CHAPTER XIX
THE LOUCHOUX GIRL
Winter laid a heavy hand upon the country of the Great Slave. Blizzardafter howling blizzard came out of the North until the buildings ofChloe Elliston's school lay drifted to the eaves in the centre of thesnow-swept clearing.
With the drifting snows and the bitter, intense cold that isolated thelittle colony from the great world to the southward, came a sense ofpeace and quietude that contrasted sharply with the turbulent,surcharged atmosphere with which the girl had been surrounded from themoment she had unwittingly become a factor in the machinations of thewarring masters of wolf-land.
With MacNair safely behind the bars of a jail far to the southward, andLapierre somewhere upon the distant rivers, the Indians for the firsttime relaxed from the strain of tense expectancy. Of her own originalIndians, those who had remained at the school by command of the craftyLapierre, there remained only LeFroy and a few of the older men whowere unfit to go on the trap-lines, together with the women andchildren.
MacNair's Indians, who had long since laid down their traps to pick upthe white man's tools, stayed at the school. And much to the girl'ssurprise, under the direction of the refractory Sotenah, and Old Elk,and Wee Johnnie Tamarack, not only performed with a will the necessarywork of the camp--the chopping and storing of firewood, the shovellingof paths through the huge drifts, and the drawing of water from theriver--but took upon themselves numerous other labours of their owninitiative.
An ice-house was built and filled upon the bank of the river. Treeswere felled, and the logs ranked upon miniature rollways, where allthrough the short days the Indians busied themselves in the rudewhip-sawing of lumber.
Their women and children daily attended the school and workedfaithfully under the untiring tutelage of Chloe and Harriet Penny, whoentered into the work with new enthusiasm engendered by the interestand the aptness of the Snare Lake Indians--absent qualities among thewives and children of Lapierre's trappers.
LeFroy was kept busy in the storehouse, and with the passing of thedays Chloe noticed that he managed to spend more and more time incompany with Big Lena. At first she gave the matter no thought. Butwhen night after night she heard the voices of the two as they satabout the kitchen-stove long after she had retired, she began toconsider the matter seriously.
At first she dismissed it with a laugh. Of all people in the world,she thought, these two, the heavy, unimaginative Swedish woman, and theleathern-skinned, taciturn wood-rover, would be the last to listen tothe call of romance.
Chloe was really fond of the huge, silent woman who had followed herwithout question into the unknown wilderness of the Northland, even asshe had accompanied her without protest through the maze of the farSouth Seas. With all her averseness to speech and her vacuous, fishystare, the girl had long since learned that Big Lena was both loyal andefficient and shrewd. But, Big Lena as a wife! Chloe smiled broadlyat the thought.
"Poor LeFroy," she pitied. "But it would be the best thing in theworld for him. 'The perpetuity of the red race will be attained onlythrough its amalgamation with the white,'" she quoted; the tritebanality of one of the numerous theorists she had studied beforestarting into the North.
Of LeFroy she knew little. He seemed a half-breed of more than averageintelligence, and as for the rest--she would leave that to Lena. Onthe whole, she rather approved of the arrangement, not alone upon theamalgamation theory, but because she entertained not the slightestdoubt as to who would rule the prospective family. She could dependupon Big Lena's loyalty, and her marriage to one of their number wouldtherefore become a very important factor in the attitude of the Indianstowards the school.
Gradually, the women of the Slave Lake Indians taking the cue fromtheir northern sisters, began to show an appreciation of the girl'sefforts in their behalf. An appreciation that manifested itself inlittle tokens of friendship, exquisitely beaded moccasins, shylypresented, and a pair of quill-embroidered leggings laid upon her deskby a squaw who slipped hurriedly away. Thus the way was paved for acloser intimacy which quickly grew into an eager willingness among theIndians to help her in the mastering of their own language.
As this intimacy grew, the barrier which is the chief stumbling-blockof missionaries and teachers who seek to carry enlightenment into thelean lone land, gradually dissolved. The women with whom Chloe came incontact ceased to be Indians _en masse_; they became_people_--personalities--each with her own capability and propensityfor the working of good or harm. With this realization vanished thelast vestige of aloofness and reserve. And, thereafter, many of thewomen broke bread by invitation at Chloe's own table.
