THROUGH THE WILDERNESS
Jean learned about her defenders' success upon their return to the
lodge. She had been anxiously awaiting their coming, and when they did
arrive and she saw the booty they carried with them, her heart sank
within her. The slashers must all have been slain, so she imagined.
When Sam, however, told her what had happened, she was greatly relieved.
"Will they trouble us any more?" she asked.
"No more now," and Sam smiled. "White man head hurt. Sore. Slashers
much 'fraid. Go 'way queek."
"Oh, I am so glad," and Jean gave a sigh of relief. She felt quite
secure now, and she looked with admiration upon the hardy Indians who
had done so much for her. She thanked them, and they were pleased at
her words. To see this white girl happy made up somewhat for their
disappointment of the night.
The next day the visitors left for their own lodges, so once again Jean
and her two companions were alone. The days that followed were busy
ones for the Indians. There were many things to do before starting on
their long journey overland of which Jean had no idea. First of all,
there was a travelling-suit to be made for the white girl. From the
cache Sam brought down some soft, tanned caribou skin, and upon this
Kitty began to work. Jean watched her with great interest and
admiration.
"What do you call that?" she enquired, pointing to the skin. "Will you
teach me some of your words? I want to speak Indian."
Kitty looked at the girl and laughed.
"Injun talk hard," she said. "Babby spik Injun, eh?"
"Yes, will you teach me? Now, what do you call this skin?"
"Mu-ka-lip-we-u," was the reply.
"And what is the name of that sinew-thread?"
"Tun-u-wan."
Jean repeated these words, and so well did she speak them that Kitty
was much pleased.
"Babby learn queek," she encouraged. "Babby spik all sam' Injun
bimeby."
"I am going to learn Indian," Jean declared, "and I want you to tell me
the names of many things."
The studying of the Maliseet language was a new pleasure to Jean, and
she made excellent progress. She asked the names of various things
about the camp, and in a few days she had stored up in her mind quite a
stock of words. She now spoke of the fire as "skwut," firewood as
"Skwut-o-e-to'tch," the mouth as "hu-ton," eyes as "u-si-suk," hair as
"pi-es." There was no end to the words she learned, and both Sam and
Kitty vied with each other in teaching her. When Sam brought in a
rabbit he would hold it up and say "Ma-tu-kwes," or if a partridge,
"se-se-ka-ti-ke-es." Then he would laugh as Jean tried to pronounce
the words.
When the ice was firm enough to venture upon, Jean watched Sam as he
cut a hole, dropped down a line, and brought forth a fine speckled
trout. As the fish flopped about, he exclaimed, "Sko-tum! Sko-tum!"
One day he produced a piece of ash wood, and began to make the frames
of a pair of snow-shoes.
"Ha-kum-mul," he said.
"What is that?" Jean asked.
"Snow-shoes for babby. Long trip bimeby."
"What! am I to use them?"
"A-ha-ha. When wast come."
"What is wast?"
"Snow. Plenty bimeby."
When Sam had finished the frames of the snow-shoes, Kitty set at once
to work to weave the web of strips of dried caribou skin. Jean was
even more interested in this than she had been in the making of her
travelling-suit, and she was never tired of watching the woman's
skilful fingers as she fashioned the warp and woof upon the frames
until the perfect webs were completed. What strong snow-shoes they
were, and how graceful! Jean was anxious to try them, and longed for
the snow to come.
But during this time of waiting Kitty began the training of the girl
for the hard march overland. Every day she would take her into the
woods for a walk. At first Jean was quite tired when she returned to
the lodge, but ere long she was able to travel much farther, and came
back fresh and unwearied. She understood the meaning of these trips,
and enjoyed them. The harder she trained the more fitted she would be
to contend with the difficulties which lay ahead. Her body thrilled
with excitement, and her cheeks glowed with animation whenever she
thought of the joy of going home. Seldom were her loved ones out of
her mind, and she pictured her father's delight when she opened the
door and walked in, clad in her caribou-suit. How the people of the
settlement would throng around her, and what a story she would have to
tell. She wondered what had become of Dane. She believed that he was
frantically searching for her, and the hope dwelt in her heart that he
might find her and they would go home together.
After a week of steady training Jean was anxious to begin the journey.
When she mentioned this to Sam he shook his head and looked up at the
moon which was shining above the tree-tops.
