Next morning, Old Paul, assisted by Nell's dark companion, and the
half-breed Xavier, was hitching up in the yard of Forbie's, when Nick
Grylls appeared from the house, and walked heavily up and down at some
distance moodily chewing a cigar. Big Nick was wondering dully what
in hell was the matter with him. He had tossed in his bunk the night
through; and now, at the beginning of the day, when a man should be at
his heartiest, he found himself without appetite for his breakfast, and
in a grinding temper, without any object to vent it on. In his little
eyes, bloodshot with the lack of sleep, and unwonted emotion, there was
an almost childish expression of bewilderment.
A deep sense of personal injury lay at the root of his discomfort. Nick
was accustomed to think of himself as a whale of a fine fellow, as they
say in the West; he heard every day that he was the smartest man up
North; and, of course, he believed it. He regarded himself as a prince
of generosity; for was not his liberality to the half-breed women a
reproach among cannier white men? He was fond of children, too; and one
of his amusements was to distribute handfuls of candy over the counter
of his store. And candy ("French creams," God save the mark!) is worth
seventy-five cents a pound on Lake Miwasa. When any poor fellow froze
to death, or went "looney" in the great solitudes, it was Nick Grylls
who dug deepest in his pocket for the relief of the unfortunate family.
This, then, was the meat of his amazed grievance; that he, the great
man, the patron, should, here in his own country, be coolly ignored
by a mere boy and girl.
There was good in Nick Grylls; and Garth travelling alone would have got
along very well with him, and worked him for copy; but having Natalie
to look after, he instinctively put himself on his guard against the
triumphant Silenus. Grylls, with an enormous capacity for pleasure, had
carelessly taken his fill. He had to content himself with the coarse
plants of the North; and up to now he had desired no other. But he had
arrived at the age when, the passions beginning to cool, the grossest
man conceives of fastidiousness; and at this crisis Fate had thrust a
perfect blossom before him. Never so close to a woman of Natalie's world
before, he had been free to look at her throughout an entire day; and
she had actually spoken to him once. He did not realize what was the
matter with him yet; but presently, when Natalie came out of the house,
he would know.
Garth strolled out from breakfast; and filled his pipe while he waited
for Natalie to repack her valise within. Nick's chaotic passions leaped
to meet the aspect of the cool young man, and fastened on him. But there
was no relief here; his hearty and irresistible career over prostrate
necks was suddenly arrested in the light of Garth's cool glance. In his
heart Nick suspected he was despised, and the fact emasculated his rage.
He hung his head, and looked elsewhere.
When the horses were hitched, Xavier went into the bunkhouse for his
master's bedding, old Paul pottered around the harness, while Albert,
Nell's companion, strolled back to join Grylls.
"What do you make of this young couple?" asked Nick, assuming an
indifferent air.
"I dunno," Albert returned lethargically.
"There wasn't anything about a girl in the newspaper," pursued Nick;
"and young reporters don't generally have coin enough to travel with
a wife."
"They ain't married," said Albert.
"What!" exclaimed Nick eagerly.
"Nell says she heard her call him Mr. Pevensey before the stage started;
and he called her Miss What's-this."
Nick's little eyes glittered. "Then what in hell are they doing up here
together?" he muttered.
"Search me!" said Albert indifferently. "Nell says she can't make it
out."
"She seems to have taken a kind of shine to Nell," suggested Nick
carefully. "Women are sly as links. Pass a quiet word to Nell to draw
her out."
"She's tried," said Albert. "Nice as you please but mum. Why don't you
pump _him_?" he suggested, indicating Garth.
"Because he's a damned, self-sufficient dude!" Nick burst out with a
string of curses. "One of these porridge-mouthed Easterners that run up
their eyebrows with a 'my word!' at any free speech or liberality in a
man! The first time he finds himself in man's country he patronizes us!
Going to write us up! My God! My stomach turns over every time I look
at him!"
"Well, he better not get _you_ down on him," said Albert propitiatingly.
Natalie came sailing out of the farmhouse as fresh and smiling as
the morning itself. Garth hastened to meet her. A dark flush rose in
Grylls's cheeks, and he gritted his teeth, until the muscles stood
out in lumps on either side his jaw. He felt a desire to possess this
slender, swimming figure mounting in his brain to the pitch of madness.
As she passed him Natalie nodded not unkindly, and the big man's eyes
followed her in a sort of dog's agony.
Nell followed her out of the house; and Garth handed them both into the
stage. He did not get in himself, but stood on the ground below Natalie,
talking up to her. One of the horses had refused to drink at the trough,
and old Paul, wishing to give him another chance, sent Xavier for a pail
of water.
This Xavier deserves a word. The young breeds run to extremes of good
looks or ill; and in his case it was the latter. In downright English he
was hideous. A shock of intractable, lank hair hung over what he had of
a forehead; and underneath rolled a pair of whitey-blue eyes, with a
villainous cast in one of them. Some accident had carried Nature's work
even further, for one swarthy cheek was divided from temple to chin by a
dirty white scar. He wore a pair of black-and-white checked trousers,
which, once Nick's, hung strangely on his meagre frame. He was absurdly
proud of this garment. His outer wear was completed by a black cotton
shirt, and the inevitable stiff-brimmed hat, without which no brown
youth feels himself a man. Xavier's face wore an expression of blankness
verging on idiocy; but he was by no means deficient in cunning. His full
name was St. Francois Xavier Zero.