The one thing that remained incomprehensible to the girl was theidolatrous regard in which MacNair was held by his own Indians. Tothem he was a superman--the one great man among all white men. Hisword was accepted without question. Upon leaving for the southwardMacNair had told the men to work, therefore they worked unceasingly.Also he had told the women and the children to obey without questionthe words of the white _kloochman_, and therefore they absorbed herteaching with painstaking care.
Time and again the girl tried to obtain the admission that MacNair wasin the habit of supplying his Indians with whiskey, and always shereceived the same answer. "MacNair sells no whiskey. He hateswhiskey. And many times has he killed men for selling whiskey to hispeople."
At first these replies exasperated the girl beyond measure. She setthem down as stereotyped answers in which they had been carefullycoached. But as time went on and the women, whose word she had come tohold in regard, remained unshaken in their statements, an uncomfortabledoubt assailed her--a doubt that, despite herself, she fostered. Adoubt that caused her to ponder long of nights as she lay in her littleroom listening to the droning voices of LeFroy and Big Lena as theytalked by the stove in the kitchen.
Strange fancies and pictures the girl built up as she lay, half waking,half dreaming between her blankets. Pictures in which MacNair,misjudged, hated, fighting against fearful odds, came clean through theruck and muck with which his enemies had endeavoured to smother him,and proved himself the man he might have been; fancies and picturesthat dulled into a pain that was very like a heartache, as the vividpicture--the real picture--which she herself had seen with her own eyesthat night on Snare Lake, arose always to her mind.
The tang of the northern air bit into the girl's blood. She spent muchtime in the open and became proficient and tireless in the use ofsnowshoes and skis. Daily her excursions into the surrounding timbergrew longer, and she was never so happy as when swinging with strong,wide strides on her fat thong-strung rackets, or sliding with the speedof the wind down some steep slope of the river-bank, on her smoothlypolished skis.
It was upon one of these solitary excursions, when her steps hadcarried her many miles along the winding course of a small tributary ofthe Yellow Knife, that the girl became so fascinated in her explorationshe failed utterly to note the passage of time until a sharp bend ofthe little river brought her face to face with the low-hung winter sun,which was just on the point of disappearing behind the shrub pines of along, low ridge.
With a start she brought up short and glanced fearfully about her.Darkness was very near, and she had travelled straight into thewilderness almost since early dawn. Without a moment's delay sheturned and retraced her steps. But even as her hurrying feet carriedher over the back-trail she realized that night would overtake herbefore she could hope to reach the larger river.
The thought of a night spent alone in the timber at first terrifiedher. She sought to increase her pace, but her muscles were tired, herfootsteps dragged, and the rackets clung to her feet like inexorableweights which sought to drag her down, down into the soft whiteness ofthe snow.
Darkness gathered, and the back-trail dimmed. Twice she fell andregained her feet with an effort. Suddenly rounding a sharp bend, shecrashed heavily among the dead branches of a fallen tree. When atlength she regained her feet, the last vestige of daylight
hadvanished. Her own snowshoe tracks were indiscernible upon the whitesnow. She was off the trail!
Something warm and wet trickled along her cheek. She jerked off hermittens and with fingers tingling in the cold, keen air, picked bits ofbark from the edges of the ragged wound where the end of a brokenbranch had snagged the soft flesh of her face. The wound stung, andshe held a handful of snow against it until the pain dulled under thenumbing chill.
Stories of the night-prowling wolf-pack, and the sinister, man-eating_loup cervier_, crowded her brain. She must build a fire. She feltthrough her pocket for the glass bottle of matches, only to find thather fingers were too numb to remove the cork. She replaced the vialand, drawing on her mittens, beat her hands together until the bloodtingled to her finger-tips. How she wished now that she had heeded theadvice of LeFroy, who had cautioned against venturing into the woodswithout a light camp ax slung to her belt.
Laboriously she set about gathering bark and light twigs which shepiled in the shelter of a cut-bank, and when at last a feeble flameflickered weakly among the thin twigs she added larger branches whichshe broke and twisted from the limbs of the dead trees. Her camp-fireassumed a healthy proportion, and the flare of it upon the snow wasencouraging.
