A MAIDEN'S WILL
While Klitonda stood face to face with the Chilcat messenger strange,
deep thoughts were surging through Owindia's nimble brain. She knew that
her father did not fully comprehend the seriousness of their situation.
She felt sure that what the Chilcats said they would do they would
perform to the bitter end. They had been victors too long to be lightly
turned aside from any object upon which they had set their hearts. Her
father had contemptuously called them dogs, but she knew that they
were dogs in the real sense of the term, keen, swift, and relentless.
She studied as only an anxious woman can, the face of the visitor in
an effort to read his thoughts. She admired his coolness, and calm
indifference to danger. Were all the Chilcats as brave as this one? she
wondered. If the messenger was so full of courage what must the chief's
son be like who had sent him forth? What message would this man take
back with him? How would he interpret her father's action, and how long
would it be before the Chilcats began the attack? She thought of her
father, her own people, and of her lover within the Post. The end she
could easily foresee, and a tremor shook her body. They would be slain,
and she herself carried away captive. With her loved ones gone what
would there be in life for her? But with them alive and safe there would
still be hope in her heart.
She remembered the story her mother had frequently told her of the
maiden, who long ago had offered up her life to save her people. She
had been thrilled by the tale, and often she had recalled it as she sat
alone in the lodge out in the wilderness. At times she had thought that
she herself would like to do such a deed as that, and she pictured the
pride which would thrill the hearts of her own people as they related
the story to their little ones around the camp fires. That was the
dream; but here was the stern reality with none of the golden halo of
romance.
Such were the ideas which occupied her mind as she crouched there in
the corner. But when she had leaped to her feet, and diverted the blow
of the descending axe she became firmly convinced as to the course she
should pursue. After her father's wild action she well knew that the
Chilcats would give no quarter unless something intervened, and that
something must be herself. She watched the messenger receive the axe,
and as he left the lodge she glided silently after him out into the
night. He was moving toward the forest, but paused when he heard the
light steps behind. The reflection of the fire dimly illumined his
features, which expressed surprise at the sight of the maiden. For an
instant Owindia's heart faltered, but seeing that the Indian looked not
unkindly upon her, she took courage and glanced up beseechingly into his
face.
"What does the Ayana squaw want?" the messenger questioned, noting her
embarrassment.
"Will the Chilcat braves wait until to-morrow?" she asked in a low
voice. "Will they stay until then from making the attack?"
"Why does the squaw request this?" was the reply. "Why should the
Chilcats wait? Klukwan has the Ayana chief's answer. See, here is the
token of battle," and he held forth the hunting axe.
"Ah, ah. Owindia knows. But there is another way. If the Chilcat braves
will wait until to-morrow night just as the sun is sinking beyond the
tops of the trees, Owindia will be at the great white rock in the valley
with a different message."
"And what will that message be?" the Chilcat queried. "The chief's son
must know, or else he will think that Klukwan is a sly fox, and is
playing with him."
"Tell the chief's son," and here Owindia straightened herself up in a
firm dignified manner, "that his heart's desire will be there."
"What! the Ayana squaw?"
"Ah, ah."
"And she will be the message?"
"Ah, ah."
"The squaw will not fail? If she does not come it will be bad for
Klukwan."
"Bah! Owindia is the daughter of Klitonda; she has white blood in her
veins. She does not lie. She will be there. Go!"
Re-entering the lodge Owindia sat down upon a bear-skin rug, and gave
herself up to thoughts of no enviable nature. She glanced often at her
father's immovable figure before her. But no help could she expect from
him. She had to bear her burden alone, and even Natsatt could not assist
her. To mention her purpose to either her father or her lover would only
mean the defeat of her plan. How dark and terrible appeared the future.