Returning from the pump with the pail of water, as he passed Nick,
the big man threw him an idle word or two in Cree. Xavier grinned
comprehendingly; and Nick and Albert followed him a little way. Xavier
came up close behind Garth; and in passing him, made believe to stumble.
Some of the water splashed over Garth's legs. Garth swung around, and
took in the situation at a glance; Grylls and Albert were grinning in
the background. There was a crack as his fist met the half-breed's jaw;
and Xavier rolled in the dust. In falling the pail capsized, emptying
its contents on the cherished trousers.
Nick's guffaw was quickly changed for a scowl; Garth saw that an explosion
was imminent; and that quick thought was necessary. He knew he must at all
cost to his pride avoid trouble until he got Natalie off his hands. He
walked over to Nick; the big fellow clenched his fists as he approached.
"Hope I haven't hurt the beggar," said Garth blandly. "Perhaps he didn't
mean to spill the water; but you have to deal quickly with a breed.
That's your way, I'm told."
Nick was completely disconcerted by this unexpected line of action. His
hands dropped; and he muttered something which might pass for agreement.
Garth coolly returned to Natalie.
The breed picked himself up, and went crouching to his master with a
voluble, whining complaint in his own tongue. Nick lifted his hand;
and with a vicious, backhanded stroke sent Xavier again reeling across
the yard. It was the blow which was meant for Garth. Passion had set
Nick dancing to a strange tune. Albert, seeing the look in his eye,
instinctively edged out of reach.
Old Nell looked at these things with a resigned air that spoke volumes
for her daily life. Natalie kept perfectly quiet; but a bright spot
burned in either cheek, and she turned a pair of shining eyes on Garth
when he came back to her. His difficulties were by no means over. Old
Paul, feeling that it might be well to forego the pail of water, gave
the word to start. Grylls climbed in by the rear step, and sat next to
Nell with a dogged air. This brought him opposite Garth, and very near
Natalie. Albert and the half-breed following him, they started. Xavier,
covered with dirt, snivelling, and nursing a split lip, was as ugly as
a gargoyle.
Garth saw a way out in the vacant place beside Paul. "The front seat
would be more comfortable for you; it's wider," he said to Natalie, loud
enough for all to hear. "Paul," he called, "have you room beside you for
the young lady? She wants to hear some more stories."
Paul, delighted, immediately pulled up, and held out a hand. Natalie
climbed over the mail-bags and took her place beside him. In crossing,
she gave Garth's hand a grateful squeeze; and he returned to his place
with a swelling heart, ready for Nick Grylls and any like him. But he
would not allow himself to depart from the course he had laid out. In
the past he had been compelled to conciliate, to flatter, to mould such
men as Grylls for the advantage of the _Leader_; and he could certainly
do it once more for the sake of Natalie. Nick faced him with a venomous
eye, but was unable to make an opening for more trouble.
Old Paul, whenever they came to a hill and he could allow his four to
walk, turned around; and half to Natalie, half to Garth, delivered himself
of one of his characteristic stories. Neither was Nick impatient with his
monologues to-day; for when Paul turned Natalie half turned also; and then
Nick could watch her face.
Garth had asked the old man about the half-breed rebellion.
"Sure, I was through it all," he began. "I was buildin' boats in Prince
George; and scoutin'. Upwards of three months we hadn't no news from
outside and the settlement was in a continuous state of scare. It was
supposed the Crees had been joined by the Montana Indians; and all said
we was cut off on the south. Women, children and cattle was crowded
together in the stockade; but I didn't bring my family in. My old woman
weren't afraid; and somepin' told me it was just one of these here
panics like.
"Well, one day up came word to the commandant to send a force down the
river to Fort Pitt, as they called it, to jine with General Middleton.
Then it was Smiley here, and Smiley there, and they couldn't do nothin'
without Smiley. I started down the river at last with two work boats
carryin' fifty men under Major Lewis and Cap'n Caswell. It was a Saturday
night, I mind. Lewis was one of these stuck-up, know-it-all johnnies, not
long breeched. But Caswell was an old Crimea veteran; his face had been
spiled by a powder explosion; but he certainly was a sporter! Me and him
got along fine. My! My! what a randy old feller he was! The men used to
sit around him with their mouths open waitin' to laugh. Grimy Caswell
they called him, along of his speckled face--great big man!
