INTO THE UNKNOWN
When the Chilcats broke down the door of the barricade and crowded
through the opening Ranger Dan and Natsatt sprang toward the store, and
stood with their backs against the logs. Hope faded from their hearts
as they saw the natives surging through the door. But they determined
to die fighting hard. Two Chilcat warriors went down before the fire of
their muskets, which caused the others to hesitate for a few seconds.
Then with a yell of rage they rushed the two lone defenders. With their
muskets raised aloft Dan and Natsatt dealt terrible blows upon the heads
of their enemies. Notwithstanding the Ranger's age he was a veritable
giant in battle. His great stature, and the reach of his long arms gave
him an advantage over his short-limbed antagonists. Natsatt, too, was no
mean opponent. Strong, lithe, and tall, he dealt sledge-hammer blows,
levelling several Indians to the ground. The Chilcats wished to take
these sturdy fighters alive. It would mean much to lead them as captives
back over the mountains to the coast. They did not, therefore, use their
muskets, but endeavoured to stun the white men with their axes. This
was fortunate for Dan and Natsatt, otherwise they would have gone down
in an instant.
But fight as bravely as they might it was impossible for two men no
matter how strong and brave to hold out for any length of time against
such overwhelming odds. The Herculean efforts they were making could not
last much longer. Already they felt themselves weakening, and realised
that the fight could not continue much longer. Natsatt had just knocked
over a venturesome brave, and was turning his attention to another who
had rushed up, when a yell was raised from those in the rear. There was
a cry of pain, too, and at once the pressure lessened, and most of the
Chilcats scrambled hurriedly back through the gate. The defenders had
no time to ascertain what was taking place outside, for two furious
natives still remained, and were besetting them with wild rage. They
had been slightly wounded and were burning for revenge. The Ranger by
leaping aside escaped a blow aimed at his head, and in return brought
his shattered musket stock down upon the brave with such a force that
the native sank helpless at his feet. Another blow and the Chilcat
lay still. Natsatt on the other hand had a much harder struggle. His
opponent was more cautious, and watched his opportunity to strike. The
half-breed was also wary, but springing back to escape a blow aimed at
him, slipped and fell sideways upon the earth. With savage delight the
Chilcat leaped forward. His axe was raised aloft to strike. It was in
the act of descending, when the arm which held the weapon was broken
like a pipe stem by the force of Dan's musket. With a yell of pain and
rage the Indian turned upon his new assailant. But he was helpless, and
another blow sent him to join his companion in the Spirit world.
"Are you hurt?" Dan asked, rushing forward, and assisting the young man
to his feet.
"No," was the reply. "But that was a close call. I am covered with
bruises and blood, and so are you, Dan. Anything serious?"
"Guess not. Only a few scratches. But we haven't time to think about
such things now. We must see what's going on outside."
Together they rushed to the gate, and were just in time to behold
Klitonda fall across the body of the dead Chilcat. They saw the two
braves fleeing for the forest, and then looked upon the fallen Indians
lying near the chief.
"Good Lord! What a fight he put up!" Dan exclaimed. "Oh, if we had only
been here a few minutes sooner we might have saved the brave chap. But
let's bring him inside. Maybe there's life in his body yet."
Hurrying to where the chief was lying, they carefully examined him, and
found that life was not altogether extinct, although he was bleeding
profusely from the bullet wound. Lifting him up with considerable
difficulty they carried him behind the fortification.
"Not in there," Natsatt panted, as Dan was heading for the Post.
"Where, then?" was the reply.
"To the canoe by the water-gate. We must get out of this. There's no
time to lose. The devils may be upon us at any instant."
Without questioning these words Dan obeyed, and thus they bore the
wounded chief to the river's edge and laid him carefully in the big
canoe.
"Now for Owindia," Natsatt cried. "I'll look after her while you get
some grub together, if there's any left."
Dan obeyed like a child, and followed the young man back to the store.
The fearful struggle through which he had recently passed was having
its effect upon him now. He was weaker than he had been for years, and
he needed some one upon whom he could depend in the present crisis.
Searching around he gathered into an old sack their scanty supply of
provision, hardly enough to make one good meal for a hungry man. He had
just reached the door when Natsatt came forth from the adjoining room
carrying Owindia in his arms. She had hardly moved from the position she
had been placed but a short time before. Natsatt's heart stirred with
pity and love as he saw her lying there, with her loosened hair tossed
in confusion about her face. Her lips were slightly parted, and she was
breathing heavily. Her cheeks were flushed and hot, telling plainly that
the fever had not yet subsided. As Natsatt stooped to lift her his face
came close to hers, and upon her hot lips he imprinted a loving kiss.
"Darling," he murmured, "I must save you, and you must live. Don't leave
Natsatt. How can he live without you?"
Gathering the maiden up in the blankets which were upon the cot he
hurried out and met Dan. They had taken only a few steps toward the
water-gate when the Ranger gave a cry of alarm.
"The Chilcats are coming!" he roared. "Quick; to the canoe!"
