FORT YUKON
It did not take Dan and Natsatt long to realise that this place they
had reached in their dire necessity was a Post of the famous Hudson's
Bay Company. There was the flag, known all over western Canada, with
the three letters H. B. C. imprinted upon it. They were much surprised,
for they had no idea that the Company had penetrated into this far-off
region. They knew that they had gone far north in their search after the
furry prize, but they had not heard that they had crossed the mountains.
They looked with wonder upon the well-built houses, clean and orderly.
"So you are surprised, too," laughed the Factor, as he sat watching his
visitors enjoying the first good meal they had eaten in days. "I was
much astonished to see you come down the river, and you were amazed to
find us here. There are no limits to the Great Company's operations
these days. We have been here a little over a year, and it seems as if
we are likely to stay for some time. But come, tell me where you have
come from, and who is the sick squaw. We don't often see such Indian
women in this country. She is certainly a prize. I am anxious to know,
too, about that big Indian you brought with you."
And there in that frontier Post the story was told, of the entrance
into the wilderness, the building of the Post at the mouth of the Segas
River, the attack of the Chilcats, the desertion by the white men, the
death of the chief of the Ranges, his daughter's bravery and sickness,
and the terrible voyage down the river.
To all this the Factor listened without a word of comment. At times he
allowed the pipe he was smoking to go out, and seemed to be lost in
thought. So these men were rival traders he mentally commented, who
will no doubt be a menace to the work of the H. B. Company. Why should
he give such men shelter? How would his action appear when word reached
headquarters? His silence, and the expression upon his face did not
escape the keen eyes of Dan and Natsatt. They well knew how the Great
Company would tolerate no interference, and how all independent traders
were disliked.
"And so you began trading with the Indians on your own account, did
you?" the Factor at length remarked. "It doesn't work. You need some
power behind you."
"Don't misunderstand me," Dan replied. "It was not for the trade that I
came into this country, but to find my only child, my long lost Klota.
The trade was only a pawn in the game."
"And did you find her?" the Factor asked, now much interested.
"No. But I found her child, that poor lassie who is now lying here sick
unto death. You may be offended with me, and consider me a rival trader,
but for God's sake do everything you can for her. She is innocent."
In reply the Factor reached out his hand and caught the Ranger's.
"There is my pledge of good faith," he said. "We don't war against
women. I honour you for what you have done, and I know my Company will
say I am right in looking after you. Stay with us until we see what
happens to the girl. You must rest now while I make arrangements for the
burial of the chief."
Two days passed during which time Natsatt and Dan recovered much of
their former strength. It was a time of suspense, for Owindia's life
still hung in the balance. The Indian women were good nurses and did
all in their power for the sick girl. They understood the nature of
her trouble, and administered medicine made from the roots and bark of
trees. These simple remedies had been used among this people from time
immemorial with satisfactory results.
Natsatt kept almost constant watch by Owindia's side. He could not bear
to be absent from her for any length of time. Dan, too, would often sit
near, and study the drawn face lying upon the pillow. The day of their
arrival at the Fort was the first time he had noticed the slender chain
around the maiden's neck.
"Where did she get that?" he asked Natsatt, who was sitting near.
"It was her mother's," was the reply. "Klitonda gave it to Owindia the
night Klota was killed, and she has worn it ever since. There is a
locket attached to it. She believed it was a charm, and had power to
keep away evil. She showed it to me once."
"What's in the locket?" Dan queried.
"Her mother's picture."
"Let me see it, quick," and Dan rose to his feet as he spoke. "Yes, it's
my darling child," he murmured as he opened the locket which the young
man had handed to him. "I gave it to her, and well do I remember the
day. How happy she was, and she gave me such a loving kiss. Little did
I think then when I should see it again, for it was just before I lost
her."
The second night Natsatt was sitting alone by Owindia's side. Dan was
to relieve him later on. It was near the hour of midnight, and a deep
silence reigned within and without the building. The one small window
in the room was open, and the fresh air was drifting in from forest and
river. To Natsatt there seemed to be no change in Owindia's condition.
For days he had been waiting for her to open her eyes and look upon him.