"We travelled for three days and three nights without stoppin'; and
would you believe it, that damn fool Lewis--'scuse me, Miss--made us
light a lantern at night! A mark for all the reds in the country! I was
steerin' the first boat; and signallin' the channel to Dave Sinclair in
the boat behind, with my hand; this way and so. But the second day Dave
ran her aground. Young Lewis wouldn't allow that we knew how to lift a
boat off a shoal up North. I let him break all the ropes tryin' to drag
her off; then I showed him. Meanwhile, all this time, Grimy Caswell was
dressin' himself up like a redskin in my boat; and smearin' his face
with red earth. When it got dusk-like, he hid in the bushes; and by and
by Lewis came along the shore. All of a sudden, Grimy in his war-paint
popped out in front of him, let out a hell of a screech, and sent a shot
over his head. Say, that young man near died right there. He turned the
colour of a lead bullet; and made some quick tracks to the rear boat.
Grimy sneaked back to ours and washed and dressed; and all night long he
plagued Lewis to light the lantern; but he wouldn't; and the men near
died holdin' theirselves in. Oh! Grimy Caswell was a humorous feller,
he was!
"We landed at Fort Pitt on the fourth day; and at the same time the
steamboats come up from Battle Run with the whole army. They landed 'em
all; and say, they had a brass band; and General Middleton rode a white
horse. Never see such a grand sight in all my born days; they must have
been all of seven hundred and fifty men!"
At the foot of another long hill Natalie expressed a wish to walk up;
and Garth helped her down. They set off briskly, ahead of the horses;
and for the first time found themselves free to talk to each other.
"How good you have been to me!" she murmured.
"Don't think of thanking me," said Garth, almost roughly.
"If I had known how literally you would have to take care of me, I would
not have been so quick to ask you."
"It was nothing, really."
"Nothing, you mean to what is before us?" she asked quickly.
"I look for nothing worse," he said.
"Perhaps my appearance is too conspicuous," she suggested with a
humility new to her.
"A little, perhaps," Garth admitted.
"What shall I do?" she said. "I have nothing else."
"At the Landing I will dress you in a rough sweater, and a felt hat
strapped under your chin," he said with a smile.
Natalie was aggrieved. "I like to look nice," she protested.
"You would--even then," said poor Garth.
She changed the subject. "What a gross beast that big man is!" she said
strongly.
"Poor devil!" said Garth unconsciously. He understood from his own
feelings a little of what Nick was going through.
Natalie turned a surprised face on him. "Are you sorry for him?" she
demanded.
"A little."
"Why?"
"Well--I think perhaps he never saw any one like you before," he said
quietly.
"But he _hates_ you!"
"Naturally!"
"Why?" she demanded again--and was immediately sorry she had spoken.
Garth looked away. "He thinks I am--I am more than I am," he said
oracularly.
She affected not to hear this. "What shall we do about him?" she asked.
"He won't trouble us after the Landing," said Garth. "He is bound down
the river to Lake Miwasa, while we go up to Caribou Lake."
"It's a precious good thing for me I didn't start off alone," she said
feelingly.
"I'm glad if I've won your confidence a little," said Garth hanging his
head.
This meant: "Aren't you going to tell me about yourself?" Natalie's
mystery had been a thorn in his flesh all the way along the road. He
was ashamed to speak of it, for seeming to imply a doubt of her; but
he couldn't help approaching it in this roundabout way.
Natalie understood. "I'll tell you now, gladly," she said at once. "But
not here; there isn't time. We have to get in directly."
This was precisely what Garth desired her to say. He longed for her to
want to tell him; but for the story itself, he dreaded it, and was quite
willing to have the telling deferred.
Later in the day they reached Nell's house, quite a fine edifice built
with lumber instead of the usual logs. Natalie, true to her word,
allowed herself to be shown through; and did not stint her admiration
of Nell's treasures. When they drove on, she looked back with a genuine
feeling for the old girl, who was so anxious to please. They left her
standing in the doorway in her finery, with the sullen, black-browed
bravo slouching beside her.
The way became very much rougher; and Garth was glad of Natalie's having
greater comfort on the front seat. About five o'clock they climbed their
last hill. At the top Old Paul, pulling up his horses, swept his whip
with an eloquent gesture over the magnificent prospect lying below.
"All the water this side goes to the Arctic," he said.
Looking over a wealth of greenery, away below them they saw the mighty
Miwasa River coming eastward from the mountains, make its southernmost
sweep, and shape a course straight away for the North. The Miwasa river!
There was magic in the name; they gazed down at it with a feeling akin
to awe. Off to the left lay the roofs of the Landing, farthest outpost
of civilization.
Presently they were rattling down the steep village street at a great
pace, traces hanging slack; past the factor's house, the "Company's"
store, the blacksmith shop and the "French outfit"; with a dash and
a clatter that brought every inhabitant running to the hotel. Most of
them were already there; for the arrival of the mail is the event of the
week. Old Smiley swept up to the gallery at Trudeau's with a flourish
worthy of coaching's palmiest days. The passengers alighted; and again
the girl with the green wings in her hat became the cynosure of every
eye. Garth delivered her into the comfortable arms of Mrs. Trudeau, who
took her upstairs. Turning back into the general room, he asked the
first man he met where the Bishop lived.
"Up the street and to the left a piece," was the reply. "But say--"
"Well?" said Garth.
"The Bishop and his party started up the river two days ago."
Garth, turning, saw Nick Grylls listening with an evil grin.
V