Heedless of drizzling rain and snow, of driving wind and gathering
darkness, Manikawan ran forward on the trail. Hatred was in her heart.
Vengeance was crying to her. Every subtle, cunning instinct of her
savage race was aroused in her bosom.
She was determined that those who had sent her beloved White Brother
of the Snow to destruction in the deadly place of evil spirits must
die. How she should compass their death she did not yet know; this was
a detail for circumstance to decide, but it must be done. White
Brother of the Snow was of her tribe; the law of her savage nature
told her his death must be avenged.
At the end of a mile or so she left the trail and turned sharply to
the northward, winding her way deftly through moisture-laden
underbrush which scarcely seemed to lessen her pace. Presently she
broke out upon the shores of a lake and behind some willow bushes
uncovered a small birch-bark canoe, which she had carefully concealed
there on her journey to the river tilt.
Turning the canoe over her head, with the middle thwart resting upon
her shoulders, she took a southwesterly direction until the old
portage trail was again encountered, and resuming the trail she at
length came upon the first lake of the chain through which the portage
route passed.
The storm had ceased, and the stars were breaking through the clouds
as Manikawan launched her canoe. It was a long, narrow lake, and
paddling its length she had no difficulty in locating the place where
the stream entered; and not far away a blazed tree, now plainly
visible in the light of the rising moon, told her where the trail led
out.
Here, as she stepped ashore, she discovered the first of the series of
tilts which Bob and Shad had built, and, immediately pushing aside the
flimsy bark door, entered the tilt and struck a match. Its flare
disclosed a half-burned candle on a shelf near the door, and lighting
it she held it aloft for a survey of the interior of the tilt.
On the bunk at the side were two or three bags evidently containing
clothing and other supplies, while on the bunk in the rear were some
odds and ends of clothing, a folded tent, a coil of rope, doubtless
used by the young adventurers as a tracking line, to assist them in
hauling their canoe up the swift stream which connected the lake with
the river below, and a rifle in a sealskin case.
On beholding this last object, Manikawan gave a low exclamation of
pleasure. Taking a chip from the floor she bent the candle over it,
permitting some of the hot grease to flow upon it, and setting the
candle firmly in the grease placed the improvised candlestick upon the
tent stove.
Then, reaching for the rifle, she drew it from the case and examined
it critically. The magazine proved to be fully charged. Returning the
rifle to its case, she now examined the other contents of the tilt,
and presently came upon a quantity of cartridges in one of the bags.
Several of these she appropriated, and dropping them into a leathern
pouch at her belt, restored the remaining contents of the tilt to the
position in which she had found them. Then taking the rifle in its
case, she blew out the candle, and passed out of the tilt, carefully
closing the door behind her.
The moon was now sufficiently risen to light the trail, and the blazes
which Ungava Bob had made were so clear that Manikawan's progress was
rapid.
Spectral shadows lay all about her, flitting here and there across her
trail as she sped onward and onward through the dark forests that
intervened between the lakes. In the distance she heard the voices of
the evil spirits so dreaded by her people, speaking in dull,
monotonous undertones, like ceaseless, rolling thunder far away,
threatening destruction and death to all who fell within their reach.
Even to her, whose home was the wilderness, the situation was weird
and uncanny.
At length she passed another tilt near the end of a lake, but she did
not pause to enter it. A little beyond the tilt the trail crossed a
rise of ground, and upon reaching the summit she beheld in the
distance a long, wide, silvery streak glistening in the moonlight. It
was the river, and with a sense of relief she lowered the canoe from
her shoulders and concealed it carefully amongst the underbrush.
She glanced at the stars and calculated the time until dawn. The
region into which she had come was wholly unfamiliar to her, and she
must have daylight to reconnoitre and locate the camp of her enemies.
There was still ample time for rest, for this was the season of
lengthening nights and shortening days, and Manikawan was in much need
of rest and food. For nearly thirty-six hours she had been exerting
herself to the utmost of her strength. At the river tilt she had made
a fire in the stove and brewed herself some tea, but she had eaten
nothing. Now, with the moment's relaxation, a feeling of great fatigue
came upon her, and for the first time she realised the length of her
fast and the extent of her weariness.
Slowly she retraced her steps to the tilt which she had passed on the
lake shore a little way back. Entering it she struck a match and
lighted a candle, as she had done at the other tilt, and with its
assistance found the flour, pork, and tea, together with a frying pan
and kettle which Ungava Bob had left there the day that he and Shad
Trowbridge were attacked by the Indians.
She went to the lake for a kettle of water, and returning gathered a
handful of birch bark. Using the bark for tinder and appropriating
wood which she found split and neatly piled near the stove for ready
use, she lighted a fire in the stove, and set the kettle on to heat
for tea. This done she cut several thick slices of fat pork, which she
fried in the pan, and mixing a quantity of flour and water into dough,
browned the dough in the pork grease.
It was with a keen appetite that she sat down to her long-deferred
banquet; and with vast relief she drank the tea and ate the pork and
dough cake. Then, wearied to the last degree, she fell back upon one
of the bunks, the rifle by her side; and with the distant rumble of
the falls in her ears, fell immediately asleep.
It was broad day when Manikawan opened her eyes. She seized the
kettle, and hastening to the lake laved her face and head in the
cooling water. Then, from a buckskin pouch at her belt, she drew a
neat birch-bark case, decorated with porcupine quills, and from the
case a rudely fashioned comb, from which dangled by a buckskin thong a
tuft of porcupine tail. The lake was her mirror, as she smoothed and
rebraided her hair. This done, she ran the comb several times through
the tuft of porcupine tail before returning it to its case.
Her simple toilet completed, Manikawan mounted a high pinnacle of rock
and for several minutes stood silently contemplating the rising sun.
The eastern sky was ablaze with red and purple and orange, and she
beheld the glory of the scene with deep reverence.
Upon her pinnacle of rock she felt herself in the presence of the
Mysterious Power which governed her destiny and the world in which she
lived, and after the manner of her fathers she besought that
Mysterious Presence in unspoken words, to make her pure and noble and
generous; to make her worthy to stand in its Presence--worthy to live
in the beautiful world which surrounded her.
But Manikawan was not a Christian. She knew nothing of the white man's
God or of Christ's lessons of forgiveness, and she descended from the
rock morally strengthened, perhaps, in her savage way, but no less
determined to wreak vengeance upon those whom she deemed her enemies.
While she slept she had heard constantly the voice of the evil spirits
of the falls, and the spirits themselves had come to her in a dream,
and whispering in her ear had urged her on to vengeance, and promised
her immunity from their wrath. Manikawan, like all her people, was
superstitious in the extreme. She believed absolutely in the
supernatural, and her faith in dreams was unwavering.
The sun was hour high when she set forth again upon her mission.
Mounting the semi-barren ridge where she had hidden her canoe, she
crouched low behind the bushes, and catlike and noiselessly descended
to the forest on the other side. Here under cover of the trees she
proceeded more rapidly to the end of the portage trail.
Peering out from her cover, she first studied every foot of the river
and surrounding country that lay within the range of her vision; then
moving silently forward she removed the rifle, which she still
carried, from its sealskin case and laid the case on the ground behind
a boulder and the weapon upon it, where it would be completely hidden
from view, but still available for instant use.
This arranged to her satisfaction, she crossed the trail, and gliding
as noiselessly as a shadow through the trees, ascended the river bank
to reconnoitre for the Mingen camp. The Indians that visited her
father's lodge had said that they were encamped near the river, and
not far above the portage trail.