November passed, and the first half of December. The shortest days of
the year were approaching, and still the cold, crisp weather, ideal for
logging, continued without a break. Hell Camp continued to hum with its
abnormal activity. A thaw which would spoil the sleighing and ice-roads
for the time being was long over-due. With the coming of the thaw would
come a temporary lull in the work of the camp.
The men prayed for the thaw; Reivers asked that the cold weather
continue. It had continued now longer than he had expected or hoped, and
the output of the camp already was double that of what would have been
successful logging at that season. But Reivers was not satisfied. The
record that he was setting served only to spur his ambition to
desperation.
The longer the cold spell hung on the harder he drove. Each day, as he
looked at the low, grey sky and saw that there were no signs of a
break-up, he turned to and set the pace a little faster than the day
before. The madness of achievement, the passion to use his powers to
accomplish the impossible, the characteristics which had won him the
name of Snow-Burner, were in possession. He was doing the impossible; he
was accomplishing what no other man could do, what all men said was
impossible; and the feat only created a hunger to do more.
The men were past grumbling now, too tired of body and too crushed of
mind to give expression to their feelings. So long as the rush of work
continued they were as harmless as harnessed and driven cattle,
incapable of anything more than keeping step in the mad march that the
Snow-Burner was leading. But all men knew that with the coming of a thaw
and the cessation of work would come an explosion of the murderous
hatred which Reivers' tactics had driven into the hearts of the men. Now
and then a man, driven to a state of desperation which excluded the
possibility of fear, stopped and rebelled. One day a young swamper, a
gangling lad of twenty, raging and weeping, threw himself upon Reivers
like a cat upon a bear. Reivers, with a laugh, thrust him off and kicked
him out of the way. Another time a huge Slav sprang at him with his
razor-edged ax up-raised, and, quailing before Reivers' calm look,
hurled the ax away with a scream and ran blindly away into the trackless
woods. Three days later, starving and with frozen hands and feet, he
came stumbling up to the stockade and fell in a lump.
"Feed him up," ordered Reivers, smiling. "I've got a little use for him
when he's fixed up so he can feel. You see, Treplin," he continued to
Toppy, who had been called to bring the man back to life, "I'm not all
cruelty. When I want to save a man to amuse myself with I'm almost as
much of a humanitarian as you are."
He hurried on his way, but before he was out of hearing he flung back----
"You remember how carefully I had Tilly nurse you, don't you--doctor?"
It was only the guards that Reivers did not make enemies of. He knew
that he had need of their loyalty. At night the "white men" sat on the
edges of their bunks and tried to concoct feasible schemes for securing
possession of the shotguns of the guards.
On the morning of the shortest day of the year Toppy heard a scratching
sound at the window near his bunk and sprang up. It was still pitch
dark, long before any one should be stirring around camp save the cook
and cookees.
"Who's there?" demanded Toppy.
"Me. Want talk um with you," came the low response from without. "You no
come out. No make noise. Hear through window. You can hear um when I
talk huh?"
"Tilly!" gasped Toppy. "What's up?"
"You hear um what I talk?" asked the squaw again.
"Yes, yes; I can hear you. What is it?"
"You like um li'l Miss Pearson, huh?" said Tilly bluntly.
"What?" Toppy's heart was pounding with sudden excitement. "What--what's
up, Tilly? There hasn't anything happened to Miss Pearson, has there?"
"Uh! You like um Miss Pearson? Tell um Tilly straight or Tilly go 'way
and no talk um more with you. You like her? Huh?"
"Yes," said Toppy breathlessly, after a long pause. "Yes, I like her.
What is it?"
"You no like see um Miss Pearson get hurt?"
"No, no; of course not. Who's going to hurt her?"
"Snow-Burner," said Tilly. "Tilly tell you this before she go 'way.
Tilly going 'way now. Tilly going 'way far off to father's tepee.
Snow-Burner tell um me go. Snow-Burner tell um me go last night.
Snow-Burner say he no want Tilly stay in camp longer. Tilly know why
Snow-Burner no want her stay in camp. Snow-Burner through with Tilly.
Snow-Burner now want um Miss Pearson. So."
"Tilly! Hold on!" She had already turned away, but she halted at his
voice and came close to the window. "What is this? Are you going away at
once--because the Snow-Burner says so?"
The squaw nodded, stoically submissive.
"Snow-Burner say 'go'; Tilly go," she said. "Snow-Burner say go before
any one see um me this morning. I go now. Must go; Snow-Burner say so."
"And Miss Pearson?" whispered Toppy frantically. "Did he say anything
about her?"
Tilly nodded heavily.
"Tell um me long 'go. Tell um me before Miss Pearson come. Tell um me he
going marry Miss Pearson for um Christmas present. Christmas Day come
soon now. Snow-Burner no want Tilly here then. Send Tilly 'way."
The breath seemed to leave Toppy's body for an instant. He swayed and
caught at the window-frame.
"Marry her--Christmas Day?" he whispered, horrified.
"Yes. He no tell um Miss Pearson yet. He tell me no tell um her, no tell
um anybody. I tell you. Now go."
Before Toppy had sufficiently recovered his wits to speak again he heard
the crunch of her moccasins on the snow dying away in the darkness as
the cast-off squaw stolidly started on her journey into the woods.
"Tilly!" called Toppy desperately, but there was no answer.
"What's matter?" murmured Campbell, disturbed in his deep slumber, and
falling to sleep again before he received a reply.
Toppy stood for a long time with his face held close to the window
through which he had heard Tilly's startling news. The shock had numbed
him. Although he had been prepared to expect anything of Reivers, he now
realised that this was something more than he had thought possible even
from him. The Snow-Burner--marry Miss Pearson--for a Christmas
present--Christmas Day! He seemed to hear Tilly repeating the words over
and over again. And Reivers had not even so much as told Miss Pearson of
what he intended to do. He had not even told her that he intended to
marry her. So Tilly said, and Tilly knew. What did Reivers intend to do
then? How did he know he was going to marry her? How did he know she
would have him?
Toppy shivered a little as his wits began to work more clearly, and the
full significance of the situation began to grow clear to him. He
understood now. Reivers had good reason for making his plans so
confidently. He had studied the girl until he had seen that his will had
dominated hers; that though she might not love him, might even fear him,
she had not the will-power against him to say nay to his wishes.
He knew that she was helplessly fascinated, that she was his for the
taking. He had been too busy to take her until now; the serious duties
of his position had allowed no time for dalliance. So the girl had been
safe and unmolested--until now! And now Reivers was secretly preparing to
make her his own!
A sudden thought struck Toppy, and he tiptoed to the door and looked
out. Instead of the crisp coldness of recent mornings there was a warm
mugginess in the air; and Toppy, bending down, placed his hand on the
snow and felt that it had begun to soften. The thaw had come.
"I thought so," he said to himself. "The work will break up now, and
he's going to amuse himself. Well, he made a mistake when he told Tilly.
She's been civilised just enough to make her capable of jealousy."
He went back to his bunk and dressed.
"What are you stirring around so early for?" grumbled Campbell. "Dinna
ye get work enough during the day, to be getting up in the dark?"
"The thaw's come," said Toppy, throwing on his cap. "There'll be
something doing besides work now."
He went out into the dark morning, crossed the road and softly tried the
door to the office. He felt much better when he had assured himself that
the door was securely locked on the inside. Then he returned to the shop
and waited for the daylight to appear.