"Pu-sa-nuts se-pa-wun-ok," he said.
Seeing the puzzled expression upon the girl's face, he laughed.
"Beeg snow soon."
"How do you know?"
"Ni-pauk-set--moon-tell Sam."
"How does the moon tell you?"
"Ring round moon, see? Bimeby no moon. Beeg snow."
And in this the Indian was right. Toward morning a wind sprang up and
wailed through the forest. When Jean opened her eyes the next morning
the trees were swaying beneath a strong nor'easter. The sky was
leaden, and the air already flecked with fine snow. In another hour
the storm was upon them in full intensity, driving across the lake, and
blotting out the opposite shore from view. It beat against the thicket
in its frantic efforts to reach the little lodge. To keep out the
stray gusts which did occasionally escape the barricade of trees, Sam
hung skins and blankets across the two ends of the abode. Thus within
all was snug and warm. The fire burned brightly, and the smoke poured
up through the wide space overhead. The roar of the storm in the
forest sounded like the raging of the sea, and the waving of the
tree-tops resembled the rolling and heaving of mighty billows. It was
an exciting day to Jean. Never before had she witnessed such a storm.
The fiercer it raged, and the more furiously it howled and beat against
the sheltering trees, the more delighted she became. From a small
opening on the south of the lodge she could see the snow swirling along
the shore of the lake and piling up in long drifts against several
fallen trees. It was good to be in such a cosy place where she could
watch unharmed the trumpeting legions of the great nor'easter.
All through the day the storm continued, and night brought no
abatement. It was still raging when Jean curled herself up in her
blankets and lay there watching the dancing flames and the two Indians
quietly and contentedly smoking on the opposite side of the fire. At
length her eyes closed, and lulled by the tempest, she was soon fast
asleep.
When she awoke the next morning the sun was shining brightly, and a
great peace lay upon forest and lake. It was a new world upon which
she opened her eyes, a world of dazzling glory, somewhat akin to the
vision vouchsafed to the ancient seer in his lonely island when he
beheld a new heaven and a new earth.
Jean was all eagerness now to assay her first venture upon her new
snow-shoes. The simple breakfast ended, and clad in her woodland suit,
Sam taught her how to arrange the magic slippers upon her moccasined
feet. How Dane's heart would have thrilled could he have seen her
standing before the lodge, her lithe, supple body drawn to its full
height, her face aglow, her eyes sparkling, and her furry cap poised
lightly upon her head surrounded by a wealth of soft, billowy hair.
The rude lodge, the great trees, and the fair girl standing there
formed a scene of surpassing charm which many an artist would have
given much to capture.
At first Jean found the walking on the snow-shoes somewhat difficult,
and many a tumble did she receive which caused Kitty much amusement.
But directed by the Indian woman, she soon overcame her awkwardness and
ere long was able to move forward gracefully and rapidly. In two days
she was quite an expert, and could even run upon the springing
snow-shoes, much to the delight of the two natives.
"Ka-lo-ut. Ka-lo-ut--Good. Good," was Sam's comment as he watched her
coming off the lake at the end of the second day of training. "Babby
walk all sam' Injun now."
The next morning the Indians began to pack up their few belongings, and
Jean was delighted when they told her that at last the long overland
journey was to begin. The streams were now frozen, and the travelling
good.
"How long will it take us to make the journey?" Jean asked Sam.
"Long tam. Wan moon, mebbe. Two moon, mebbe."
"What! two months?"
"A-ha-ha, mebbe. See bimeby."
It was near mid-day when at last everything was ready and they left the
little lodge by the lake and plunged into the forest. A pang of regret
smote Jean's heart as she cast a backward glance upon the humble abode.
She had spent happy days there, and it had been to her a place of
refuge from her pursuers. She knew that she would never see it again.
Suppose Dane should come to the lodge and find it deserted!
The journey through the forest was of necessity slow. With a pack upon
his back, and drawing a small sled loaded with blankets and food, Sam
went ahead and broke the trail. Kitty followed, also carrying a heavy
load and the musket. Jean brought up the rear, and she found the
walking quite easy owing to the excellent trail beaten down by her
thoughtful companions. She had insisted upon carrying something, so a
small pack had been made up for her and strapped in Indian fashion
across her shoulders. This pleased her, as she felt that she was doing
a little, at any rate, to help.