At the end of an hour, Chloe removed her rackets and dropped wearilyonto the snow beside the fire-wood which she had piled convenientlyclose to the blaze. Never in her life had she been so utterly weary,but she realized that for her that night there could be no sleep. Andno sooner had the realization forced itself upon her than she fellsound asleep with her head upon the pile of fire-wood.
She awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright, staring in bewildermentat her fire--and beyond the fire where, only a few feet distant, ahooded shape stood dimly outlined against the snow. Chloe's garments,dampened by the exertion of the earlier hours, had chilled her throughwhile she slept, and as she stared wide-eyed at the apparition beyondthe fire, the figure drew closer and the chill of the dampened garmentsseemed to clutch with icy fingers at her heart. She nerved herself fora supreme effort and arose stiffly to her knees, and then suddenly thefigure resolved itself into the form of a girl--an Indian girl--but agirl as different from the Indians of her school as day is differentfrom night.
As the girl advanced she smiled, and Chloe noted that her teeth werestrong and even and white, and that dark eyes glowed softly from a faceas light almost as her own.
"Do not 'fraid," said the girl in a low, rich voice. "I'm not hurtyou. I'm see you fire, I'm com' 'cross to fin'. Den, ver' queek youcom' 'wake, an' I'm see you de one I'm want."
"The one you want!" cried Chloe, edging closer to the fire. "What doyou mean? Who are you? And why should you want me?"
"Me--I'm Mary. I'm com' ver' far. I'm com' from de people of mymodder. De Louchoux on de lower Mackenzie. I'm com' to fin' deschool. I'm hear about dat school."
"The lower Mackenzie!" cried Chloe in astonishment. "I should thinkyou have come very far."
The girl nodded. "Ver' far," she repeated. "T'irty-two sleep I'm onde trail."
"Alone!"
"Alone," she assented. "I'm com' for learn de ways of de white women."
Chloe motioned the girl closer, and then, seized by a sudden chill,shivered violently. The girl noticed the paroxysm, and, dropping toher knees by Chloe's side, spoke hurriedly.
"You col'," she said. "You got no blanket. You los'."
Without waiting for a reply, she hurried to a light pack-sled whichstood nearby upon the snow. A moment later she returned with a heavypair of blankets which she spread at Chloe's side, and then, throwingmore wood upon the fire, began rapidly to remove the girl's clothing.Within a very short space of time, Chloe found herself lying warm andcomfortable between the blankets, while her damp garments were dryingupon sticks thrust close to the blaze. She watched the Indian girl asshe moved swiftly and capably about her task, and when the last garmentwas hung upon its stick she motioned the girl to her side.
"Why did you come so far to my school?" she asked. "Surely you havebeen to school. You speak English. You are not a full-blood Indian."
The girl's eyes sought the shadows beyond the firelight, and, as herlips framed a reply, Chloe marvelled at the weird beauty of her.
"I go to school on de Mission, two years at Fort MacPherson. I learnto spik de Englis'. My fadder, heem Englis', but I'm never see heem.Many years ago he com' in de beeg boat dat com' for ketch de whale an'got lock in de ice in de Bufort Sea. In de spring de boat go 'way, an'my fadder go 'long, too. He tell my modder he com' back nex' winter.Dat many years ago--nineteen years. Many boats com' every year, but myfadder no com' back. My modder she t'ink he com' back som' day, an'every fall my modder she tak' me 'way from Fort MacPherson and we go upon de coast an' build de _igloo_. An' every day she set an' watchwhile de ships com' in, but my fadder no com' back. My modder t'ink hesure com' back, he fin' her waitin' when he com'. She say, mebe so heketch 'm many whale. Mebe so he get reech so we got plen' money to buyde grub."
The girl paused and her brows contracted thoughtfully. She threw afresh stick upon the fire and shook her head slowly. "I don' know,"she said softly, "mebe so he com' back--but heem been gone long tam'."
"Where is your mother now?" asked Chloe, when the girl had finished.
"She up on de coast in de little _igloo_. Many ships com' into BufortSea las' fall. She say, sure dis winter my fadder com' back. She gotto wait for heem."
Chloe cleared her throat sharply. "And you?" she asked, "why did youcome clear to the Yellow Knife? Why did you not go back to school atthe Mission?"