With a mighty bound Natsatt leaped forward, with Dan following close at
his heels. He reached the canoe, placed his precious burden, blankets
and all in the bottom. The craft was at once rushed into the water.
"In, quick!" Dan commanded. "The devils are upon us!"
As the craft left the shore Natsatt seized a paddle and glanced around.
Coming down the long passage-way he saw a score of Indians on the full
run, shouting and yelling in the most terrifying manner.
"Drive her," roared Dan, "and get beyond the range of their guns. I wish
my musket was loaded, I'd give them a parting salute, which one of them
would feel."
Seizing the other paddle he assisted Natsatt, and soon the canoe was
in the middle of the river, bearing downstream. The foremost of the
Chilcats seeing their prey about to escape endeavoured to shoot them
down in the canoe. In this they were foiled by the high walls which
ran several feet out into the water, and by the time the muskets had
been discharged the craft had dropped far enough away to be hidden
from view. Had the Indians been outside the barricade they might have
done considerable damage. But so anxious had they been to seize the
white men, and raid the Post that all who were able had rushed within
the fortification. When they realised their mistake and rushed outside
the canoe was so far away that their shots would have been useless.
They accordingly returned to the Post and ransacked the place, seizing
eagerly upon everything the traders had left behind. They searched among
the dead for the body of the Ayana chief, and were greatly disappointed
when no trace of him could be found. They had hoped to find him only
wounded and thus would have nursed him back to life that they might have
the pleasure of submitting him to untold tortures later on.
In the meantime Dan and Natsatt had driven the canoe farther and farther
away from the Post. They expected immediate pursuit, and often glanced
anxiously back up the river to see if the Chilcats were coming. After a
couple of hours' hard paddling and no sign of the enemy was seen they
began to think that the Indians had given up the idea. There were many
other things to occupy their attention. The chief needed attention, and
Natsatt at length laid down his paddle and moved to Klitonda's side,
while Dan continued paddling and kept the canoe in the middle of the
stream. The chief was lying just where he had been placed. Putting his
ear down close to his face Natsatt found that he was still breathing.
His eyes were closed, and his lips were firmly pressed together. His
long hair was tangled and moist. His head was thrown back, and upon his
face was that defiant expression with which he had met his opponents.
Natsatt laid his right hand upon the chief's shoulder, and gave him a
slight shake.
"Klitonda, Klitonda," he called. "Wake up. You are safe. The Chilcats
cannot trouble you any more. Klitonda, do you hear?"
He waited and watched for a few heart beats, and then the eyes of the
chief slowly opened, and looked around in a vacant manner. His lips
slowly moved, and Natsatt stooped down in an effort to comprehend what
he was trying to say.
"Owindia--Klota--Chilcats--" came feebly from the dying chief.
"Owindia is here," Natsatt replied, "and the Chilcats cannot harm her."
"Owindia--Klota--Chilcats--white man," Klitonda continued, not
heeding the young man's words. Then his face underwent a marvellous
transformation. The look of defiance faded and in its stead came an
expression of triumph. He was driving out the Chilcats; he was watching
them flee before his people back over the mountains toward the coast.
His right arm suddenly shot out, and he partly lifted himself from the
bottom of the canoe. "The Chilcats are beaten!" he cried. "They run
like dogs. The Ayana, the Ayana are free! Klota is avenged--Owindia--"
He stopped short, and his eyes looked straight before him, wild and
triumphant. Then his tense body relaxed, his head drooped, and he sank
back into the bottom of the canoe. Klitonda, the chief of the Ranges was
dead!
With a big lump in his throat Natsatt looked silently upon the face of
the dead warrior. He had striven faithfully for long years to free his
land from the invaders, and was this the end?
"Poor chap, it's certainly too bad," Dan remarked, resting on his
paddle, and viewing the lifeless body. "He was a brave warrior, and
deserved a better fate than that. Oh, if I were only young again I would
bring back a regular army, and wipe those vile skunks out of existence.
They'll treat the Ayana Indians worse than ever now, and they will laugh
at the whites. Good Lord! my blood fairly boils when I think of them.
But, then what's the use of worrying over what can't be helped. We've
got enough ahead of us, I'm thinking, to occupy us for many days to
come. That poor lassie hasn't stirred once since we left the Post. I've
had my eyes upon her face most of the time. What are we going to do with
her?"
Dan's question remained unanswered. They were in an unknown region never
before entered by white men. The Ayana Indians had told them marvellous
tales of the ferocity of the natives who live along the lower banks of
the river. They were monsters, so they said, with hair hanging to their
waists, and living upon the bodies of all Indians they could capture.
