Chapter XVI. "INJUN PETE"
Nan Sherwood could not cry out, though she tried. She opened her lipsonly to find her throat so constricted by fear that she could not uttera sound. Perhaps her sudden and utter paralysis was of benefit atthe moment, after all; for she could not possibly have escaped theinfuriated lynx by running.
The creature's own movements were hampered by the deep drift in whichshe had landed. The soft snow impeded the cat and, snarling still, shewhirled around and around like a pinwheel to beat a firmer foundationfrom which to make her final spring at her victim.
Nan, crouching, put her mittened hands before her face. She saw nochance for escape and could not bear to see the vicious beast leap ather again. "Momsey! Papa Sherwood!" she thought, rather than breathedaloud.
Then, down the hill toward her, plunged a swift body. She rather feltthe new presence than saw it. The cat yowled again, and spit. There wasthe impact of a clubbed gun upon the creature's head.
"Sacre bleu! Take zat! And zat!" cried a sharp voice, between the blowsthat fell so swiftly. The animal's cries changed instantly from rage topain. Nan opened her eyes in time to see the maddened cat flee swiftly.She bounded to the big tree and scrambled up the trunk and out upon thefirst limb. There she crouched, over the place where her kittens werehidden, yowling and licking her wounds. There was blood upon her headand she licked again and again a broken forefoot between her yowls ofrage and pain.
But Nan was more interested just then in the person who had flown toher rescue so opportunely. He was not one of the men from the camp, oranybody whom she had ever seen before.
He was not a big man, but was evidently very strong and active. Hisdress was of the most nondescript character, consisting mainly of atattered fur cap, with a woolen muffler tied over his ears; a patchedand parti-colored coat belted at the waist with a frayed rope. His legsdisappeared into the wide tops of a pair of boots evidently too big forhim, with the feet bundled in bagging so that he could walk on top ofthe snow, this in lieu of regular snowshoes.
His back was toward Nan and he did not turn to face her as he said:
"Be not afeared, leetle Man'zelle. Le bad chat is gone. We shall now dofamous-lee, eh? No be afeared more."
"No, no, sir," gasped Nan, trying to be brave. "Won't, won't it comeback?"
"Nev-air!" cried the man, with a flourish of the gun which was arusty-barreled old weapon, perhaps more dangerous at the butt end thanat its muzzle. "Ze chat only fear for her babies. She have zem in dattree. We will go past leeving zem streectly alone, eh?"
"No!" cried Nan hastily. "I'm going back to the camp. I didn't knowthere were such dangerous things as that in these woods."
"Ah! You are de strange leetle Mam'zelle den?" responded the man. "Youdo not know ze Beeg Woods?"
"I guess I don't know anything about this wilderness," confessed Nan."My uncle brought me to the camp up yonder this morning, and I hopehe'll go right home again. It's awful!"
"Eet seem terrifying to ze leetle Mam'zelle because she is unused--eh?Me! I be terrified at ze beeg city where she come from, p'r'aps. Zeytell Pete 'bout waggings run wizout horses, like stea'mill. Ugh! Nowanter see dem. Debbil in 'em," and he laughed, not unpleasantly, makinga small joke of the suggestion.
Indeed his voice, now that the sharpness of excitement had gone out ofit, was a very pleasant voice. The broken words he used assured Nan thathis mother tongue must be French. He was probably one of the "Canucks"she had heard her cousins speak of. French Canadians were not at allstrange to Nan Sherwood, for in Tillbury many of the mill hands were ofthat race.
But she thought it odd that this man kept his face studiously turnedfrom her. Was he watching the bobcat all the time? Was the danger muchmore serious than he would own?
"Why don't you look at me?" cried the girl, at length. "I'm awfully muchobliged to you for coming to help me as you did. And my uncle will wantto thank you I am sure. Won't you tell me your name?"
The man was silent for a moment. Then, when he spoke, his voice waslower and there was an indescribably sad note in it.
"Call me 'Injun Pete', zat me. Everybody in de beeg Woods know InjunPete. No odder name now. Once ze good Brodders at Aramac goin' makescholar of Pete, make heem priest, too, p'r'aps. He go teach amonghe's mudder's people. Mudder Micmac, fadder wild Frinchman come to deeslakeshore. But nev-air can Pete be Teacher, be priest. Non, non! Jes'Injun Pete."
Nan suddenly remembered what little Margaret Llewellen had said aboutthe fire at Pale Lick, and "Injun Pete." The fact that this man kepthis face turned from her all this time aroused her suspicion. She wasdeeply, deeply grateful to him for what he had just done for her, and,naturally, she enlarged in her mind the peril in which she had beenplaced.
Margaret had suggested this unfortunate half-breed was "not right in hishead" because of the fire which had disfigured him. But he spoke verysensibly now, it seemed to Nan; very pitifully, too, about his blastedhopes of a clerical career. She said, quietly:
"I expect you know my uncle and his family, Pete. He is Mr. Sherwood ofPine Camp."
"Ah! Mis-tair Hen Sherwood! I know heem well," admitted the man. "Henice-a man ver' kind to Injun Pete."
"I'd like to have you look at me, please," said Nan, still softly. "Yousee, I want to know you again if we meet. I am very grateful."
Pete waved her thanks aside with a royal gesture. "Me! I be glad to beof use, oh, oui! Leetle Man'zelle mus' not make mooch of nottin', eh?"
He laughed again, but he did not turn to look at her. Nan reached out atentative hand and touched his sleeve. "Please, Mr. Pete," she said. "I,I want to see you. I, I have heard something about your having been hurtin a fire. I am sure you must think yourself a more hateful sight thanyou really are."
A sob seemed to rise in the man's throat, and his shoulders shook. Heturned slowly and looked at her for a moment over his shoulder. Then hewent swiftly away across the snow (for the bobcat had disappeared intoher lair) and Nan stumbled back up the trail toward the camp, the tearsblinding her own eyes.
The disfigured face of the half-breed HAD been a shock to her. She couldnever speak of it afterward. Indeed, she could not tell Uncle Henryabout her meeting with the lynx, and her rescue--she shrank so fromrecalling Injun Pete's disfigured face.