"Come along," he said. "I told Mr Gunson that I would fetch you."
We followed him out, and I wanted to thank him; but I could not then,
and he seemed to know it, for he kept on chatting to us as we went along
one side of the enclosed square, pointing out how clear the sky was, and
how full of promise for the next day. Then, as we reached the long low
building where we had had our meal, he threw open the door, and stood
back for us to enter.
"Good-night, Mayne," he said.
"Good-night, sir," I replied, rather huskily, and I clung to his hand a
little as he held it out.
"Good-night, Dean," he continued, and turning sharply off he sauntered
away back towards his quarters.
"Might ha' shook hands with me too," said Esau, sullenly. "Didn't
offend him too much, did I?"
"No, no, don't say any more about it," I whispered.
Then we entered, to find Gunson seated on a rough stool by the fire
smoking his pipe, or pretending to, for I saw no smoke, and the red glow
from the embers lit up his face strangely.
"Ah, boys," he said, starting up from his musings; "there you are.
Well, you have dropped into snug quarters. Bed-time, isn't it?"
"I suppose so," I said sadly. "Hallo! Not cheery that!"
"Are you still thinking of going, Mr Gunson?" I said.
"Yes; at sunrise to-morrow morning, so if you want to see me off, you
must take down your shutters early."
"I am sorry."
"I am glad," he cried--"that you are sorry. Been a pleasant trip up, my
lad, and I dare say we shall meet again some day. We will, if I can
manage it."
"I say, where's old Quong?" said Esau, suddenly. "Asleep this hour, in
the corner there."
"You want Quong--flesh tea--make blead--now?"
"No, no; go to sleep," said Gunson, laughing. "Allee light. I get up
and makee fi' keep bun; no let fi' go out."
He coiled up again under his blanket, and we sat some little time in
silence before Gunson rose.
"Good-night, boys," he said; and he went to the rough sleeping-place he
had chosen.
"S'pose we had better go too," said Esau, after we had sat looking at
the fire a few minutes in silence.
"I'm ready," I said quickly, and we went to our places, where I lay
listening to the hard breathing of my companions, for sleep would not
come. All was so new and strange. The fire had sunk down into a faint
glow which brightened now and then as a light breeze swept by the house,
and then sank down again, making the fireplace look ruddy, while all the
rest of the place was intensely dark. Then all grew blacker still, and
I was listening to Mr John Dempster's hopeful words about meeting me at
his brother-in-law's home, and--
I was staring hard at the fire again, awake and fully aware that I had
been fast asleep, and that something was wrong. The door was wide open.
I was sure of it, for I could see the square opening lit up with
brilliant stars, and to add to my certainty, the embers of the wood
fire, which had sunk lower and lower, were glowing again, as the soft
air from the door swept over them, in a curious phosphorescent way.
I listened, and heard that the others were sleeping heavily, and as I
gazed at the door I saw some of the stars blotted out by something
moving, while almost at the same instant a faint sound made me glance
toward the fire, where for a moment I saw against the faint glow the
shape of some animal. A panting sound; it was a wolf I was sure, and I
lay there paralysed with dread, as I heard the soft pit-pat of the
animal's feet, and directly after a movement that did not seem to be
that of an animal.
I was right in that; for the fire glowed up, and I could see that it was
a man standing close by now, whose dress indicated that he must be an
Indian, for I just made out the edge of a hunting shirt, and I saw that
he wore leggings.
What ought I to do? I thought if I shouted to spread the alarm it might
mean a sudden quick attack, perhaps death at once for me, while the
others would be unable to defend themselves in the dark. The cold
perspiration oozed from my face, and I felt a sensation as if something
was moving the roots of my hair.
At last when the agony grew so intense that I felt I must shout for
help, the soft pit-pat of the animal's feet passed by me again, and was
followed by the sound of the man moving his moccasined feet, hardly
heard upon the boarded floor, and the stars were completely blotted out
by the closing door.
I started again, for there was a quick rustling sound now from my left,
and something passed me and made for the fire. Then came relief, for
there was no doubt this time--it was Quong softly laying fresh pieces of
wood on the embers to keep the fire going till morning.
I lay back thankfully, determined to speak to him as he came back, and
ask him if he had heard a noise. But I did not; he was so long in
coming; and when I did speak it was to Gunson, who was getting up, and
the grey light of morning was now filling the room, battling with the
glowing fire. For I had been asleep after all, and I began to ask
myself whether I had dreamed about the Indian and the wolf.