NESIS.
After this, Ambrose's dreary imprisonment took on a new color. True,
the hours next day threatened to drag more slowly than ever, but with
the hope that it might be the last day he could bear it philosophically.
Hour after hour he paced his floor on springs. "Tomorrow the free sky
over my head!" he told himself. "I'll be doing something again!"
He watched the teepees with an added interest, wondering if any of the
women's figures he saw might be hers. The most he could distinguish at
the distance was the difference between fat and slender.
In the middle of the morning he saw Watusk ride forth, accompanied by
four men that he guessed were the councilors. Watusk now had a
military aspect.
On his head he wore a pith helmet, and across the frock coat a broad
red sash like a field marshal's. He and his henchmen climbed the trail
leading back to Enterprise.
Later, Ambrose saw a party of women leave camp, carrying birch-bark
receptacles that looked like school-book satchels. They commenced to
pick berries on the hillside. Ambrose wondered if his little friend
were among them.
They gradually circled the hill and approached his shack. As they drew
near he finally recognized Nesis in one who occasionally straightened
her back and glanced toward his window. She was slenderer than the
others.
The shack stood on a little terrace of clean grass. Above it and below
stretched the rough hillside, covered with scrubby bushes and weeds.
It was in this rough ground that the women were gathering wild
cranberries.
Coming to the edge of the grass, they paused with full satchels,
talking idly, nibbling the fruit and casting inquisitive glances toward
Ambrose's prison.
There were eight of them, and Nesis stood out from the lot like a star.
The four men playing poker in the grass at one side paid no attention
to them.
Nesis with a sly smile whispered in her neighbor's ear. The other girl
grinned and nodded, the word was passed around, and they all came
forward a little way in the grass with a timid air.
Their inquisitive eyes sought to pierce the obscurity of the shack.
Ambrose, not yet knowing what was expected of him, kept in the
background.
The fat girl, prompted and nudged by Nesis, suddenly squalled something
in Kakisa, which convulsed them all. Ambrose had no difficulty in
recognizing it as a derisive, flirtatious challenge.
Not to be outdone, he came to the window and answered in kind. They
could not contain their laughter at the sound of the comical English
syllables.
Badinage flew fast after that. Ambrose observed that Nesis herself
never addressed him, but circulated slyly from one to another, making a
cup of her hand at each ear.
Becoming emboldened, they gradually drew closer to the window. They
made outrageous faces. Still the poker-players affected not to be
aware of them. As men and hunters they disdained to notice such
foolishness.
Suddenly Nesis, as if to prove her superior boldness, darted forward to
the very window. Ambrose, startled by the unexpected move, fell back a
step. Nesis put her hands on the sill and shrieked an unintelligible
jibe into the room.
The other girls hugged themselves with horrified delight. This was too
much for the jailers. They sprang up and with threatening voice and
gestures drove the girls away. They scampered down-hill, shrieking
with affected terror.
When Nesis placed her hands on the sill a thin package slipped out of
her sleeve and thudded upon the floor. Ambrose's heart jumped.
As the girls ran away, under cover of leaning out and calling after
them, he pushed her gift under the table with his foot. One of the
jailers, coming to the window and glancing about the room, found him
unconcernedly lighting his pipe.
When the poker game was resumed Ambrose retired with his prize to the
farthest corner of the shack. It proved to be the knife he had asked
for, a keen, strong blade.
She had wrapped it in a piece of moose hide to keep it from clattering
on the floor. Ambrose's heart warmed toward her anew. "She's as
plucky and clever as she is friendly," he thought. He stuffed the
knife in his bed and resigned himself as best he could to wait for
darkness.
Fortunately for his store of patience, the days were rapidly growing
shorter. His supper was brought him at six, and when he had finished
eating it was dark enough to begin work.
Outside the moon's first quarter was filling the bowl of the hills with
a delicate radiance, but moonlight outside only made the interior of
the shack darker to one looking in.
Ambrose squatted in the corner at the foot of his bed, and set to work
as quietly as a mouse in the pantry.
He had finished his hole in the flooring and was commencing to dig in
the earth, when a soft scratching on the wall gave notice of Nesis's
presence outside.
"Angleysman, you there?" she whispered through the chink.
"Here!" said Ambrose.
"The boat is ready," she said. "I got grub and blanket and gun."
"Ah, fine!" whispered Ambrose.