Both Dan and Natsatt knew enough of the natives to realise that these
tales were no doubt much exaggerated. With their guns they believed they
could easily frighten them away. What concerned them most was their
ignorance of what lay beyond. The wild Indians they would be willing
to meet if they knew that somewhere ahead they would come to some camp
or Post where Owindia could be cared for. They knew that the Mackenzie
River, east of the mountains, flowed north into the Arctic Ocean. This
river was apparently bearing them in the same direction. Would they be
borne on and on only at last to reach that Great Sea from which they
could hardly expect to return with Owindia alive? She needed immediate
care which they were unable to give. The river was swift, and at times
it was divided by numerous small islands. They were puzzled as to which
channel they should keep, but each time the canoe swept down into the
main current again. No sign of Indians had they seen. Nothing but a
dreary wilderness stretched around them on every side. The trees came
right to the water's edge. The banks were not high here as farther
upstream, but sloped gently to the river's edge. Their last morsel of
food was now gone and they watched anxiously for some animal to appear
upon the bank. They had caught sight of a moose swimming across the
river ahead of them, but it was too far off for them to attempt to shoot
it. Several bears had also been seen along the shore, but they, too, had
escaped.
Thus on and on they sped throughout that long day. The sun beat upon
their heads, and the flies swarmed around them. They were both weary
from the strenuous ordeal through which they had passed, and longed to
lie down and rest. But they did not dare to relinquish their paddling
for any length of time. Toward evening they espied an island ahead,
larger than any they had yet seen. The same thought occupied both
their minds. In fact they had been thinking about it for some time.
Occasionally they glanced toward the body of the chief lying near at
their side.
"Suppose we land on yon island, lad," Dan suggested. "Guess we've got
some work ahead of us. We can't carry this poor chap much farther."
"I've been thinking of the same thing," Natsatt replied. "We couldn't
leave him in a better place."
Running the canoe ashore on the upper point of the island, they landed,
and stretched their cramped legs. It was certainly a beautiful spot.
Birds twittered among the trees, and there was an abundance of wild
grass and northern flowers. It was a fitting place to leave the chief,
who had such a passionate love for his country, and who gave up his life
that it might be freed. Bearing the body of the Indian in their arms
they brought him ashore, and laid him upon the ground at the foot of a
large tree. Searching around they found a few branches, and others they
cut with their axes. These they laid tenderly over the body until it was
completely covered. Not a word was uttered as they performed this task
of love for the fallen man. When the last twig had been deposited Dan
stepped back as if to leave the place. He hesitated, and a mistiness
dimmed his eyes.
"I can't do it, lad. I can't!" he groaned. "He was Klota's husband, and
she must have loved him. How can I leave him here! I can't, I can't!"
"I feel the same way, too," Natsatt replied. "Klitonda is Owindia's
father and what will she say when she learns that he was left here on
this lonely island? No, it cannot be. We must take him with us."
Dan turned to the young man, and their hands clasped. They looked into
each other's eyes, and were not ashamed of the mistiness which gleamed
there. They were partners in distress. They had been tried in the fire
of affliction, and had not been found wanting. Not a word did they speak
as they bore the chief back to the canoe and laid the body in its former
place. Ahead of them lay the great unknown. Whither would that sinuous
river lead them? That was the question each was asking himself. But no
answer was vouchsafed to them, and the vast wilderness kept its secret
well. They were weary and hungry. How longingly they had watched for
some animal to make its appearance near enough that they might obtain
food. But so far they had been disappointed. Were they to starve there
in a land of plenty? Moose, bear, and grouse in the forest, and fish in
the stream, and must they go without? Natsatt suggested that they should
tarry there for a time while he went into the woods in an effort to
obtain some game. But Dan shook his head.
"We can't afford the time, lad," he replied. "We must hurry on with the
lassie, and see what's ahead of us. To-morrow if nothing comes our way
there'll be nothing left but to go after game. So let's get on down
stream."
Embarking, they slipped around the point of the island, and skirted the
left hand shore. They had not gone far when Natsatt, who was seated
somewhat astern, ceased paddling, laid his hand upon Dan's shoulder, and
pointed ahead to the right. Then he lifted his musket and brought it to
bear upon a fine moose standing drinking at the edge of the water. The
animal had not seen the canoe, and when the report rang out it gave a
tremendous leap into the air, staggered for an instant, and bounded off
into the forest.
"We've lost it!" Natsatt groaned. "What's the matter with me, anyway? I
was sure of that shot."
"Don't feel too badly," Dan soothed. "You hit it, and it may be lying
among the trees. Let's go and see."
Running the canoe ashore where the moose had been seen, the young man
sprang out and disappeared into the forest. Soon a glad shout reached
Dan's ears, and following the sound he ere long gained the spot where
Natsatt was standing gloating over the carcass of a large bull moose.
It did not take them long to choose the choicest portion of meat from
the animal. Then hurrying back they lighted a fire upon the shore, and
prepared to cook their supper. How good that meat tasted to those two
half-starved men. It was the first fresh meat they had eaten for days.
The meal ended, their strength returned, and their courage as well. They
could face the unknown now with a better heart.
"I feel like a new man!" Dan ejaculated, as he stood up and
stretched himself. "A man can go without sleep for days, but only a
boa-constrictor can go for months without grub, and thank heaven I'm not
a serpent. We must take as much of that moose with us as the canoe can
carry, for the Lord only knows when we'll run across another."
This was soon accomplished, and soon they were once more speeding on
their way down that great northern waterway.