To-night he felt more depressed than ever. He had waited so long, and
his hope of her recovery was growing less each day. As he sat there he
thought of the happy days they had been together, and of their first
meeting in the lodge in the wilderness. He recalled how sweet was her
voice as he listened to her as he lay by the fire the morning after that
great storm. Was that voice to be silenced for ever? he asked himself.
Would he never hear it again? He remembered how delighted she had been
as he played upon the mouth-organ. The thought brought to his mind the
little instrument which he had not touched for days. Thrusting his
hand within his jacket where he kept it safely concealed, he brought
it forth, and fondled it for a few minutes. Then the old longing came
upon him, and placing it to his lips he began to play a soft, low tune.
It was like magic to his drooping spirits, and affected him as it had
always done in days gone by. Tune after tune he played, unheeding how
the time was passing. In the midst of a sweet air he happened to glance
toward the bed, and immediately the music ceased, and the instrument
dropped from his mouth. There by his side was Owindia, with eyes wide
open looking straight into his face. A great joy leaped into his heart,
as he leaned over and took her wasted hand in his.
"Are you better, darling?" he asked.
A faint smile appeared upon her face, and her eyes roved about the room
with a puzzled expression.
"The Chilcats!" she whispered. "Where are they?"
"Hush, darling," Natsatt replied. "Do not talk now. You are safe. The
Chilcats cannot harm you any more, so go to sleep."
With a deep sigh of relief Owindia closed her eyes, and was soon off
into a calm refreshing slumber. Natsatt watched her for a few minutes
with a great joy and thankfulness in his heart. He wished to tell some
one of the good news. He must speak and let others share his happiness.
He rose to his feet to leave the room to arouse Dan. But as he turned
there stood the Ranger at the door. The sound of the music had awakened
him, and he had come to see what was the matter. He had just reached the
door when Owindia opened her eyes. He had said nothing, but had remained
a silent witness of it all.
There was no sleep for these two delighted men that night. They now
knew that the crisis was passed, and with care Owindia would recover.
They sat and talked in subdued tones about their plans for the future.
Hitherto they had been silent concerning this subject. Now, however, it
was different.
As the days passed Owindia made steady progress. Ere long she was able
to leave her cot, and take short walks out in the fresh open air.
Natsatt was always with her, and supported her feeble steps. She was
much interested in everything she saw. The Post was a wonder in her
eyes, and she asked Natsatt if the houses beyond the mountains of the
rising sun were anything like it. The Indians, too, were different from
any she had ever seen. They were kind to the sick girl, and were always
pleased when she came to visit them in their lodges. They had heard the
story of her terrible experience among the Chilcats, and had discussed
it among themselves. The white men of the Fort were pleased to have the
sweet-faced, gentle maiden among them, and treated her with the greatest
courtesy. Natsatt mentally noted how different was their treatment of
Owindia from the men who had deserted the Post up river. The Factor
became fond of the maiden, and when he found that Natsatt was her lover
he heartily congratulated the young man. Thus their stay at the Fort was
most pleasant, a blessed relief after the terrible experiences through
which they had passed.
But notwithstanding her happiness with Natsatt there was a cloud upon
Owindia's mind. She longed to know about her father. It had been thought
best not to tell her about his death until she was stronger in health.
Several times her question had been evaded. She had learned something
about the defeat of the Ayana, and the attack upon the Post. A fear
pressed upon her heart, that something had happened to her father. She
brooded over it by day, and would lie awake at night for hours wondering
what had become of him.
One day as she and Natsatt were walking along the bank of the river,
talking and gathering wild flowers, they sat down in a quiet little spot
under the shelter of a large fir tree. The water of the Yukon flowed
swiftly past, and fascinated Owindia. She could not keep her eyes away
from that stream, and became unusually silent.
"What is it, little one?" Natsatt asked, noting her pre-occupied manner.
"Are you not feeling well to-day? I hope nothing is the matter, for we
are planning to leave this place next week. Boats of the Company are to
start up the Porcupine River with their loads of furs, and they have
kindly offered to take us with them. You will then be able to see what
the world is like beyond the great mountains. I hope you will be able to
go."
