Miwasa Landing is the jumping-off place of civilization; here, at
Trudeau's, is the last billiard table, and the last piano; here, the
wayfarer sleeps for the last time on springs, and eats his last "square"
ere the wilderness swallows him. It is at once the rendezvous, the place
of good-byes, and the gossip-exchange of the North; here, the incomer
first apprehends the intimate, village spirit of that vast land, where a
man's doings are registered with more particularity than in the smallest
hamlet outside. For where there are not, in half a million square miles,
enough white men to fill a room, or as many white women as a man has
fingers, each individual fills a large space in the picture. Away up in
Fort Somervell, three months' journey from Prince George, they speak of
"town" as if it were five miles off.
And Trudeau's on the river bank, quite imposing with its three stories
and its gingerbread gallery, is the nucleus of it all. Trudeau's is a
reminder of the jolly bustling inns of a century ago. The traders, the
policemen, the mail-carriers, the rivermen and the freighters come and
go; each sits for a day or two in the row of chairs tipped back against
the wall--for no one is ever in a hurry in the North--gives his news,
if he be on the way "out"; takes it if he be coming "in"; and appoints
to meet his friends there next year. The commonest type of all is the
genial dilettante, the man who traps a little, prospects a little, grows
a few potatoes, and loafs a great deal. Trudeau's is also the eddy which
sooner or later sucks in the derelicts of the country, sons or brothers
of somebody, incredibly unshaven and down at heel; capitalists of
bluster and labourers with the tongue.
Such was the crowd that witnessed Natalie's arrival open-mouthed; and
such the individuals that fastened themselves in turn on Garth, with
the determination of extracting a full explanation of the phenomenon.
Garth succeeded in avoiding at the same time giving offense and giving
information. But he could not prevent a fine podful of rumours from
bursting at the Landing, and scattering seeds broadcast over the North.
He found a letter awaiting him from the Bishop.
"I find," he wrote, "that Captain Jack Dexter's steamboat
will be going up the river to the Warehouse in the middle
of the week; and as my preparations are completed a day
or two earlier than I expected, I am starting on ahead
with my outfit. You will probably overtake us in the big
river, as we have to track all the way; but should you be
delayed, I will go on up the rapids; and will see that a
wagon is waiting for you at the Warehouse, to bring you
to me at Pierre Toma's house on Musquasepi. This will be
more comfortable for you, as all this first part of the
journey is tedious up-stream work."
The good man little suspected when he wrote it what a quandary his kindly
note would throw Garth into.
After supper, he and Natalie, sitting in the rigid little parlour
upstairs, talked it over; while Mademoiselle Trudeau, aged fifteen, sought
to entertain them by rendering effete popular songs on the famous piano.
From below came the rise and fall of deep-voiced talk, and the incessant
click of billiard balls.
Natalie made a picture of adorable perplexity to Garth's eyes as she said:
"What would you advise me to do?"
"How can I advise you?" he said, looking away; "I do not know all the
circumstances."
"But I can't tell you now," she said appealingly. "Don't you see, my
reasons for going must not be allowed to influence our decision as to
whether I _can_ go?"
Garth did not exactly see this; but unwilling to beg for her confidence,
he remained silent.
"My trouble is," she continued presently, "that if we follow the Bishop
and overtake him, he'll virtually be obliged to take me; and I do not
wish to force myself on him."
"As to that," Garth said, "one has to give and take in the North. It's not
like it is outside. Besides, we pay our own score you know; and carry our
own grub. I'll answer for the Bishop."
"Then I see no reason why I should not go," she said.
The journey with her stretched itself rosily before Garth's mind's eye;
but his instinct to take care of her made him oppose it. "There is me,"
he said diffidently; "travelling alone with me, I mean. Even in the
North a girl is obliged to consider what people will say."
Natalie shook her shoulders impatiently. "There's not the slightest
use urging reasons of propriety," she said resolutely. "As long as
my conscience is clear, I can't afford to consider it. This is too
important. It affects my whole life," she added in a deeper voice.
"There's something up there I have to find out!"
Something in this made Garth's hopes lift up a little; for she did not
speak as one whose heart was in thrall.
Mademoiselle Trudeau concluded her piece with an ear-tearing discord;
and turned, self-consciously inviting applause.