It was a wonderful region through which they moved. Up hill and down,
across wild meadows and frozen swamps. Most of the time they travelled
through great forest tracts, unharmed as yet by fire or axe. The
trees, thick-set and tall, reminded Jean of great masts. A brooding
silence reigned in these sombre depths, broken only by an occasional
chatter of a surprised squirrel, the whirr of a partridge, or the
cheepings of the little chickadees as they hopped from branch to
branch. Once during the afternoon they stopped and ate a little of the
cooked food Kitty had brought along. Jean was glad of this rest, for
notwithstanding the training she had received, she was quite weary.
She was most thankful when that evening Sam halted by the side of a
little brook, unslung his pack and laid it upon the snow.
"Yut-ku-lo-wut," he said.
"What does that mean?" Jean asked.
"Good camp-place."
Then he turned to his wife.
"Mu-tu-o-to," he said, which the girl knew as the order to build a
fire. She was pleased that she understood this command, and it
encouraged her to continue the study of the native language.
While Kitty, with Jean's assistance, gathered some dry wood, and
lighted the fire, Sam erected a lean-to. Thus by the time darkness
enshrouded the land they were ready for the night. It was good to lie
down and rest after the march of the day, and Jean soon feel asleep.
Thus for several days they continued their journey, travelling by easy
stages. Jean was more accustomed now to the trail, and the stiffness
of the first two days had worn away. It was welcome news to her,
however, when Sam one night told her that by sundown on the morrow they
should be at the big river, the Wu-las-tukw.
"Oh, I am so glad," she fervently replied. Once on the noble St. John
it would seem almost home.
The next day they passed through a wonderful forest of great white
pines. Never had Jean seen anything like them. They were as straight
as arrows, and their tops seemed to her to reach the clouds drifting
overhead. Ere long she noticed that many of them bore the axe blaze,
and examining more closely, she saw the form of a broad arrow cut deep
into the bark. "What is that?" she asked.
"King George arrow," Sam explained. "All King George tree," and he
waved his hand in an eloquent gesture. "White man cut'm bimeby."
"Oh, I know," Jean exclaimed as she recalled what Dane had told her.
"These are for masts for the King's navy, are they not?"
"A-ha-ha."
"Are there mast-cutters near here?"
"Off dere," and Sam motioned westward.
"Will we see them?"
"No see'm now. Bimeby, mebbe."
"Where are they?"
Sam stopped, stooped and with his forefinger made two parallel lines in
the snow several inches apart.
"A-jem-sek," he said, touching the nearer line. "Wu-las-tukw," and he
touched the other. He next placed his finger between the two. "White
man here," he explained. "Plenty King George tree."
"Is A-jem-sek a river?" Jean asked.
"A-ha-ha."
"Will we soon be there?"
"Wan sight, mebbe."
Jean had learned that these Indians measured short distances according
to sight, and that they said "one sight," "two sights," "three sights,"
instead of miles. She now knew that the A-jem-sek, whatever that river
might be, was not far away, and that it must be a branch of the St.
John. And between the two, farther on, were the King's mast-cutters.
Her hopes rose high. How good it would be to see white men she could
trust. They would help her to reach home, she felt certain.
They were moving down a gentle slope now, and making fair progress.
Suddenly Sam stopped, and examined strange straggling tracks in the
snow. Kitty and Jean also looked, the latter asking what they meant.
"White man," Sam explained. "No snow-shoe."
"Are they slashers?" Jean anxiously enquired.
Sam shook his head, and examined the tracks more closely.
"No slasher, no snow-shoe," he said. "Funny track, all sam' lost."
As they proceeded, they came across other tracks, showing where men had
been walking through the snow, wandering here and there, in an
apparently aimless manner. Sam became very curious now, as well as
cautious. He took the musket from Kitty, and carried it in readiness
for any emergency. Jean was quite excited, and peered keenly ahead,
not knowing what to expect next.
Except for the creaking of the snow-shoes, not a sound did they make as
they sped onward, and in about half an hour the trees seemed suddenly
to part and present an open space to their view. It was the A-jem-sek,
a narrow stream connecting Lake K'tchi-kwis-pam with the Wu-las-tukw,
so Sam explained to Jean. As they stepped out upon this river they saw
two men but a short distance away, drawing a small sled loaded with
wood, who stared with startled amazement at the sudden appearance of
the three travellers.