CHAPTER IX
Philip had entered Bram Johnson's cabin from the west. Out of the eastthe pale fire of the winter sun seemed to concentrate itself on the onewindow of Bram's habitation, and flooded the opposite partition. Inthis partition there was a doorway, and in the doorway stood a girl.
She was standing full in the light that came through the window whenPhilip saw her. His first impression was that she was clouded in thesame wonderful hair that had gone into the making of the golden snare.It billowed over her arms and breast to her hips, aflame with theliving fires of the reflected sun. His second impression was that hisentrance had interrupted her while she was dressing and that she wasbenumbed with astonishment as she stared at him. He caught the whitegleam of her bare shoulders under her hair. And then, with a shock, hesaw what was in her face.
It turned his blood cold. It was the look of a soul that had beentortured. Agony and doubt burned in the eyes that were looking at him.He had never seen such eyes. They were like violet amethysts. Her facewas dead white. It was beautiful. And she was young. She was not overtwenty, it flashed upon him--but she had gone through a hell.
"Don't let me alarm you," he said, speaking gently. "I am Philip Raineof the Royal Northwest Mounted Police."
It did not surprise him that she made no answer. As plainly as if shehad spoken it he had in those few swift moments read the story in herface. His heart choked him as he waited for her lips to move. It was amystery to him afterward why he accepted the situation so utterly as hestood there. He had no question to ask, and there was no doubt in hismind. He knew that he would kill Bram Johnson when the moment arrived.
The girl had not seemed to breathe, but now she drew in her breath in agreat gasp. He could see the sudden throb of her breast under her hair,but the frightened light did not leave her eyes even when he repeatedthe words he had spoken. Suddenly she ran to the window, and Philip sawthe grip of her hands at the sill as she looked out. Through the gateBram was driving his wolves. When she faced him again, her eyes had inthem the look of a creature threatened by a whip. It amazed andstartled him. As he advanced a step she cringed back from him. Itstruck him then that her face was like the face of an angel--filledwith a mad horror. She reached out her bare arms to hold him back, anda strange pleading cry came from her lips.
The cry stopped him like a shot. He knew that she had spoken to him.And yet he had not understood! He tore open his coat and the sunlightfell on his bronze insignia of the Service. Its effect on her amazedhim even more than had her sudden fear of him. It occurred to himsuddenly that with a two weeks' ragged growth of beard on his face hemust look something like a beast himself. She had feared him, as shefeared Bram, until she saw the badge.
"I am Philip Raine, of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police," he repeatedagain. "I have come up here especially to help you, if you need help. Icould have got Bram farther back, but there was a reason why I didn'twant him until I found his cabin. That reason was you. Why are you herewith a madman and a murderer?"
She was watching him intently. Her eyes were on his lips, and into herface--white a few moments before--had risen swiftly a flush of color.He saw the dread die out of her eyes in a new and dazzling excitement.Outside they could hear Bram. The girl turned again and looked throughthe window. Then she began talking, swiftly and eagerly, in a languagethat was as strange to Philip as the mystery of her presence in BramJohnson's cabin. She knew that he could not understand, and suddenlyshe came up close to him and put a finger to his lips, and then to herown, and shook her head. He could fairly feel the throb of herexcitement. The astounding truth held him dumb. She was trying to makehim comprehend something--in a language which he had never heard beforein all his life. He stared at her--like an idiot he told himselfafterward.
And then the shuffle of Bram's heavy feet sounded just outside thedoor. Instantly the old light leapt into the girl's eyes. Before thedoor could open she had darted into the room from which she had firstappeared, her hair floating about her in a golden cloud as she ran.
The door opened, and Bram entered. At his heels, beyond the threshold,Philip caught a glimpse of the pack glaring hungrily into the cabin.Bram was burdened under the load he had brought from the sledge. Hedropped it to the floor, and without looking at Philip his eyesfastened themselves on the door to the inner room.
They stood there for a full minute, Bram as if hypnotized by the door,and Philip with his eyes on Bram. Neither moved, and neither made asound. A curtain had dropped over the entrance to the inner room, andbeyond that they could hear the girl moving about. A dozen emotionswere fighting in Philip. If he had possessed a weapon he would haveended the matter with Bram then, for the light that was burning like astrange flame in the wolf-man's eyes convinced him that he had guessedthe truth. Bare-handed he was no match for the giant madman. For thefirst time he let his glance travel cautiously about the room. Near thestove was a pile of firewood. A stick of this would do--when theopportunity came.