"How well you play, dear!" said Natalie, the wheedler. "Isn't it nice
to have music away up here! Try something else."
The performer, adoring Natalie, promptly turned her pig-tails to them
again, and attacked "Two Little Girls in Blue." Garth groaned.
"Discourages listeners," remarked Natalie, indicating the curtained
doorway.
"So," she continued presently, "if you haven't any better reasons to
urge against it, we'll consider the matter settled."
"Couldn't I go for you?" asked Garth.
She resolutely shook her head. "I have promised," she said.
"It was a promise given in ignorance of the conditions," Garth persisted
with rough tenderness. "This wild country is no place for you. I could
not bear to see you wet and hungry and cold and tired, and all that is
before us--besides dangers we may not suspect."
Natalie faced him with shining eyes. "Clumsy man!" she cried--but there
was tenderness in her scorn too. "Do you think this is persuading me not
to go? I'm not a doll; I won't spoil with a little rough handling! If you
only knew how I longed to experience the real; to work for my living, to
get under the surface of things!"
Garth, amazed and admiring of her bold spirit, was silenced.
As they were parting for the night, she said: "As soon as the steamboat
casts off, and it's too late to turn back, I will tell you what I have
to do up there."
* * * * *
Next morning Garth sought an interview with Captain Jack Dexter of the
_Aurora Borealis_. At once proprietor, skipper and business manager of
his boat, and serenely independent of competition, he was a type new
to Garth. His single concession to sea-faring attire was a yachting cap
several sizes too small, perched on his spreading brown curls. His face
was red; his eyes anxious, blue and bulging. He had the unwholesome,
frenetic aspect of the patent medicine enthusiast, not uncommon in the
North. Garth interrupted him in a grave discussion of the relative
merits of "Pain Killer" and "Golden Discovery."
"I may take a run up to the Warehouse," he said guardedly, in answer to
the question. "I'll let you know to-morrow."
"Aren't you sure of going?" asked Garth in some dismay.
"Never sure of nothing in this world," said Captain Jack, with a glance
around the circle, sure of applause.
Garth bit his lip. "Haven't you freight to go up?" he asked quietly.
"Plenty of freight offered me," said the skipper coolly. "Plenty to go
down-stream too."
"But it's highly important I should know what you're going to do," said
Garth with increasing heat.
Captain Jack cocked a wary eye at the sky, and spat. "No water in the
river," he said at length.
"Then you're _not_ going," said Garth.
"Didn't say so," said Captain Jack. "May rain shortly, and bring her up
an inch or so."
The sky was clear and speckless as an azure bowl. "Do you mean I've got
to wait around here indefinitely on the bare chance of its raining?"
demanded Garth.
"Told the Bishop I'd bring you up," said Captain Jack in his detached
way. "Reckon I can't break my word to the Church."
"Well, why didn't you say so in the beginning?" said Garth, wondering if
this was a joke. "When will you be starting?"
"Oh, to-morrow, maybe," said the skipper without suspecting the least
humour in the situation; "or Thursday--or Friday; whenever I can get the
boys together. You just stay around and I'll let you know."
With this Garth was forced to be content.
Next there was the business of laying in supplies from the "Company."
Garth tasted to the full the sweets of partnership, as he and Natalie
gauged each other's appetite, and made their calculations. Paul Smiley
accompanied them in the capacity of expert adviser; but the old man was
inclined to be scandalized at the extravagant luxuries Garth insisted on
adding to the five great staples of Northern travel; viz., bacon, flour,
baking-powder, tea and sugar. Garth must have besides, canned vegetables
and milk for Natalie; also cocoa, jam and fresh butter. The whole was
contained in four goodly boxes.
"Mercy!" exclaimed Natalie. "Fancy our two little selves getting outside
all that! Picture us waddling back to civilization."
Garth also made the necessary rougher additions to her wardrobe; and
bought her a rifle of small calibre.
In the afternoon, with strict injunctions to Natalie to remain indoors
during his absence, he set off to a half-breed cabin a mile up the
river, to obtain a supply of moccasins for both. Mademoiselle Trudeau
undertook to bear Natalie company at home.
