And if you're wishful, O maiden kind,
To know concerning me;
A far-flung sentinel am I
Of the R. N. W. M. P.
Renouncing women, as though wearing a cowl--
I live for a monthly wage
'Way out on the bald, green-brown prairie,
That stretches as far as the eye can see;
Where the lone gray wolf and the coyote howl,
And the badger digs in the sage.
--_The Prairie Detachment_
The day broke fine and clear. The hot sun quickly drying up the little
puddles and sticky mud resulting from the recent downpour. Benton,
rising early, watered and fed the horses. These duties despatched, and
his own breakfast at the hotel accounted for, he leisurely proceeded to
ascertain if the two participants in his previous night's adventure had
left town.
A few guarded inquiries and a brief, but thorough, search satisfied him
on this point; so saddling up Johnny, and tying on his slicker, he rode
slowly down to the depot to await the in-coming East-bound train prior
to his departure for his lonely detachment.
The train arrived, and on it, Churchill. The local sergeant was a man
about Ellis's own age, well set up and passable enough in appearance,
but with the florid, blotchy complexion, weak mouth, and uncertain gaze
of the habitual drinker. A few lucky arrests in which chance--more than
pluck or ability had figured, coupled with a certain cleverness in
avoiding trouble--had somehow enabled him to retain his stripes and the
sleepy little Line detachment. That there was no love lost between them
was very evident; Benton, on his side, making little effort to disguise
the contempt he felt for the other.
It was a long-standing hostility, dating back many years when, as
recruits together in the Post, a trivial quarrel originating first in
the Canteen, had terminated finally in the corral at the back of the
regimental stables--with disastrous results to Churchill--who, ever
since this event, had not been man enough to forget, forgive, or attempt
to get even.
A few cold civilities were exchanged, and Ellis remarking, "Here's the
key of your dive," chucked him over that article; then with a careless
"So long," turned his horse and edged up nearer to the platform to speak
to the station agent.
On account of a small wash-out that had happened to the track some few
miles east, the train was held up for a short time, and the platform was
crowded with passengers who were strolling up and down, glad of the
opportunity to stretch their legs after their long confinement.
Benton, less impatient than Johnny, who was pawing, eager to be off, was
watching them absently, when he suddenly became aware of his being,
apparently, an object of interest to somebody standing near and, turning
his head slightly, he beheld a tall, magnificently-built, dark girl,
eyeing him and Johnny with eager curiosity and admiration.
And in very truth, handsome, saturnine-faced Ellis Benton, and the big,
black, pawing horse that he bestrode with the long-stirruped,
loose-seated, easy, careless grace of an habitue of the range, were both
fitting representatives of the great Force which they served.
Wistful and sweet, the girl stood there and gazed awhile at man and
horse and presently she slowly came forward and, with a kind, impulsive
friendliness that immediately thawed the Sergeant's habitual reserve,
said:
"I'm sure you must be thinking me awfully rude--staring at you so long;
but I was looking at your beautiful horse and wondering whether you were
a policeman or a soldier or what."
And, smiling whimsically down into the girl's eager upturned face, the
Sergeant made answer:
"Young lady," with a droll little vainglorious gesture which amused her
intensely, "behold in me one of those important officials who hold the
High Justice, the Middle and the Low in these parts ... a sergeant of
the Mounted Police!" Then suddenly bitter remembrance set his pale,
steady eyes agleam with their peculiar ruthless light and his strong
white teeth gritted, as he added, "Otherwise, just a 'prairie cop.'"
She stroked and patted Johnny who, scenting a new friend, nickered
softly, tucked up his nigh fetlock in a beseeching manner, and nibbled
at her for sugar.
"Isn't he just a beauty!" she murmured. "My, but I'd be a proud girl if
I had a horse like him to ride. Do you ever?-- What is it, Auntie?" she
said, breaking off short as a stout, elderly lady with a petulant frown
on her forbidding face, came bustling up.
"Gracious, Mary!" snapped the aunt, very much out of breath, "I've been
looking everywhere for you," and angrily drawing the unwilling girl
aside, Ellis heard her say, "You shouldn't go talking to strange men in
that way, child ... really, Mary, I'm surprised at you!"
