CHAPTER 17
Back to Lac Bain, late in September, came MacDonald the map maker. Forten days Gregson, the investigating agent, had been Bush McTaggart'sguest at the Post, and twice in that time it had come into Marie's mindto creep upon him while he slept and kill him. The factor himself paidlittle attention to her now, a fact which would have made her happy ifit had not been for Gregson. He was enraptured with the wild, sinuousbeauty of the Cree girl, and McTaggart, without jealousy, encouragedhim. He was tired of Marie.
McTaggart told Gregson this. He wanted to get rid of her, and ifhe--Gregson--could possibly take her along with him it would be a greatfavor. He explained why. A little later, when the deep snows came, hewas going to bring the daughter of Pierrot Du Quesne to the Post. Inthe rottenness of their brotherhood he told of his visit, of the mannerof his reception, and of the incident at the chasm. In spite of allthis, he assured Gregson, Pierrot's girl would soon be at Lac Bain.
It was at this time that MacDonald came. He remained only one night,and without knowing that he was adding fuel to a fire alreadydangerously blazing, he gave the photograph he had taken of Nepeese tothe factor. It was a splendid picture.
"If you can get it down to that girl some day I'll be mightilyobliged," he said to McTaggart. "I promised her one. Her father's nameis Du Quesne--Pierrot Du Quesne. You probably know them. And the girl--"
His blood warmed as he described to McTaggart how beautiful she wasthat day in her red dress, which appeared black in the photograph. Hedid not guess how near McTaggart's blood was to the boiling point.
The next day MacDonald started for Norway House. McTaggart did not showGregson the picture. He kept it to himself and at night, under the glowof his lamp, he looked at it with thoughts that filled him with agrowing resolution. There was but one way. The scheme had been in hismind for weeks--and the picture determined him. He dared not whisperhis secret even to Gregson. But it was the one way. It would give himNepeese. Only--he must wait for the deep snows, the midwinter snows.They buried their tragedies deepest.
McTaggart was glad when Gregson followed the map maker to Norway House.Out of courtesy he accompanied him a day's journey on his way. When hereturned to the Post, Marie was gone. He was glad. He sent off a runnerwith a load of presents for her people, and the message: "Don't beather. Keep her. She is free."
Along with the bustle and stir of the beginning of the trapping seasonMcTaggart began to prepare his house for the coming of Nepeese. He knewwhat she liked in the way of cleanliness and a few other things. He hadthe log walls painted white with the lead and oil that were intendedfor his York boats. Certain partitions were torn down, and new oneswere built. The Indian wife of his chief runner made curtains for thewindows, and he confiscated a small phonograph that should have gone onto Lac la Biche. He had no doubts, and he counted the days as theypassed.
Down on the Gray Loon Pierrot and Nepeese were busy at many things, sobusy that at times Pierrot's fears of the factor at Lac Bain werealmost forgotten, and they slipped out of the Willow's mind entirely.It was the Red Moon, and both thrilled with the anticipation andexcitement of the winter hunt. Nepeese carefully dipped a hundred trapsin boiling caribou fat mixed with beaver grease, while Pierrot madefresh deadfalls ready for setting on his trails. When he was gone morethan a day from the cabin, she was always with him.
But at the cabin there was much to do, for Pierrot, like all hisNorthern brotherhood, did not begin to prepare until the keen tang ofautumn was in the air. There were snowshoes to be rewebbed with newbabiche; there was wood to be cut in readiness for the winter storms.The cabin had to be banked, a new harness made, skinning knivessharpened and winter moccasins to be manufactured--a hundred and oneaffairs to be attended to, even to the repairing of the meat rack atthe back of the cabin, where, from the beginning of cold weather untilthe end, would hang the haunches of deer, caribou, and moose for thefamily larder and, when fish were scarce, the dogs' rations.
In the bustle of all these preparations Nepeese was compelled to giveless attention to Baree than she had during the preceding weeks. Theydid not play so much; they no longer swam, for with the mornings therewas deep frost on the ground, and the water was turning icy cold. Theyno longer wandered deep in the forest after flowers and berries. Forhours at a time Baree would now lie at the Willow's feet, watching herslender fingers as they weaved swiftly in and out with her snowshoebabiche. And now and then Nepeese would pause to lean over and put herhand on his head, and talk to him for a moment--sometimes in her softCree, sometimes in English or her father's French.
It was the Willow's voice which Baree had learned to understand, andthe movement of her lips, her gestures, the poise of her body, thechanging moods which brought shadow or sunlight into her face. He knewwhat it meant when she smiled. He would shake himself, and often jumpabout her in sympathetic rejoicing, when she laughed. Her happiness wassuch a part of him that a stern word from her was worse than a blow.Twice Pierrot had struck him, and twice Baree had leaped back and facedhim with bared fangs and an angry snarl, the crest along his backstanding up like a brush. Had one of the other dogs done this, Pierrotwould have half-killed him. It would have been mutiny, and the man mustbe master. But Baree was always safe. A touch of the Willow's hand, aword from her lips, and the crest slowly settled and the snarl went outof his throat.