"You almost out?" she asked.
He explained his situation.
"I dig this side, too," she said. "We dig together. Mak' no noise!"
Since the shack was innocent of foundation it was no great matter to
dig under the wall. With knife and hands Ambrose worked on his side
until he had got deep enough to dig under.
Occasional little sounds assured him that Nesis was not idle. Suddenly
the thin barrier of earth between them caved in, and they clasped hands
in the hole.
Five minutes more of scooping out and the way was clear. Ambrose
extended his long body on the floor and wriggled himself slowly under
the log.
Outside an urgent hand on his shoulder restrained him. Throwing
herself on the ground, she put her lips to his ear. "Go back!" she
whispered. "The moon is moch bright. You must wait little while."
Ambrose, mad to taste the free air of heaven, resisted a little
sullenly.
"Please go back!" she whispered imploringly. "I come in. I got talk
with you."
He drew himself back into the shack with none too good a grace.
Standing over the hole when she appeared, he put his hands under her
arms and, drawing her through, stood her upon her feet.
He could have tossed the little thing in the air with scarcely an
effort. She turned about and came close to him.
"I so glad to be by you!" she breathed.
She emanated a delicate natural fragrance like pine-trees or wild
roses--but Ambrose could only think of freedom.
"You managed to get here without being seen," he grumbled.
"You foolish!" she whispered tenderly. "I little. I can hide behind
leaves sof' as a link. Your white face him show by the moon lak a
little moon. Are you sorry you got stay with me little while?"
"No!" he said. "But--I'm sick to be out of this!"
She put her hands on his shoulders and drew him down. "Sit on the
floor," she whispered. "Your ear too moch high for my mouth."'
They sat, leaning against the footboard of the bed, Like a confiding
child she snuggled her shoulder under his arm and drew the arm around
her. What was he to do hut hold her close?
"It is true, you ver' moch strong," she murmured. "Lak a bear. But a
bear is ogly."
"You didn't think I was pretty to-day, did you,", he said with a grin,
"with a week's growth on my chin?"
She softly stroked his cheek. "Wah!" she said, laughing. "Lak
porcupine! Red man not have strong beard lak that. They say you
scrape it off with a knife every day."
"When I have the knife," said Ambrose.
"Why you do that?" she asked. "I lak see it grow down long lak my
hair. That would be wonderful!"
Ambrose trembled with internal laughter.
"I lak everything of you," she murmured.
He was much troubled between his gratitude and his inability to
reciprocate the naïve passion she had conceived for him. It is
pleasant to be loved and flattered and exalted, but it entails
obligations.
"I never can thank you properly for what you've done," he said clumsily.
"I do anything for you," she said quickly. "So soon my eyes see you to
the dance I know that. Always before that I am think about white men.
I not see no white men before, only the little parson, and the old men
at the fort. They not lak you? My father is the same as me. He lak
white men. We talk moch about white men. My fat'er say to me never
forget the Angleys talk. Do I spik Angleys good, Angleysman?"
"Fine!" whispered Ambrose.
She pulled his head forward so that she could breathe her soft speech
directly in his ear.
"My father and me not the same lak other people here. We got white
blood. Men not talk with their girls moch. My fat'er talk man talk
with me. Because he is got no boys, only me. So I know many things.
"I think, women's talk foolish. Many tam my fat'er say to me, Angleys
talk mak' men strong. He say to me, some day Watusk kill me for cause
I spik the Angleys.
"So in the tam of falling leaves lak this, three years ago, my fat'er
he is go down the river to the big falls to meet the people from Big
Buffalo Lake.
"My fat'er and ten men go. Bam-by them come back. My fat'er not in
any dugout. Them say my fat'er is hunt with Ahcunza one day. My
fat'er is fall in the river and go down the big falls.
"They say that. But I know the truth. Ahcunza is a friend of Watusk.
Watusk give him his vest with goldwork after. My fat'er is dead. I am
lak wood then. My mot'er sell me to Watusk. I not care for not'ing."
"Your mother, sell you!" murmured Ambrose.
"My mot'er not lak me ver' moch," said Nesis simply. "She mad for
cause I got white blood. She mad for cause my fat'er all tam talk with
me."
"Three years ago!" said Ambrose. "You must have been a little girl
then!"