To leave the land of her birth, to forsake her own people, and never
again to look upon the face of the one who had brought such rapturous
joy into her young life. She would see Natsatt, no doubt, on the morrow,
but that would be the last time, and she must betray nothing of her
scheme to him. How she longed for her mother as she crouched there. It
seemed that she had grown so old and care-worn of late. She thought of
her happy girl-hood days, when she had played by the river, and rested
so contentedly at night by her mother's side. Was she thinking of her?
She mused, and did she know anything about her child's troubles?
Thus through the long hours she sat and thought, starting at the
slightest noise, thinking that the Chilcats were upon them. Toward
morning she laid her weary head upon a pillow of furs, and tired out,
slept. It was late when she awoke. Her father had been long astir,
and had their frugal breakfast ready. He was unusually talkative this
morning, and more tender, so Owindia thought. He confided to her the
plan which had been revolving through his brain during the night.
"Little one," he began, "the Chilcats are near, and will soon be upon
us. There is no time to lose. Where are the tokens?"
"Safe, father," Owindia replied, going at once into the lodge, and
bringing forth the score of arrows. "But what will you do with them?"
"Carry them to the hills, little one. The hunters, I believe, are
fishing at the Great Lake. By travelling fast one should reach the place
by night."
"And are you going yourself, father?" Owindia questioned. "Is there not
a young hunter in camp who will go? What about Tesla or Atlin? Each is
strong, and swift as the wild goose."
"Bah! They are no good. They make a big talk when they know they are
safe. But when the Chilcats are near they are frightened at their own
shadows. It is the same with most of the Ayana braves. No, Klitonda must
take the tokens himself. At first he thought of sending his daughter,
but that would not do. The way is too long, and there are many dangers.
You stay in old Kluan's lodge to-night, but if the Coast dogs come, go
into the Post; you will be safe there."
With a sad heart Owindia helped her father make ready for his journey.
Then she bade him good-bye, and watched him until the shadowy forest hid
him from view. She believed that she should never see him again. Amid
the trees whither he had just disappeared she too would soon go, and
what then?
Some time she spent within the lodge, gathering together her few
belongings. Most of them were simple trinkets, several of which had
been given to her by her mother. Next, she braided her long black hair,
and coiled it deftly about her head in the same manner as her mother
had often done. She had no mirror in which to look, and, therefore, had
no idea what a pleasing picture she presented as she sat there alone.
Natsatt had told her time and time again that she was very beautiful,
more so in fact than any woman he had ever seen. She wanted him to
admire her very much on this last day he should ever look upon her face.
How would he like the way she had her hair arranged? she asked herself.
Leaving the lodge she walked slowly toward the river among the various
camps pitched near. She noted that most of the Indians were packing
up their belongings, and some had already taken them to their canoes.
Several had departed, for the arrival of the Chilcats had stricken
terror into their hearts. Reaching the bank of the river Owindia walked
along the shore for some distance. She wished to be alone, to think over
the step she was about to take. Seating herself at length upon a stone
she gazed down pensively at the water flowing by close at her feet. It
was a warm day, and the sun poured its hot beams upon her head. The
birds twittered among the branches of the trees, and darted here and
there through the air. Squirrels scolded, and butterflies zig-zagged
to and fro. But Owindia heeded none of these. Her mind was upon other
things, and she had neither eyes nor ears for the beautiful things of
nature. Time did not matter to her now, for the day had to be passed
somehow. There was no attraction for her at the camp since her father
left. As for Natsatt, she almost dreaded meeting him. Her love was so
strong and deep that she feared when in his presence her resolve might
weaken. Perhaps it would be better to stay where she was away from the
Post, and never see him again. She had about made up her mind to move
farther up the river around a bend in the distance, and there remain
hidden from view, when a step near arrested her attention. Glancing
quickly around she beheld the very person of her thoughts rapidly
approaching. Forgotten for the moment was her firmly-settled resolve,
and a bright smile illumined her face as she rose to meet him.
"Why, little one, I have been looking everywhere for you," Natsatt
cried, as he caught her in his arms. "So you have been sitting here all
by yourself. What have you been doing?"