Pierrot was not at all displeased.
"Dieu. I will never go so far as to try and whip that out of him," hetold himself. "He is a barbarian--a wild beast--and her slave. For herhe would kill!"
So it turned out, through Pierrot himself--and without telling hisreason for it--that Baree did not become a sledge dog. He was allowedhis freedom, and was never tied, like the others. Nepeese was glad, butdid not guess the thought that was in Pierrot's mind. To himselfPierrot chuckled. She would never know why he kept Baree alwayssuspicious of him, even to the point of hating him.
It required considerable skill and cunning on his part. With himself hereasoned:
"If I make him hate me, he will hate all men. Mey-oo! That is good."
So he looked into the future--for Nepeese.
Now the tonic-filled days and cold, frosty nights of the Red Moonbrought about the big change in Baree. It was inevitable. Pierrot knewthat it would come, and the first night that Baree settled back on hishaunches and howled up at the Red Moon, Pierrot prepared Nepeese for it.
"He is a wild dog, ma Nepeese," he said to her. "He is half wolf, andthe Call will come to him strong. He will go into the forests. He willdisappear at times. But we must not fasten him. He will come back. Ka,he will come back!" And he rubbed his hands in the moonglow until hisknuckles cracked.
The Call came to Baree like a thief entering slowly and cautiously intoa forbidden place. He did not understand it at first. It made himnervous and uneasy, so restless that Nepeese frequently heard him whinesoftly in his sleep. He was waiting for something. What was it? Pierrotknew, and smiled in his inscrutable way.
And then it came. It was night, a glorious night filled with moon andstars, under which the earth was whitening with a film of frost, whenthey heard the first hunt call of the wolves. Now and then during thesummer there had come the lone wolf howl, but this was the tonguing ofthe pack; and as it floated through the vast silence and mystery of thenight, a song of savagery that had come with each Red Moon down throughunending ages, Pierrot knew that at last had come that for which Bareehad been waiting.
In an instant Baree had sensed it. His muscles grew taut as pieces ofstretched rope as he stood up in the moonlight, facing the directionfrom which floated the mystery and thrill of the sound. They could hearhim whining softly; and Pierrot, bending down so that he caught thelight of the night properly, could see him trembling.
"It is Mee-Koo!" he said in a whisper to Nepeese.
That was it, the call of the blood that was running swift in Baree'sveins--not alone the call of his species, but the call of Kazan andGray Wolf and of his forbears for generations unnumbered. It was thevoice
of his people. So Pierrot had whispered, and he was right. In thegolden night the Willow was waiting, for it was she who had gambledmost, and it was she who must lose or win. She uttered no sound,replied not to the low voice of Pierrot, but held her breath andwatched Baree as he slowly faded away, step by step, into the shadows.In a few moments more he was gone. It was then that she stood straight,and flung back her head, with eyes that glowed in rivalry with thestars.
"Baree!" she called. "Baree! Baree! Baree!"
He must have been near the edge of the forest, for she had drawn aslow, waiting breath or two before he was and he whined up into herface. Nepeese put her hands to his head.
"You are right, mon pere," she said. "He will go to the wolves, but hewill come back. He will never leave me for long." With one hand stillon Baree's head, she pointed with the other into the pitlike blacknessof the forest. "Go to them, Baree!" she whispered. "But you must comeback. You must. Cheamao!"
With Pierrot she went into the cabin; the door closed silence. In it hecould hear the soft night sounds: the clinking of the chains to whichthe dogs were fastened, the restless movement of their bodies, thethrobbing whir of a pair of wings, the breath of the night itself. Forto him this night, even in its stillness, seemed alive. Again he wentinto it, and close to the forest once more he stopped to listen. Thewind had turned, and on it rode the wailing, blood-thrilling cry of thepack. Far off to the west a lone wolf turned his muzzle to the sky andanswered that gathering call of his clan. And then out of the east camea voice, so far beyond the cabin that it was like an echo dying away inthe vastness of the night.
A choking note gathered in Baree's throat. He threw up his head.Straight above him was the Red Moon, inviting him to the thrill andmystery of the open world.
The sound grew in his throat, and slowly it rose in volume until hisanswer was rising to the stars. In their cabin Pierrot and the Willowheard it. Pierrot shrugged his shoulders.
"He is gone," he said.
"Oui, he is gone, mon pere" replied Nepeese, peering through the window.