It was her first appearance in public and a certain degree of nervousness was noticeable in her manner. Her eyes searched the faces before her, and at length they lighted up with a pleased expression as she noted two forms sitting back close to the door. Then her embarrassment departed. She straightened herself up to her full height, and the proud spirit of Klitonda, chief of the Ranges, came upon her. Her heart was beating rapidly. It would not do for her to fail. What would Dan and Natsatt think of her? These thoughts flashed through her mind in the twinkling of an eye. Then she opened her lips and began to sing. As her clear sweet voice rang through that building all whispering ceased, and every ear was strained to catch the rich sounds. And when she ceased, for an instant there was a dead silence like the stillness before a storm. Then from the assembled people came a great applause, which would not cease until Owindia re-appeared before them. This time it was a simple song she sang which her mother had taught her years before, and made a greater impression than the first. A hubbub arose when she finished and retired. People asked one another who she was, and why had they not heard of her before. They had not known there was such a voice in the school. Dan and Natsatt sat very still, and listened to what was being said. Their hearts were swelling with pride, and thankfulness. Natsatt was almost beside himself. He found it hard to keep still. He longed to rush forward and seize her in his arms. Three years since he had seen her, and now he was so near and yet so far off.
At last the programme ended with the singing of the National Anthem, and the people began to leave the building. Dan and Natsatt remained where they were, feeling very much out of place. They longed to go forward, and find the one they had come so far to see. But the aisle was filled with people and they must wait. As they sat there keeping their eyes lowered, for they knew that many curious eyes were cast upon them, a familiar voice spoke to them. Looking up Owindia was standing by their side. Her face was flushed with excitement, and as her eyes met Natsatt's a love that years, nay death could not vanquish shone strongly there. Forgotten were her surroundings. She thought only of him. He seized her hands stretched out to him, grasped them, and caught her in his arms. Gone were his old doubts and fears. She was the same Owindia he had left three years before. He held her close to his breast and tried to speak, but words would not come. Happiness such as he had never known had chained him and silenced his tongue. Neither could Owindia speak. She laid her head upon his shoulder, and tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. The excitement of the evening, and the meeting of her lover had greatly affected her. Natsatt understood, and so did the old Ranger who stood silently by watching the two lovers. His heart was overflowing with thankfulness. He did not think of himself, but only of them. At length Owindia disengaged herself, turned to the old man, slipped her hand in his, and looked up into his eyes.
"Kiss me," she said, "and forgive me for not speaking to you before."
Then the Ranger stooped and touched his lips to those rosy ones of the maiden, the first time he had done such a thing since he lost Klota.
"There, that's better," Owindia cried. "Now you must come with me to see the Principal. I have often told her about you both, and she knows everything."
What followed seemed to those two rough frontiersmen like a dream. They were ushered into a fairy-world filled with maidens all dressed in white. Never before did they feel so awkward, and they imagined how ashamed Owindia must be of them. But she was so full of happiness that she never thought about how they were dressed. And the Principal was so kind, and made them feel so much at home that their tongues became loosened and they chatted away as if they had known her for years.
They were two delighted men who left the school that night and made their way to a hotel in the town. Natsatt could hardly wait for morning to dawn, and he lay awake for hours thinking about Owindia.
The next day preparations were made for their departure. There were many things to buy at the store, and Owindia went with them. Dan was delighted as he watched her animated face as she chose this and that piece of goods, and showed what he considered good taste in her choice. At last all was ready. The canoe was loaded with the purchases they had made, the good-byes had been said, and soon they were speeding on their way northward over the great lake. It took them several days to make this journey, and then one evening as the sun was sinking to rest above the tree tops a trading Post in the wilderness came in sight. Several houses were situated near, and as the canoe reached the landing place all the inhabitants, men, women, and children, came to the shore to give them a hearty welcome. A number of white women were present, who took charge of Owindia, and conducted her to one of the houses near by. Then all the people thronged into the little church until there was hardly standing room. Ere long Owindia entered, with Ranger Dan by her side. Natsatt was already in his place. Before them stood the missionary, and in solemn and impressive words made them man and wife.
Following the wedding came the bountiful supper which had been prepared, for so nicely had the home-coming been planned that all knew within a few hours when they would arrive. Owindia was almost dazed by the kindness which was bestowed upon her. It seemed as if she must be dreaming, and would awake to find herself either at the school or away in the wilderness among the Chilcats. But Natsatt sitting on her right, and Dan on her left assured her that it was a sweet reality.
Supper ended, Natsatt twined his arm in hers and led her into the store. She stood looking with wonder upon everything she beheld.
"Is this yours?" she asked.
"It is ours, darling," he replied. "Yours and mine. It is the largest trading Post in the north, and I have done it all for you."
"It is wonderful!" she murmured. "Oh, I am so happy."
Next he led her to a neat log house a few rods away, opened the door and entered. If Owindia gazed with wonder upon the store and cried out with surprise, she was now too much amazed to say a word or utter a sound.