CHAPTER NINETEEN
During the last few days in December all trails for ten thousand squaremiles around led to Post Fort 0' God. It was the eve of OOSKEPIPOON--of the New Year--the mid-winter carnival time of the people ofthe wilderness, when from teepees and cabins far and near come thetrappers and their families to sell their furs and celebrate for a fewdays with others of their kind. To this New Year gathering men, women,and children look forward through long and weary months. The trapper'swife has no neighbour. Her husband's "line" is a little kingdominviolate, with no other human life within many miles of it; so for thewomen the OOSKE PIPOON is a time of rejoicing; for the children it isthe "big circus," and for the men a reward for the labour and hardshipof catching their fur. During these few days old acquaintanceships arerenewed and new ones are made. It is here that the "news" of thetrackless wilderness is spread, the news of deaths, of marriages, andof births; of tragic happenings that bring horror and grief and tears,and of others that bring laughter and joy. For the first and last timein all the seven months' winter the people of the forests "come totown." Indian, halfbreed, "blood," and white man, join in the holidaywithout distinction of colour or creed.
This year there was to be a great caribou roast, a huge barbecue, atFort O' God, and by the time Henri Durant came within half a dozenmiles of the Post the trails from north and south and east and westwere beaten hard by the tracks of dogs and men. That year a hundredsledges came in from the forests, and with them were three hundred menand women and children and half a thousand dogs.
Durant was a day later than he had planned to be, but he had made gooduse of his time. For Miki, while still muzzled, now followed at the endof the babiche that was tied to Henri's sledge. In the afternoon of thethird day after leaving Nanette Le Beau's cabin Durant turned off themain-travelled trail until he came to the shack of Andre Ribon, whokept the Factor and his people at the Post supplied with fresh meat.Andre, who was becoming over-anxious at Durant's delay, was stillwaiting when his friend came. It was here that Henri's Indian had lefthis fighting dog, the big husky. And here he left Miki, locked inAndre's shack. Then the two men went on to the Post which was only amile away.
Neither he nor Ribon returned that night. The cabin was empty. And withthe beginning of dusk Miki began to hear weird and strange sounds whichgrew louder as darkness settled deeper. It was the sound of thecarnival at the Post--the distant tumult of human voice mingled withthe howling of a hundred dogs. He had never heard anything like itbefore, and for a long time he listened without moving. Then he stoodup like a man before the window with this fore-paws resting against theheavy sash. Ribon's cabin was at the crest of a knoll that over-lookedthe frozen lake, and far off, over the tops of the scrub timber thatfringed the edge of it, Miki saw the red glow in the sky made by ascore of great camp fires. He whined, and dropped on his four feetagain. It was a long wait between that and another day. But the cabinwas more comfortable than Le Beau's prison-cage had been. All throughthe night his restless slumber was filled with visions of Nanette andthe baby.
Durant and Ribon did not return until nearly noon the next day. Theybrought with them fresh meat, of which Miki ate ravenously, for he washungry. In an unresponsive way he tolerated the advances of these two.A second night he was left alone in the cabin. When Durant and Riboncame back again in the early dawn they brought with them a cage fourfeet square made of small birch saplings. The open door of this cagethey drew close to the door of the cabin, and by means of a chunk offresh meat Miki was induced to enter through it. Instantly the trapfell, and he was a prisoner. The cage was already fastened on a widetoboggan, and scarcely was the sun up when Miki was on his way to FortO' God.
This was the big day at the carnival--the day of the caribou-roast andthe fight. For many minutes before they came in sight of Fort O' GodMiki heard the growing sound. It amazed him, and he stood up on hisfeet in his cage, rigid and alert, utterly unconscious of the men whowere pulling him. He was looking ahead of them, and Durant chuckledexultantly as they heard him growl, and his teeth click.
"Oui, he will fight! He would fight NOW," he chuckled.
They were following the shore of a lake. Suddenly they came around theend of a point, and all of Fort O' God lay on the rising shelf of theshore ahead of them. The growl died in Miki's throat. His teeth shutwith a last click. For an instant his heart seemed to grow dead andstill. Until this moment his world had held only half a dozen humanbeings. Now, so suddenly that he had no flash of warning, he saw ahundred of them, two hundred, three hundred. At sight of Durant and thecage a swarm of them began running down to the shore. And everywherethere were wolves, so many of them that his senses grew dazed as hestared. His cage was the centre of a clamouring, gesticulating horde ofmen and boys as it was dragged up the slope. Women began joining thecrowd, many of them with small children in their arms. Then his journeycame to an end. He was close to another cage, and in that cage was abeast like himself. Beside this cage there stood a tall, swarthy,shaggy-headed halfbreed who looked like a pirate. The man was GrousePiet, Durant's rival.
A contemptuous leer was on his thick-lipped face as he looked at Miki.He turned, and to the group of dark-faced Indians and breeds about himhe said something that roused a guttural laugh.
Durant's face flamed red.
"Laugh, you heathen," he challenged, "but don't forget that HenriDurant is here to take your bets!" Then he shook the two cross and tenred foxes in the face of Grouse Piet.
"Cover them, Grouse Piet," he cried. "And I have ten times more wherethey came from!"
With his muzzle lifted, Miki was sniffing the air. It was filled withstrange scents, heavy with the odours of men, of dogs, and of the fivehuge caribou roasting on their spits fifteen feet over the big firesthat were built under them. For ten hours those caribou would roast,turning slowly on spits as thick as a man's leg. The fight was to comebefore the feast.
For an hour the clatter and tumult of voices hovered about the twocages. Men appraised the fighters and made their bets, and Grouse Pietand Henri Durant made their throats hoarse flinging banter and contemptat each other. At the end of the hour the crowd began to thin out. Inthe place of men and women half a hundred dark-visaged little childrencrowded about the cages. It was not until then that Miki caughtglimpses of the hordes of beasts fastened in ones and twos and groupsin the edge of the clearing. His nostrils had at last caught thedistinction. They were not wolves. They were like himself.
It was a long time before his eyes rested steadily on the wolf-dog inthe other cage. He went to the edge of his bars and sniffed. Thewolf-dog thrust his gaunt muzzle toward him. He made Miki think of thehuge wolf he had fought one day on the edge of the cliff, andinstinctively he showed his fangs, and snarled. The wolf-dog snarledback. Henri Durant rubbed his hands exultantly, and Grouse Piet laughedsoftly.
"Oui; they will FIGHT!" said Henri again.
"Ze wolf, he will fight, oui," said Grouse Piet. "But your dog, m'sieu,he be vair seek, lak a puppy, w'en ze fight come!"
A little later Miki saw a white man standing close to his cage. It wasMacDonnell, the Scotch factor. He gazed at Miki and the wolf-dog withtroubled eyes. Ten minutes later, in the little room which he had madehis office, he was saying to a younger man:
"I'd like to stop it, but I can't. They wouldn't stand for it. It wouldlose us half a season's catch of fur. There's been a fight like this atFort O' God for the last fifty years, and I don't suppose, after all,that it's any worse than one of the prize fights down there. Only, inthis case--"
"They kill," said the younger man.
"Yes, that's it. Usually one of the dogs dies."
The younger man knocked the ash out of his pipe.
"I love dogs," he said, simply. "There'll never be a fight at my post,Mac--unless it's between men. And I'm not going to see this fight,because I'm afraid I'd kill some one if I did."