"I fourteen year old then. My mot'er got 'not'er osban' now. Common
man. They gone with Buffalo Lake people. I not care. All tam I think
of my fat'er. He is one fine man.
"Las' summer the priest come here. Mak' good talk, him. Say if we
good, bam-by we see the dead again. What you think, is that true talk,
Angleysman?"
Ambrose's arm tightened around the wistful child. "Honest truth!" he
whispered.
She opened her simple heart fully to him. Her soft speech tumbled out
as if it had been dammed all these years, and only now released by a
touch of kindness.
Ambrose was touched as deeply as a young man may be by a woman he does
not love, yet he could not help glancing over her head at the square of
sky obliquely revealed through the window. It gradually darkened.
"The moon has gone down," he said at last.
Nesis clung to him. "Ah, you so glad to leave me!" she whimpered.
He gently released himself. "Think of me a little," he said. "I must
get a long start before daylight."
She buried her face on her knees. Her shoulders shook.
"Nesis!" he whispered appealingly.
She lifted her head and flung a hand across her eyes. "No good cry,"
she murmured. "Come on!"
Nesis led the way out through the hole they had dug. Job followed
Ambrose. Outside, for greater safety, he took the dog in his arms.
The moon had sunk behind the hill across the river, but it was still
dangerously bright. Nesis took hold of Ambrose's sleeve and pointed
off to the right. She whispered in his ear:
"Ev'ry tam feel what is under your foot before step hard."
She did not make directly for the river, but led him step by step up
the hill toward a growth of timber that promised safety. The first
hundred yards was the most difficult.
They rose above the shack into the line of vision of the guards in
front, had they elevated their eyes. Nesis, crouching, moved like a
cat after a bird.
Ambrose followed, scarcely daring to breathe. Even the dog understood
and lay as if dead in Ambrose's arms.
The danger decreased with every step. When they gained the trees they
could fairly count themselves safe. Even if an alarm were raised now
it would take time to find them in the dark.
Nesis, still leading Ambrose, pattered ahead as if every twig in the
bush was familiar to her. She did not strike down to the river until
they had gone a good way around the side of the hill.
This brought them to the water's edge at a point a third of a mile or
more below the teepees. Ambrose distinguished a bark canoe drawn up
beneath the willows. In it lay the outfit she had provided.
He put it in the water, and Job hopped into his accustomed place in the
bow.
"You love that dog ver' moch," Nesis murmured jealously.
"He's all I've got," said Ambrose.
Her hand swiftly sought his.
"Tell me how I should go," said Ambrose hastily, fearing a
demonstration.
Nesis drew a long sigh. "I tell you," she said sadly. "They say it is
four sleeps to the big falls. Two sleeps by quiet water. Many bad
rapids after that. You mus' land by every rapid to look. They say the
falls mak' no noise before they catch you. Ah! tak' care!"
"I know rivers," said Ambrose.
"They say under the water is a cave with white bones pile up!" she
faltered. "They say my fat'er is there. I 'fraid for you to go!"
"I'll be careful," he said lightly. "Don't you worry!"
"At the falls," she went on sadly, "you mus' land on the side away from
the sun, and carry your canoe on your back. There is pretty good
trail. Three miles. After that one more sleep to the big lake. A
Company fort is there."
Like an honest man he dreaded the mere formulas of thanks at such a
moment, but neither could an honest man forego them. "How can I ever
repay you!" he mumbled.
She clapped a warm hand over his mouth.
As he was about to step in the canoe Ambrose saw a bundle lying on the
ground to one side that he had not remarked before. "What is that?" he
asked.
"Nothing for you," she said quickly.
The evasive note made him insist upon knowing.
For a long time she would not tell, thus increasing his determination
to find out. Finally she said very low: "I jus' foolish. I think
maybe--maybe you want tak' me too!"
Ambrose's heart was wrung. His arm went around her with a right good
will. "You poor baby!" he murmured. "I can't!"
She struggled to release herself. "All right," she said stiffly. "I
not think you tak' me. Only maybe."
"By God!" swore Ambrose. "If I live through my troubles I'll find a
way of getting you out of yours!"
"Ah, come back!" she murmured, clinging to his arm.
"Good-by," he said.
"Wait!" she said, clinging to him. She lifted her face. "Kiss me
once, lak' white people kiss!"
He kissed her fairly.
"Goo'-by," she whispered. "I always be think of you. Goo'-by,
Angleysman!"