"Only thinking," the maiden replied, looking up lovingly into his face.
"Ah, that was what you were doing, eh? Thinking of me, no doubt, and
wondering why I was so long in coming. But I couldn't find you for some
time."
"I was thinking about you but the Chilcats would come into my mind too."
At the mention of the Chilcats Natsatt's face became grave, and his
sunny smile disappeared.
"Yes, Owindia," he said, "we are in a serious position. The Coast
Indians have come in strong force, and unless we can make terms with
them they will be upon us in a short time, perhaps to-night. I cannot
believe that they will attack us without sending some one first to have
a talk with Ranger Dan. Surely they do not wish to destroy the white
men, but merely force them to leave the country."
"And will the white traders go if the Chilcats demand it?" Owindia
eagerly asked.
"No. Our leader would never consent to that, I am sure. Remember, we can
put up a great fight behind those walls if all the men will only stand
firm. But if we do go, Owindia must go too. If not, Natsatt will stay."
"The white men must go," Owindia replied, and then she told about the
Chilcat messenger's visit to her father's lodge the previous night. She
mentioned only two of the demands which had been made, and was careful
to say nothing about herself. "They may come to-night," she said in
conclusion, "and if the white traders do not go the Ayana people will be
destroyed. They cannot fight long against the Chilcats. Oh, let them go
while there is time!"
"Don't be afraid, little one," and Natsatt placed his arm tenderly
around the maiden as he spoke. He noted that she was trembling, and
attributed her fear to the presence of the enemy. "But come, I must go
back and tell Dan what you have told me. It will be necessary for him
to know what demands the Chilcats have made. And you must come with me,
darling, into the Post. It will not do for you to stay outside, for you
will be in great danger. All last night I worried about you. You will be
safe within the walls. Ranger Dan and Natsatt will see to that."
But when the young man rose the maiden clung to his arm.
"Don't go yet," she pleaded. "Stay a little longer. Owindia cannot go
into the Post now. She must wait awhile. Will not Natsatt make some
music? Owindia's heart is full of fear, and the sweet sounds will help
her to be strong."
Natsatt needed no second bidding, so drawing forth the mouth-organ he at
once began to play. Forgotten for a time were the Chilcats, and as he
played Owindia felt her courage rise. The chord of high resolve within
her breast was again stirred. The old feeling of fear was banished, and
she was willing to do, and to die if necessary for those she loved.
Little did Natsatt realise what thoughts were passing through the mind
of the young woman at his side. He believed that she had told him all,
and that no veil separated their hearts of love. He was rapturously
happy himself in the presence of Owindia. The charm of her face and
manner appealed to him more than ever. And even when they rose to go
Owindia delayed, threw her arms about his neck, and looked into his
eyes with such beseeching tenderness that the young man was completely
transported with joy. He was still in a state of bliss as he left her
to make his way to the Post, promising that when night fell he would
come for her to take her to a place of safety behind the wooden walls.
Owindia had not said that she would go. She had merely told him to wait,
and with this answer Natsatt had to be content.
Owindia walked slowly back to her father's lodge. Occasionally she
turned and looked longingly toward the large door of the barricade
through which her lover had gone. She paid no heed to the Indians,
neither did she see the medicine man intently watching her some distance
off. She did not know that he had been observing her as she walked along
by Natsatt's side. She could not see the look upon the crafty creature's
face, nor the malignant gleam which shone in his eyes. At the entrance
of the lodge she seated herself, and watched the sun as hour after hour
it dipped lower in the west. At length it swung just above the tops of
the tallest fir trees, ready for its final plunge out of sight. Then
Owindia rose to her feet, entered the lodge, and picking up a sharp
knife slipped it within the bosom of her dress. Next she seized the
small bundle she had made ready, hurried outside, gave one final glance
toward the Post, and disappeared among the trees.