THE CALL OF THE HEART
When Natsatt reached the Post after his experience in the forest, and
his conflict with the Chilcat, he found that Dan was watching for his
return, and eagerly opened the gate in the fortification for him to
enter. The rest of the men were astir. In fact a number of them had been
on guard all through the night, and were weary after their fruitless
watch. As soon as breakfast was over they threw themselves into their
bunks, and ere long were fast asleep. Natsatt noted that his companions
desired to shun him. They neither spoke to him nor made any remark as to
his absence. A feeling of conspiracy seemed to prevail which he could
not comprehend. He knew why several hated him, but could not understand
why all should turn against him.
Dan alone was unchanged, and to him Natsatt told of his experience
during the past night, and of his victory over the cowardly assailant.
To all this the Ranger listened most intently. At times his brow
knitted, and his eyes expressed surprise.
"I can't understand it, lad," he said, when Natsatt had ended. "The
lassie seems to be a prisoner among them, but why she did not leave
when she had an opportunity, puzzles me."
"She went there herself," Natsatt replied, "to save us and her own
people. I forced that much from the Chilcat when I had the measly wretch
upon his back. He didn't wish to tell me at first, but when he felt
the sharp point of my hunting-knife tickling his ribs in no delicate
manner he was quite ready to speak. He was lucky to get off with only
the tickling, I can tell you that. He deserved the knife right up to the
handle for his base attack."
"I'm glad you let him off, lad. Never shed blood if you can possibly
avoid it. Besides, he was down, and could not help himself. So the
lassie went away to save us, he told you. It was certainly brave of
her. But it's just what her mother would have done. She would sacrifice
anything for the sake of those she loved. But there, you go off and have
a sleep, while I think over what you have told me. We must save the
lassie, but how it is to be done is another matter."
Natsatt made his way to his bunk, but he found it impossible to sleep.
Owindia was ever before his mind, and he reproached himself for having
left her alone with the Chilcats. Why had he not rushed forward and
rescued her from their midst? he asked himself over and over again. It
would have been better to die by her side, trying to save her, than to
live without her. He thought of what the Chilcat had told him. Would
Owindia really become the wife of the chief's son? Would she go back
with him over the mountain, and he would never see her again? The idea
was too horrible to be entertained even for a moment. He sprang from his
bunk. Why was he lying there when she whom he loved better than life
itself was in danger of being snatched away from him forever? He must go
to her. Nothing could stop him now.
Hardly knowing what course to pursue in order to carry out his design,
he made his way out of the building toward the great door of the
barricade. On the threshold he stopped, for there before him were
Dan and several of the men, peering intently through several of the
port-holes, which had been made in the fortification. That they were
deeply interested was evident from their excited manner. Natsatt pushed
his way among them and at length caught a glimpse of the open space
outside the Post. At once a half-smothered cry of astonishment escaped
his lips, and pushing aside the man nearest him, he put his face close
to the hole to obtain a better view. And then he saw all that was
taking place; Owindia, with the two Chilcats by her side. What did it
mean? he asked himself. What was she doing there? And as he watched he
saw her turn her face toward the Post and speak. He could hear every
word distinctly, and at first he was puzzled as to her meaning. Then
the truth flashed upon him. She was sacrificing herself to save them.
She would be true to the white men. He hardly heard what she said in
conclusion, for his brain was in a whirl of excitement. He knew now
that the Chilcats had brought her there in order to betray the traders,
and how angry they would be when they learned what she had said. What
would happen when she went back to the camp? They would no doubt subject
her to much cruelty, and perhaps put her to death. No, it must not be
permitted. Now was the time to rescue her. He forgot for the moment what
she had said about the Indians lurking on the border of the forest. He
saw only the two Chilcats who were with Owindia. He could fight them,
and recover his loved one.
He turned away from the port-hole and walked rapidly toward the large
door. But Dan was by his side in an instant, and laid his hand upon the
young man's shoulder.
"You must not do it," he said. "It's too great a risk. The devils are
among the trees as thick as flies. The whole bunch of us could not save
the girl now. The Chilcats want to get us out there to cut us down in no
time."
"But I must save her," Natsatt protested. "Do you think I mind the whole
Chilcat tribe when Owindia is in danger? Let me go to her," and he tried
to free himself from the Ranger's grasp.
"No, you don't," was the grim reply. "You're too valuable for me to
lose. You're a little hot-headed now. You shan't go through yon door, so
make up your mind to that."
Natsatt knew that resistance would be useless. He began to see,
too, how vain would be the undertaking. He must wait for some other
opportunity. Dan, seeing the look upon his face loosened his grip and
peered again through the nearest port-hole.
"They've gone!" he exclaimed, "and have taken the lassie with them.
Poor thing! she'll have her own trouble, I'm thinking with that bunch
of wolves. Anyway, their little scheme didn't work, thanks to the girl.
But they'll try something else, never fear, and we must be on our
guard against them. I'm beginning to see now that we have some shrewd
determined customers to deal with."
All through the day Natsatt paced restlessly up and down in the open
between the store and the barricade. He could not sleep, so offered to
stay on guard. He did this with a purpose, as a plan was being evolved
in his mind and he needed the freedom of the night to carry it into
effect. He kept a careful watch upon the open outside the Post, but
no Indian could he observe. Silence brooded over the land. There was
stillness, too, within the building, for all seemed to feel that night
would bring an attack from the enemy. The men spent much of the time
looking after their guns, and ammunition. Of the latter they had not a
large supply. What they had brought with them was simply for hunting
purposes, with never a thought of an engagement with the natives. Dan
divided the powder and balls among the men, advising them at the same
time to reserve their fire as much as possible, and not to shoot at
random. In the past they had been somewhat prodigal of their ammunition,
shooting at whatever they came across, whether bird or animal. Hence,
when all was divided they had but twenty rounds apiece, and they well
knew how little this would serve them in case of a serious or prolonged
siege.