"I am feeling stronger every day," Owindia replied. "I have heard that
we are to go, and I suppose I shall never see this river again. But when
I look upon it I feel sad. It was by its side so far away where I played
as a little child, and my mother used to sit near and watch me. Her
grave is far up there," and she threw out her left arm in an eloquent
gesture. "It was there that the Chilcats tried to steal me away, and my
father saved me. How he loved me, and would do anything for me. Tell me,
oh, tell me, Natsatt, what has happened to him."
For a while Natsatt was silent, and sat gazing steadily before him
out upon the river. How could he tell her? He had been dreading that
question for days, and now it had come and had to be answered. Owindia
noticed his silence, and with the quick intuition of her race divined
the meaning.
"You do not answer," she breathed, while a deep sigh escaped her lips.
"You do not wish to tell me what you know. But I know now, as if you
spoke the words."
"I did not wish to see you grieve," Natsatt returned. "You were so weak
that if I told you it might do you harm. The truth was kept from you
because I love you so. Don't you believe me, darling?"
"Oh, yes, I know you love me. But I am stronger now, and want to hear
everything. If my father is dead I know he died like a true warrior."
"Indeed he did," Natsatt replied. "He fought bravely to the last. You
should have seen the bodies of the dead and wounded Chilcats lying on
the ground. The Coast dogs would have been defeated if the Ayana had
been armed with muskets, but they could do very little against the guns."
"And did you leave my father where he fell?" Owindia asked. "Are you
sure he was dead? Perhaps he was only wounded, and the Chilcats have
taken him away to torture him. The thought is terrible."
"No, we did not. We brought him with us, and he died in the canoe on our
way down the river. His last word was about you."
"My poor father," and Owindia sighed as she spoke. "How hard he
struggled to free his land, and now it is all over. The Chilcats will be
more cruel to the Ayana than ever. Perhaps it is just as well that my
father is gone. His heart was always heavy, but I am sure it would break
if he were alive to see how his people will be treated. They will never
have courage to rise again to free their land."
Her head drooped, her bosom heaved with the intensity of her emotion,
and the tears began to steal slowly down her cheeks. Natsatt placed
his arm around her in an effort to soothe her. Her form shook, and her
sobbing increased. Her lover let her weep, well knowing that the tears
would relieve her surcharged feelings, and that she would feel better
after the storm of grief was over.
"Would you like to see your father's grave?" Natsatt at length asked.
"What! did you bring his body all the way to this place?" and Owindia
lifted her tear-stained eyes to his face.
"Yes. We could not leave him behind. We knew how badly you would feel."
Without another word the maiden placed her hand in his, and rising,
he led her to the Indian burying ground on a hill back of the Post.
There were many graves here, and over each one had been erected quaint
shelters. Some were covered with little cotton tents, while others had
houses made of logs and brush. In the midst of these was one covered
with new earth. It was surrounded by neat palings, made from small fir
saplings, stripped of their bark. At the head of the grave a rude cross
had been erected, on which several words had been carved, telling of the
chief who was lying beneath.
"Who did it?" Owindia whispered, after she had stood for a while looking
down upon the mound.
"We thought you would like it," Natsatt replied. "It was Dan who made
the cross, and cut your father's name upon it. People beyond the
mountains put crosses over the graves of their loved ones. Dan said that
though your father wasn't really a Christian he was a far better man
than many Christians he knew. Some day you will learn what that cross
means, and why it is placed over graves."
For some time they stood by the side of the mound, and then Owindia
moved away and gathered some wild flowers she saw growing near. They
were the pretty wild rose, lupin, blue-bell, and berry blossoms. These
she and Natsatt gathered, and laid them tenderly upon the grave. This
deed of love accomplished, and with a long, lingering glance upon
the spot she would soon never see again, Owindia placed her hand in
Natsatt's and he led her slowly back to the Fort.
In a few days the Company's boats were all ready for their long voyage
upstream. Dan, Natsatt, and Owindia went with them. They thus turned
their backs for ever upon the country which had been the scene of so
much sorrow mingled with joy. And they left behind, too, Klitonda, the
chief of the Ranges, who had fought a brave, stubborn fight, and like
many reformers, had given up his life ere he saw the cause for which he
died triumphant in the end.