And then, in a way that made him almost cry out, every nerve in hisbody was startled. The girl appeared in the doorway, a smile on herlips and her eyes shining radiantly--straight at Bram! She partly heldout her arms, and began talking. She seemed utterly oblivious ofPhilip's presence. Not a word that she uttered could he understand. Itwas not Cree or Chippewyan or Eskimo. It was not French or German orany tongue that he had ever heard. Her voice was pure and soft. Ittrembled a little, and she was breathing quickly. But the look in herface that had at first horrified him was no longer there. She hadbraided her hair and had coiled the shining strands on the crown of herhead, and the coloring in her face was like that of a rare painting. Inthese astounding moments he knew that such color and such hair did notgo with any race that had ever bred in the northland. From her face,even as her lips spoke, he looked at Bram. The wolf-man wastransfigured. His strange eyes were shining, his heavy face was filledwith a dog-like joy, and his thick lips moved as if he was repeating tohimself what the girl was saying.
Was it possible that he understood her? Was the strange language inwhich she was speaking common between them! At first Philip thoughtthat it must be so--and all the horrors of the situation that he hadbuilt up for himself fell about him in confusing disorder. The girl, asshe stood there now, seemed glad that Bram had returned; and with aheart choking him with its suspense he waited for Bram to speak, andact.
When the girl ceased speaking the wolf-man's response came in aguttural cry that was like a paean of triumph. He dropped on his kneesbeside the dunnage bag and mumbling thickly as he worked he beganemptying its contents upon the floor.
Philip looked at the girl. She was looking at him now. Her hands wereclutched at her breast, and in her face and attitude there was awordless entreaty for him to understand. The truth came to him like aflash. For some reason she had forced herself to appear that way to thewolf-man. She had forced herself to smile, forced the look of gladnessinto her face, and the words from her lips. And now she was trying totell him what it meant, and pointing to Bram as he knelt with his hugehead and shoulders bent over the dunnage bag on the floor she exclaimedin a low, tense voice:
"Tossi--tossi--han er tossi!"
It was useless. He could not understand, and it was impossible for himto hide the bewilderment in his face. All at once an inspiration cameto him. Bram's back was toward him, and he pointed to the sticks offirewood. His pantomime was clear. Should he knock the wolf-man'sbrains out as he knelt there?
He could see that his question sent a thrill of alarm through her. Sheshook her head. Her lips formed strange words, and looking again atBram she repeated, "Tossi--tossi--han er tossi!" She clasped her handssuddenly to her head then. Her slim fingers buried themselves in thethick braids of her hair. Her eyes dilated--and suddenly understandingflashed upon him. She was telling him what he already knew--that BramJohnson was mad, and he repeated after her the "Tossi-tossi," tappinghis forehead suggestively, and nodding at Bram. Yes, that was it. Hecould see it in the quick intake of her breath and the s
uddenexpression of relief that swept over her face. She had been afraid hewould attack the wolf-man. And now she was glad that he understood hewas not to harm him.
If the situation had seemed fairly clear to him a few minutes before ithad become more deeply mysterious than ever now. Even as the wolf-manrose from his knees, still mumbling to himself in incoherentexultation, the great and unanswerable question pounded in Philip'sbrain: "Who was this girl, and what was she to Bram Johnson--the crazedoutlaw whom she feared and yet whom she did not wish him to harm?"
And then he saw her staring at the things which Bram had sorted out onthe floor. In her eyes was hunger. It was a living, palpitant part ofher now as she stared at the things which Bram had taken from thedunnage bag--as surely as Bram's madness was a part of him. As Philipwatched her he knew that slowly the curtain was rising on the tragedyof the golden snare. In a way the look that he saw in her face shockedhim more than anything that he had seen in Bram's. It was as if, infact, a curtain had lifted before his eyes revealing to him anunbelievable truth, and something of the hell through which she hadgone. She was hungry--FOR SOMETHING THAT WAS NOT FLESH! Swiftly thethought flashed upon him why the wolf-man had traveled so far to thesouth, and why he had attacked him for possession of his food supply.It was that he might bring these things to the girl. He knew that itwas sex-pride that restrained the impulse that was pounding in everyvein of her body. She wanted to fling herself down on her knees besidethat pile of stuff--but she remembered HIM! Her eyes met his, and theshame of her confession swept in a crimson flood into her face. Thefeminine instinct told her that she had betrayed herself--like ananimal, and that he must have seen in her for a moment something thatwas almost like Bram's own madness.