THE VOICE OF THE DECEIVER
When Natsatt left Owindia, the day they had parted from each other, his
heart was full of blissful joy. He recalled every word the maiden had
said, as well as her tokens of affection. He entered the Post like one
in a dream. How good life was to him, he believed. What joy there was
in living when he had so much to live for. He hardly thought of the
presence of the Chilcats, as deep passionate love had driven everything
else from his mind.
He was rudely brought back to earth when once inside the Post. There
he found much activity going on. The men were strengthening the
fortification, looking after the guns and ammunition, while several were
carrying supplies of water from the river. Some cast surly looks upon
Natsatt as he entered, which affected him not in the least. It was only
when he met Ranger Dan was his composure shaken, and his dream-castle
knocked to pieces.
"Where in the devil have you been for such a length of time?" the Ranger
demanded. "The rest of the men have been hard at work, while you have
been loafing. Over to see the squaw, I suppose. I brought you into this
country to work, and not to mope around like a love-sick fool."
Natsatt's face flushed under his leader's words, and he was tempted
to reply in the same coin. He checked himself, however, knowing that
anger would be of no avail. He wished to keep on the good side of Dan,
especially so now as his companions were turning against him.
"Do not judge too harshly, Dan," he replied. "I admit that I have been
neglecting the Post this morning, but perhaps I have done something else
which is just as important, if not more so."
"In what way, young man? Making more love to the chief's daughter? That
no doubt is more important in your eyes, but not in mine, remember."
"Don't be too sure of that, Dan. Suppose I have learned something for
which you have been searching for years? Would you not consider that
important?"
"Hey? What is that you tell me? Something important? There is only one
thing which is of vital importance to me, and it's not likely you have
learned anything about that. Would to God you had!"
"But I have, Dan," Natsatt insisted. "The chief's daughter told me,
and I intended to speak to you about it before, but the arrival of the
Chilcats drove it out of my mind. It's about Klota."
At that name Dan's face underwent a marvellous transformation. The
sarcastic expression disappeared, and an eager light shone in his eyes.
A tremor shook his body, and reaching forward he laid a strong hand
upon the young man's shoulder.
"Speak, speak, quick! and let me know what you have heard," he demanded
in a hoarse whisper. "Is she alive? Is she here?"
"No," Natsatt replied. "She is not here; she is--" His voice faltered,
and he was unable to finish the sentence. How could he tell this old man
the truth? What effect would it have upon him? Perhaps it would break
his heart.
Dan noted the hesitation, and truly read the meaning.
"Dead!" he breathed. "You needn't say the word. I know it already."
He stood for a few seconds looking full into Natsatt's face. In his eyes
dwelt an expression the young man had never seen there before. It told
of the last abandonment of hope, and the end of all earthly desires. He
tottered for an instant, and then sinking upon a bench near by, buried
his face in his hands.
"Dead!" he murmured. "My beautiful Klota dead! Is it possible! Is it
possible! No flower of the forest was as fair as she. No step was as
soft as hers. No eyes ever shone with such a light, and no voice of bird
was half as sweet as hers. And so she is dead! The babe I held to my
breast; the little one who toddled by my side; the child who roamed with
me in the woods is dead. Why did I ever live to learn it? Why did I not
die thinking that she was still alive? What has been the use of all my
wanderings, heart-aches and longings?"
He paused, and sat for some time lost in thought, a pitiable object of
despair. Natsatt did not dare to disturb him, and neither did he wish
to do so. That bent head, with the hair so white and thin touched him
deeply. He longed to go to him, place his arms about him, and tell him
how he sympathised with him in his trouble. But he shrank back at the
idea, feeling sure that the sorrowing Ranger would resent such an act.
At length Dan lifted his head and looked into Natsatt's face.
"Did the girl tell you how Klota died?" he asked. "Did she give any
details?"
"Yes. She said the Chilcats did it."
At this the old man leaped to his feet. His weakness had disappeared.
His appearance at this moment caused the young man to step back a pace.
"The Chilcats, you say?" he demanded. "The Chilcats killed my Klota?"
"That is what Owindia said."
"And how did she know? Did any one see them do it? Tell me, quick."
"She saw the deed herself. She was there when it was done."
"God in heaven!" burst from the Ranger's lips. "It must be true. And
those brutes killed my only child, my darling Klota, and I was not there
to save her! But surely others must have been there besides the girl.
How did she escape?"
"Her father arrived, and meted out a speedy revenge to one of the
Chilcats, and the other got away. There were only two of them."
"Her father, you say? and who was he?"
"Klitonda, the chief of the Ayana. Klota was his wife, and Owindia is
his only child."
At these words Dan stared at Natsatt as if he had not heard aright. The
young man seeing his perplexity hastened to explain.