He had not been gone long before the Convent-bred child with her precise
phrases began to get on the nerves of the irrepressible Natalie. At the
same time the exquisite clarity of the Northern summer air, the delicate
mantling blue overhead, and the liquid sunshine on the foliage all began
to tempt her sorely. Across the road a field of squirrel-tail, dimpling
silkily in the breeze, stretched to the river bank, and she saw she
could cross it without passing any house. Natalie was never the one to
resist such a lure; she sent the child away on an imaginary errand, and
slipping out by the side door, crossed the field, and gained the bank
without, as she fondly hoped, having been seen by the row of gossipers
with their chairs tipped back against the front of the building.
Rejoicing in her freedom, she followed the path Garth had taken along
the edge of the bank, thinking how pleasant it would be to surprise him
coming home, and planning how she would cajole him into forgiving her
disobedience. The thought of Garth's being angry with her caused a
strange, vague little thrill, half dismay, half pleasure.
Natalie had not escaped the hotel unobserved; as she went leisurely
waving her banners along the river path, a gross, burly figure with
downcast head followed, pausing when she paused, and taking advantage
of the taller bushes for cover. It was not characteristic of Natalie
to look behind her; she continued her zigzag course all unconscious;
sweeping her skirts through the grass, and ever and anon whistling
snatches like a bird. Presently finding herself among wild raspberry
bushes laden with fruit, she gave herself up to delicate feasting;
searching among the leaves bright-eyed, like a bird, and popping the
berries into her mouth--the raspberries paled beside the bloomy lips
that parted to receive them. At last she plumped down on a stone beside
the path; and gazing up the unknown river of her journey, thought her
birdlike thoughts.
Nick Grylls appeared around the bushes. For the fraction of a second
she was utterly dismayed; then sharply calling in her flying forces, she
nodded politely, as one nods to a passer-by; and looked elsewhere.
But the man had no intention of taking the hint. He had the grace to
pull off his hat--the first time he had bared his head to a woman in
many a long day--and he paused, awkwardly searching in his mind for the
ingratiating thing to say. What he finally blurted out was not at all
what he intended.
"You think I'm a coarse, rude fellow, Miss," he said with the air of a
whipped schoolboy.
Natalie's thoughts beat their wings desperately against her head. Here,
indeed, was a situation to try the pluck of a highly civilized young
lady. What should she do? What should she say? What tone should she
take? In the end she was quite honest.
"You have never given me any reason to think otherwise," she said. Her
secret agitation peeped out in the added briskness of her tones.
Grylls incessantly turned his hat brim in his fat freckled hands. "I am
not as bad as you think," he said dully. "Somehow I seem to have a worse
look when I am by you."
Natalie let it go at that.
"I ain't had early advantages," he continued. "I never learned how to
dress spruce; and talk good grammar. But a man may have good metal in
him for all that."
"Certainly!" said Natalie crisply.
"There ain't no reason why we shouldn't be friends," he said humbly.
"None at all," she returned. "Neither do I see any reason why we should
be."
"But say, I can help you up here," he said eagerly. "I know the ropes. I
have the trick of mastering the breeds. I have money in the country. I
can do what I like."
"You wouldn't want me to simulate friendship for the purpose of using
you?" said Natalie.
"Yes, I would," he sullenly returned. "I'd take your good will on any
terms."
The difficulties of her position, it seemed to her, were increasing at
a frightful ratio. The fact that Garth might at any moment come face to
face with Grylls only added to her fears. But she gave Grylls no sign
of the weakness within.
"I can't make believe to be friendly," she said briefly. "I give it
gladly when I can."
"Show me what to do to be friends with you," he pleaded, not without
eloquence. "I have the time and the money and the determination to do
it--anything!"
But it was impossible Natalie should feel the slightest pity for a
creature of so gross an aspect. "I cannot show you," she said coolly.
"You must teach yourself."
Grylls began to be encouraged by his own rising passion. "All I ask is
a fair show," he said in a more assured voice. "Give me a chance as well
as this squib of a reporter you picked up in Prince George. What can
_he_ do for you? Let me take you to the Bishop. I can carry his whole
party through the country at a rate he never thought of!"
Downright anger now came to Natalie's aid. "My arrangements are made,"
she said curtly. "I do not care to change them."
Grylls's eyes quailed again under the direct look of hers; and a deeper
red crept under his skin. His tone changed. "If I can't help, I can
hinder," he muttered.
"Threats will not help you," said Natalie, instantly and clearly.