"But, Auntie," came that young lady's slightly indignant answer, "I was
only asking him about his horse, and he speaks quite like a gentleman."
The elder woman's response was partially inaudible to the Sergeant, but
a fragment of it--"Only a policeman!" smote his ears unpleasantly with
its pitiful snobbishness.
As they moved away, though, he was repaid for that lady's uncharitable
remark, as the girl, taking advantage of "Auntie's" ample back being
turned, faced round and bowed to him with a kindly smile, an unspoken
"Good-by" manifested in the gesture which he at once returned with a
courtly grace, saluting gravely.
Mechanically, his eyes followed the two ladies until they became lost in
the crowd, and then, with a muttered oath, he wheeled Johnny around and
rode slowly out of the town.
"What a fine-looking girl that was," he reflected. "Some rich American's
daughter, no doubt, en route from Banff or elsewhere in the mountain
summer resorts West, after having a good time." _Why_ shouldn't she talk
to him? And mixed with his brooding thoughts came the consciousness of
his _own_ joyless, danger-fraught life, with the bitter, hopeless,
lonely feeling that the single man past thirty knows so well, whose
occupation, and more especially--means--place him without the pale of
matrimony.
With the exception of those holding responsible staff appointments,
marriage was not particularly encouraged amongst the rank and file of
the Force, for many reasons. Lack of suitable quarters was partially the
cause of this policy; also (and not the least) the indisputable fact
that in the majority of cases where men are engaged in hazardous
pursuits the average single man is freer, and--as is only
natural--willing to run far greater personal risk in the execution of
his duty than a married man.
True, many of the non-coms, and even "straight-duty bucks," _were_
Benedicts, for various reasons best known to themselves. But Ellis,
forever mindful of the old fable of "The fox who lost his tail in a
trap," only laughed aside cynically all their feeble, joking admonitions
to him to join their ranks and, taking "Punch's" advice instead,
"didn't."
Why had that cursed old frump come butting in? "Only a policeman!" ...
And with an angry Ellis unconsciously rammed the spurs into poor,
unoffending Johnny, who immediately broke in his gait with a sidelong
jump which, in its suddenness, nearly unseated him.
The spasmodic jerk of the horse brought Benton to himself again, and
with a "There, there, Johnny--you old fool--I didn't mean to rake you,"
he patted and eased that startled animal down to his customary pace.
"She made a lot of you, didn't she, Johnny? And you know you liked it!"
He rambled on, for latterly--in the utter loneliness of his long
patrols--the Sergeant had contracted the strange habit of talking aloud
to his horse, and Johnny's sensitive ears would prick backwards and
forwards as if he thoroughly comprehended what was being said to him.
Traveling easily, and in no particular hurry, Benton made "Marshall's"
for dinner, and towards evening drew in sight of Cherry Creek district,
with its few scattered ranches and mixed farms.
When about half a mile from his detachment, some objects strewn on the
trail ahead attracted his attention which, on drawing near, took the
form of pieces of paper, some spilt chicken-feed and flour, bits of
board, and the tail-board of a wagon; also, had he but noticed it, a lot
of scattered nails.
With a grim chuckle he passed on. "Looks like somebody's had a
smash-up," he muttered. Suddenly he pulled Johnny up sharply, for the
latter had begun to limp perceptibly on the off-forefoot and, on
examination, Ellis found a nail deeply embedded at the side of the frog.
He tried to pry it out with his fingers and a knife, but it was in up to
the head and his attempts were useless.
"No help for it, Johnny," he said. "You'll have to stick it till we get
home," and with a disgusted malediction at the ill-luck, he wended his
way slowly ahead on foot, Johnny following on three legs like a lame
dog.
On arrival at their destination the nail was eventually extracted with
the aid of pincers, and after bathing and syringing the bleeding prod
with hot water and peroxide of hydrogen, the horse moved easier; but
Ellis was well aware that several days, perhaps a week, would elapse
before it would be safe to use him. And with the knowledge of this fact
oppressing him came also the realization that, should anything turn up
in the meantime, he would be under the necessity of borrowing a horse
from some one.
Stationed in a new district, he was naturally chary of placing himself
under obligation to anybody; so, cogitating over his predicament, he
watered, fed, and groomed Johnny and, after fixing up the wounded foot
in a hot poultice for the night, he retired into his own domain to cook
some supper.