"Do you not understand?" he asked. "Owindia is none other than Klota's
daughter. Of her you need not be ashamed, for she is the most beautiful
maiden I ever saw."
"Owindia is her name, so you say. And she is beautiful, too. But what
beauty can ever equal my darling Klota. But see, laddie, I must look
upon her. She is Klota's child, and therefore my child. She must come
here at once, and stay at the Post. The Chilcats are prowling around,
and we cannot tell what might happen to her. I have lost one, but it is
something to find another who might be a true daughter to me in my old
age. She must not stay here in the wilderness. I shall take her out to
civilisation, and whatever money can do for her it shall be done. That
will be something to live for. Will she refuse to go, do you think? Will
she care to leave her father?"
"I feel quite sure that she will go," Natsatt replied. "That is, she
told me she would go anywhere with me."
"Will go with you," repeated the Ranger. "Then she loves you, and has
given you her heart. She will not care for an old man. Education will
mean nothing to her, and why should it? Why should one born in this land
care for the ways and benefits of civilisation?"
"But she does care, Dan. She has often told me how she longed for other
things, and is never tired of hearing about the great world beyond the
mountains of the rising sun, as she calls it. She learned much from her
mother, and is anxious to know more."
"True, quite true, lad. She would not be Klota's child if she did not
wish to learn. My mind was so set upon making money that I neglected to
give Klota the education she should have had. I was punished for it.
Perhaps now I can make amends with her child. Yes, she must come to the
Post. And, let me see, she must have a room all by herself. Where can
she stay? Ah, I have it. We will fix up the store. A bed in the farther
corner, a table near by, and we will straighten things up a bit. Klota's
child shall have the best we have to give, and that will be none too
good. Help me, lad, to make the room as cosy as we can, and then you
must bring her here!"
Dan was quite enthusiastic now, and the old expression of hopelessness
had left his face. He had something to live for. Forgotten for a while
were the Chilcats as he and Natsatt set to work to make the store as
comfortable as possible. It took them some time to arrange things to
Dan's complete satisfaction, and then he stood back, and viewed the room.
"It isn't much after all," he remarked. "If we only had a few pictures
to hang on the walls, so they wouldn't look so bare; a looking glass, a
few chairs, and some rugs for the floor. But it's all we've got. I guess
we'll have to wait until we get outside where we can buy such things."
"Suppose we never go outside?" Natsatt questioned. "Suppose the Chilcats
will not let us?"
"Don't you worry about that, lad," was the reply. "What do I care for a
pack of measly Indians? Haven't I lived among them all my life? They'll
never attack us; they're too cowardly for that. When they see our
defence, and some of their men get knocked over, they'll soon beat a
retreat. We're snug in here, and can stand a long siege."
"Do not misjudge the Chilcats, Dan," Natsatt answered. "If what I have
heard is correct we shan't be rid of them in a hurry. They are great
warriors, and are determined to drive us out. They have never been
defeated, and are most blood-thirsty and cruel. Klitonda knows all about
them, and he has told me many things."
"What you say, lad, may be true, but remember, they have never yet run
up against white men with Ranger Dan in charge. I have an old score to
pay back now, have I not? Did they not murder Klota? I am just longing
to get at them. My blood tingles, and my fingers twitch. I am an old
man, but there is the spirit of youth in my veins still. I was somewhat
of a fighter in my younger days, and I guess I can fight some yet,
especially against the Chilcat murderers. But, there, that will do. We
have talked too long already, and it's getting late. You had better
hurry off for the maid. I am anxious to see her. In the meantime I shall
find out what the men are doing outside. They are inclined to loaf of
late, and are quite surly at times. There seems to be something brewing,
which I can't altogether fathom. But if they try any of their ugly
tricks with me it won't be well with them, I can tell you that."
Natsatt knew full well that there was something wrong with the men,
and he was fully aware of the cause. But he did not wish to be a
tale-bearer. He, therefore, left the store and made his way over to the
chief's abode, while Dan went out to see what the men were doing.
Natsatt was not long in reaching the lodge where he expected to find
Owindia. He noted that most of the Indians had left the place, and that
those who remained were carrying their few belongings to their canoes
preparatory for a speedy departure.
At the chief's lodge no one was to be seen. The robes remained inside,
while several kettles were found outside. He called Owindia by name, but
received no reply. What had become of her? he wondered. Perhaps she had
gone back to the shore where he had found her that day. He started for
the river, and had gone but a short distance when he came to the lean-to
of Nagu, the medicine man. He did not wish to speak to the creature, and
was about to pass when the conjurer suddenly arose from his squatting
position and stood before him. Upon his face was an expression of
diabolical hatred, and his hands and arms moved to and fro in an excited
manner.
"What's the matter?" Natsatt demanded in the native tongue. "Is anything
wrong? What do you want? I have nothing to give you."