There was trouble, too, from another source. Their supply of provisions,
never at any time large, was becoming much reduced. Since the arrival
of the Chilcats the hunters had not gone to the hills after sheep,
and now it was impossible to leave the Post. A few days at the most
would see them almost on the verge of starvation unless they could add
something to their larder, which under the circumstances did not seem
very probable. It was, therefore, but natural that a deep feeling of
dissatisfaction should prevail among the men. They felt that they had
been badly treated, and blamed Dan for bringing them into the country.
They had come for trading purposes, and not to fight Indians. They
would not have minded a skirmish now and then with the natives if the
advantage had been all on their own side. But to be surrounded by a
strong implacable enemy, and to be cooped up like prisoners, with an
insufficient supply of food was galling in the extreme. They did not
complain to Dan, but aired their grievances among themselves.
Natsatt knew but little of what was taking place, as they did not
admit him into their confidence. They were naturally jealous of the
half-breed, for they noted how Dan talked much to the young man, and
seemed to enjoy having him with him more than the others. But Natsatt
did not worry over what his companions felt or said. It was Owindia who
occupied his mind, and the one purpose of his life was to reach, and
rescue her from the Chilcats. Dan would not give his permission to leave
again, he was quite sure of that. Nothing could be done during the day,
so he must wait until night.
The long afternoon wore slowly away, and it seemed to Natsatt that the
sun was longer than usual disappearing beyond the tree tops. Slowly it
settled and at length darkness stole over the land. Then Natsatt was
free and ready for action. He had been relieved of guard and there was
no work within the Post demanding his attention. His companions were
seated in the building, enjoying their after supper smoke, so he slipped
quietly away, and moved toward the fortification close to the river.
He could have gone out by the door, but that would have betrayed his
scheme, besides imperilling his companions in case the Indians suddenly
arrived and found the door unfastened. During the afternoon he had
thought out his plan of escape. He would mount one of the large wooden
poles which supported the barricade from the inside, and thus scale the
wall. The darkness covered his movement, and as he made very little
noise the men on guard were not aware of what was taking place near at
hand. It did not take him long to spring with the agility of a wild
cat up the long leaning brace, and from there to the top of the pointed
posts above. With some difficulty he threw himself over and holding fast
by his hands lowered himself to his full arms' length. Then dropping
quickly to the ground, he sped away among the trees, and hid for a brief
space among a friendly thicket of fir bushes. He was armed with pistol,
hunting knife, and small axe, so he did not fear an attack of one or
even two Chilcats. But he must keep clear of the main body of the enemy,
for against them he would have no chance at all.
To one less accustomed to the forest the difficulty and peril of the
undertaking would have been almost unbearable. But Natsatt was at home
in the darkest night amid the wilderness. The black objects whether
stumps or stones which stood out with startling weirdness, had no
terror for him. It was necessary for him to be extremely cautious lest
he should stumble unawares upon the enemy. Carefully he groped his way
among the trees, keeping close to the river, as he believed that the
Chilcats would come more in a straight line toward the Post. He was
thankful that he had escaped the vigilance of the spies, who no doubt
were lurking somewhere near. On and on he moved, gliding with swiftness
from tree to tree, and always peering watchfully ahead. When he believed
that he was opposite the Chilcat camp, he turned sharply to the left.
Before him lay the ridge of ragged rocks, on the side of which Owindia
had made her escape from the few Indians who had lured her thither.
Over almost the same place where the fire had been Natsatt moved, little
knowing what had recently taken place there but a short time before.
Nearing at length the camping ground he advanced more cautiously and
partly expected to see the light of a fire darting among the trees. But
in this he was disappointed. Nothing but intense blackness surrounded
him. He began to wonder what had become of the Indians. Had they all
gone to the Post, and were they already surrounding the place ready to
make their night attack? If so what had become of Owindia? Surely they
had not taken her with them!
He paused for a while to listen, but nothing could he hear, except the
beating of his own heart. He was about to move forward when a sound
fell upon his ears which stayed his steps and sent the blood coursing
rapidly through his veins. It was the voice of some one singing, and in
an instant he knew it must be none other than Owindia's. He could not
catch the words though the tune was familiar. Why was she singing? he
wondered, and where could she be? Not by a fire, that was evident, or
else he should have seen the light. Had she been left behind, and was
she singing to keep up her courage? The thought that she was alone gave
him a thrill of joy. He could reach her side, talk to her, and induce
her to come with him back to the Post.
Hesitating no longer he made straight for the place from whence the
sound came. The song still continued, and ere long he was but a short
distance away. He peered through the darkness but could see nothing. The
song suddenly ceased and all was quiet. Natsatt's heart beat fast, and
he called "Owindia, Owindia," in a low voice. Receiving no response he
raised his voice a little louder, but still no answer. Thinking it very
strange that he could get no reply, and feeling sure that Owindia was
but a few steps away, he felt in his pocket, found a match, and struck
it. As the light flared up he looked eagerly around, expecting to see
her standing before him. The trees stood on every hand silent and grim,
though nowhere could he see the maiden. A feeling of awe crept into his
heart as the tiny light died out in his fingers. Had something happened
to Owindia? he wondered, and was this her spirit haunting the forest? He
took a few steps forward, and then pausing, struck another match. This
time his effort was rewarded, for as the light illumined the darkness
for a few seconds his eyes rested upon the form of the maiden standing
upright against a fir-tree about three paces to his right.