The detachment, originally a ranch dwelling, was a square,
solid-looking, log-built structure, with a commodious stable in the
rear, and a corral and a fenced-in pasture. A huge, bleached buffalo
skull, with its stubby black horns--a relic of bygone years--frowned
down from over the main entrance, and a faded, weather-flapped Union
Jack hung from a short flag-staff at one pinnacle of the roof. With
whitewashed stones, the letters R.N.W.M.P. were formed in the earth
banking on the front side of the dwelling. The interior bespoke its
occupant's tidiness and orderly habits.
One entered directly into a moderate-sized room that was severe in its
sparsely furnished simplicity. A long, bench-like table, covered with a
tartan police rug, on which were some neatly piled blank legal forms,
and books, a Bible, and writing materials. A plain oak arm-chair for the
said table, and several smaller ones, with a couple of form-seats, were
ranged around the walls, and immediately facing the magisterial bench a
strongly-built cell with a barred door and aperture was partitioned off.
A few enlarged framed photographs of old-time police and legal
celebrities and a green baize-covered board decorated with an assortment
of brightly burnished leg-irons and handcuffs completed the adornment of
the chamber. Nevertheless, in spite of the room's simple aspect, one
instinctively guessed that here, as occasion occurred, the solemnity of
the Law was upheld with no less a dignity than in the highest court of
justice.
A door at one side of the cell opened into a larger apartment, evidently
used as a combined living and bedroom which, with its strange collection
of interesting objects, was typically significant of its owner's tastes
and personality. A comfortable, bachelor-like abode this, yet slightly
regimental withal too; for the blankets at the head of the cot were
strapped into the regulation neat roll with the sheets in the center,
whilst above, on a small shelf, were the folded spare uniform and
Stetson hat, on either side of which stood a pair of high, brown
Strathcona riding-boots with jack spurs attached. On pegs underneath
hung the "Sam Browne" belt and holster containing the heavy "Colt's .45"
Service revolver, together with a bridle, a head-rope, and a slicker.
Two or three easy chairs were scattered around and some tanned calf-skin
mats covered the floor. A table stood in the center littered with
periodicals and other reading matter, and a plain slung bookshelf held a
well-worn selection of classical and modern works of fiction. The walls
were relieved with varrious photographs, clever pen-and-ink sketches,
and unframed copies of famous pictures, among which were several
examples of Charles Russell's and Frederick Remington's works of art. A
tent-pegging lance, standing in a corner, supported a gaudy, feathered
Indian headdress on its point, while behind the door hung a set of
boxing gloves.
Five years of Benton's wandering life having been spent on the
veldt--two of them passed in the Chartered Company's service--accounted
for the curious South African trophies that were noticeable here and
there. A stuffed _meerkat_ crouched half raised, like a gigantic gopher,
and that ugly bald-headed vulture, known in the _Taal_ as an _aasvogel_,
looked down with unpitying eyes. Two magnificent leopard skin karosses
were flung over the armchairs, and a Zulu oxhide war shield was
suspended in an angle of the walls, flanked crosswise with its companion
weapons--a heavy knob-kerrie and a short, broad-bladed, stabbing
assegai, whilst above hung those one-time sinister symbols of authority
north of the Vaal--a rhinoceros-hide _sjambok_, a Mauser rifle, and a
captured "_Vierkleur_" flag. Adjoining this room were the kitchen and a
small compartment used as a storehouse.
His supper finished, and the daily diary, mileage report, and "monthly
returns" made out, the Sergeant lit a pipe and lay back in one of the
armchairs, lazily scanning the various criminal photographs in the last
copy of _The Detective_ he had brought with him from the Post, until
drowsiness overcoming him, the paper fluttered to the floor and his head
sank back against the leopard skin. The rays of the lamp shone full on
the strong, moody face, with the pipe still held clenched between the
teeth, and the athletic frame which, even in repose, contrived somehow
to convey in its posture an impression of instinctive, feline readiness
for sudden action.
Indeed, the man's whole appearance seemed to fittingly bear out the many
strange stories that were current of his strenuous and eventful past.