"Nagu, the great medicine man, wants nothing," was the savage reply. "He
would not take anything from the half-breed dog. Why does he come here?
Why do the white men come into this country? They will never go out
again. The Chilcats will fall upon them, and there will not be one left.
Does the half-breed think that he will take away the chief's daughter
beyond the great mountains?"
"Yes, the half-breed thinks he will," Natsatt replied. "All the Chilcats
on the coast cannot stop him. He is not afraid of them."
"The half-breed's words are big," Nagu rejoined. "But he does not know
the Chilcats, and he does not know the chief's daughter. He thinks he
does, but he is mistaken."
"What do you mean? I don't understand you," and Natsatt looked keenly
into the creature's cunning eyes as he spoke.
"Does the half-breed want to know? Will he like to hear what Nagu can
tell him?"
"Yes. What can you say that will trouble me?"
"Nagu can tell much, for he has seen and heard. He saw the Chilcat
messenger in Klitonda's lodge. He listened to what was said, and he saw
the chief's daughter go away. What does the half-breed think of that?"
"You saw the Chilcat messenger in the chief's lodge, and watched Owindia
go away with him," Natsatt repeated in a puzzled manner. "Your words are
strange. Do you know what you are saying?"
"Ah, ah, Nagu knows. The Chilcat chief's son sent for Klitonda's
daughter. He wants her for his wife."
A great fear now leaped into Natsatt's heart. He felt that he had not
heard aright. And yet there could be no mistake. The medicine man had
spoken, and what reason had he for doubting his words. All his calmness
had left him, and a nameless something overwhelmed him. Owindia gone
away to be the wife of a Chilcat! It could not be. He would not believe
such a thing about Owindia. It angered him to think that any one would
say such a thing about her. He remembered her words that afternoon, and
her clinging affection.
"You villain!" he cried. "You lie! Why do you tell such a story to me?
Do you think I will believe you. Owindia is not such a creature as you
are to turn away from the one she loves."
The medicine man's eyes grew smaller until they became like two narrow
slits. His hands and arms ceased their wild movements.
"The half-breed thinks that Nagu lies, does he? Let him think so, then.
But he will find out in time, and he will remember that he was told the
truth."
"But why should Owindia go to the Chilcats?" Natsatt queried. "Are they
not her enemies? Why should she leave her father, and her own people?"
"Nagu has spoken," was the reply. "He has told the half-breed what he
has seen and heard. If he does not believe him let him go to the Chilcat
dogs and learn for himself."
Natsatt looked for a short time upon the medicine man, and then without
another word left him, and went back to Klitonda's lodge. He wished
to be alone to think over what he had just heard. Perhaps it was all
a base lie. He knew much about the wiles of these northern conjurers.
They would stoop to any depth in order to further their evil designs.
But what purpose could Nagu have now? Why should he concoct such a story
about Owindia? What object could he have in view? But try as he might
he could not banish the horrible thought from his mind, that there was
much truth in the story. And where was Klitonda? What had become of
him? Surely he would not let his daughter go to the Chilcats. He would
rather see her dead than that such a thing should happen. Thus the more
he racked his brain for a solution of the problem the more mysterious it
became.
He stayed for a while at the lodge, hoping that Owindia would appear.
But when she did not come he at length made his way slowly back to the
Post. He dreaded to tell Dan what he had learned. What would the old
man say, and how would he feel? He found him with the men in the large
room adjoining the store. The Ranger looked expectantly up as Natsatt
entered, but said nothing when he saw that he was alone. He noted
the disappointed expression upon his face, and realised at once that
something was wrong. He waited, however, until supper was ended, and
then drawing the young man into the store questioned him eagerly about
the maiden.
And Natsatt told him the whole story just as he had received it from the
medicine man.
"I can't understand it," he said in conclusion. "It is not like Owindia.
She would never do such a thing. I cannot believe that she would leave
me to go to the Chilcats. She is too true for that. And besides, her
father would not let her go."
"It is certainly strange," Dan replied. "The medicine man may have
invented this lie for some purpose, you can never trust one of those
creatures. But speculation won't do us any good. We must find out where
the girl is. If she is with the Chilcats, and has gone of her own free
will, I don't see that we can do anything. But if they have stolen her
away, and are keeping her as prisoner then by heavens! we've got to do
something, and the sooner we make a move the better."
"That's my opinion, too, Dan," Natsatt quietly remarked. "Do you think I
could stay here all night knowing that Owindia was out there with those
devils against her will? We must know the truth at once."
"And what is your plan, lad?"
"With your permission I shall visit the Chilcat camp to-night, find out
if she is there, and learn the strength of the Coast Indians. It is
certainly important for us to know."
"You are right, you are right," the Ranger mused. "We should know how
many there are who have come against us. But it will be a difficult
undertaking. However, it can't be helped. You have my consent to go, but
be very careful. I don't want to lose you."