"You don't know what you're up against," he continued, still muttering,
"I tell you I carry the breeds in my pocket. No white man knows them but
me. I can hold you up wherever I please. I've only to give the word and
you'll starve on the trail--you and your reporter!"
Natalie arose. For the moment she was too angry to speak. The man looked
on her flashing beauty; and in the madness of his desire to possess it
he forgot his awe of her.
"God! How beautiful you are!" was forced from his breast like a groan.
"You poison a man's blood!" His speech came in thick blurts like
clotting blood. "What business have you got up here? This is no country
for the likes of you!... I was a strong man before you came; and since
I looked at you I'm sick ... sick ... sick ... you've stolen my manhood
out of me! Don't you owe me common civility in return? I'd fawn like a
dog for a kindly look!... But don't you provoke me too far--don't think,
because maybe I can't meet your eye, I couldn't crush you--or have
others do it! You and your damned follower!... Oh, that would give me
ease!"
Natalie's breath came like a frightened bird's. Flight she realized
was dangerous--but it was as dangerous to stay; and how could she stay
listening to such impieties! Nick Grylls's own bulk cut off her retreat
in the direction of the settlement--but somewhere in the other direction
was Garth. She sized up the man in a darting glance; his swollen bulk
promised shortness of breath.
He made a move toward her. "What's to prevent me from taking you now?"
he muttered.
Natalie, turning, fled along the path; running like a bird with
incredibly swift, short steps.
Nick Grylls plunged after her, passion lending his great bulk lightness
and speed. The path, which is used for tracking boats up-stream, skirted
the extreme edge of a high-cut-bank bordering the river. On the one hand
a single false step would have precipitated them to the beach twenty-five
feet below; on the other hand the branches of an impenetrable undergrowth
scourged their faces as they ran. Here and there the rain had worn deep
fissures, across which leaped the nymph Natalie, with the panting Silenus
close at her heels. She was running desperately over unfamiliar ground,
knowing nothing of what lay ahead. She got away quicker than he; but he
gained on her. The pursuer always has the advantage, in that he can
measure his distance; and the quarry must make the pace.
The scene flashed past her like the half-sensed panorama of a hideous
dream. She dared not look over her shoulder, but she could hear his
heavy steps falling closer and closer. "He can run faster than I," she
thought; and a dreadful sinking clutched her heart. She hazarded a
fearful glance at the water below. The man's fingers clawed at her back.
In another instant she would have leapt over; but she felt the ground
tremble and give under her feet. She staggered, and with a desperate
leap, gained a firm foothold beyond. Behind her, with a rumble and a
hissing roar a great section of the bank half slid, half fell to the
river beach beneath, carrying down bushes, trees, stones--and her
pursuer.
She ran on without a backward look. In her thankful heart she could now
spare a glance of pity for the half-crazed man; but it did not carry her
to the length of stopping to see what had befallen him.
A little way farther on, the bank flattened down into a little valley,
which conveyed a brook to the river. A path struck inland here. Natalie,
leaping from stone to stone across the stream, suddenly saw Garth's
figure heave into sight around a bend in the path. Instantly she
slackened her pace; and her hands went to her breast to control the
agitation of the tenant there. She did not intend he should learn what
had happened.
So when they met she was perfectly quiet; but her eyes were luminous,
and her voice had a new dove-like note. To tell the truth, at the sight
of him striding along, pipe in mouth, with an interested eye for all
that showed; so cool and strong; so honest and clean and young; after
what she had just been through, Natalie was hard put to it to forbear
casting herself on his breast forthwith, and letting her heart still
itself there.
He instantly started to scold her for venturing so far alone. She was
glad to be scolded. She could not help slipping her arm through his
for a moment, just to feel that he was there.
"I will be good," she murmured in a moved, vibrant tone, like the deepest
note of the oboe. "Hereafter I will do exactly as you say."
Garth trembled at the sound; and was silent in the excess of his
happiness.
Returning, upon reaching the path up the valley, she made him turn inland;
and they pursued a roundabout course back to the hotel. Nick Grylls,
unhurt except as to certain abrasions of the countenance, and furiously
sullen, had reached there before them. During the rest of their stay he
carefully avoided them; but Garth was more than once conscious of the
venomous little eyes fixed upon him.