A troubled expression crept into the eyes of the Louchoux girl, and sheseemed at a loss to explain. "Eet ees," she answered at length, "datmy man, too, he not com' back lak' my fadder."
"Your man!" cried Chloe in astonishment. "Do you mean you are married?Why, you are nothing but a child!"
The girl regarded her gravely. "Yes," she answered, "I'm marry. Twoyears ago I git marry, up on de Anderson Reever. My man, heemfree-trader, an' all summer we got plent' to eat. In de fall he tak'me back to de _igloo_. He say, he mus' got to go to de land of dewhite man to buy supplies. I lak' to go, too, to de land of de whiteman, but he say no, you Injun, you stay in de Nort', an' by-m-by I com'back again. Den he go up de reever, an' all winter I stay in de igloowit' my modder an' look out over de ice-pack at de boats in de BufortSea. In de spreeng my man he don' com' back, my fadder he don' com'back neider. We not have got mooch grub to eat dat winter, and den wego to Fort MacPherson. I go back to de school, and I'm tell de pries'my man he no com' back. De pries' he ver' angry. He say, I'm not gotmarry, but de pries' he ees a man--he don' un'stan'.
"All summer I'm stay on de Mackenzie, an' I'm watch de canoes an' I'mwait for my man to com' back, but he don' com' back. An' in de fall mymodder she go Nort' again to watch de ships in de Bufort Sea. She say,com' 'long, but I don' go, so she go 'lone and I'm stay on deMackenzie. I'm stay 'til de reever freeze, an' no more canoe can com'.Den I'm wait for de snow. Mebe so my man com' wit' de dog-team. DenI'm hear 'bout de school de white woman build on de Yellow Knife.Always I'm hear 'bout de white women, but I'm never seen none--only dewhite men. My man, he mos' white.
"Den I'm say, mebe so my man lak' de white women more dan de Injun. Henot com' back dis winter, an' I'm go on de school and learn de ways ofde white women, an' in de spreeng when my man com' back he lak' megood, an' nex' winter mebe he tak' me 'long to de land of de whitewomen. But, eet's a long trail to de Yellow Knife, an' I'm got nomoney to buy de grub an' de outfit. I'm go once mor' to de pries' an'I'm tell heem 'bout dat school. An' I'm say, mebe so I'm learn de waysof de white women, my man tak' me 'long nex' tam'.
"De pries' he t'ink 'bout dat a long tam'. Den he go over to de HudsonBay Pos' an' talk to McTavish, de factor, an' by-m-by he com' back andtak' me over to de pos' store an' give me de outfit so I'm com' to deschool on de Yellow Knife. Plent' grub an' warm blankets dey give me.An' t'irt
y-two sleep I'm travel de snow-trail. Las' night I'm mak' mycamp in de scrub cross de reever. I'm go 'sleep, an' by-m-by I'm wakeup an' see you fire an' I'm com' 'long to fin' out who camp here."
As she listened, Chloe's hand stole from beneath the blankets andclosed softly about the fingers of the Louchoux girl. "And so you havecome to live with me?" she whispered softly.
The girl's face lighted up. "You let me com'?" she asked eagerly, "an'you teach me de ways of de white women, so I ain't jus' be Injun girl?So when my man com' back, he lak' me an' I got plent' to eat in dewinter?"
"Yes, dear," answered Chloe, "you shall come to live with me always."
Followed then a long silence which was broken at last by the Indiangirl.
"You don' say lak' de pries'," she asked, "you not marry, you bad?"
"No! No! No! You poor child!" cried Chloe, "of course you are notbad! You are going to live with me. You will learn many things."
"An' som' tam', we fin' my man?" she asked eagerly.
Chloe's voice sounded suddenly harsh. "Yes, indeed, we will find him!"she cried. "We will find him and bring him back--" she stoppedsuddenly. "We will speak of that later. And now that my clothes aredry you can help me put them on, and if you have any grub left in yourpack let's eat. I'm starving."
While Chloe finished dressing, the Louchoux girl boiled a pot of teaand fried some bacon, and an hour later the two girls were fast asleepin each other's arms, beneath the warm folds of the big Hudson Bayblankets.
The following morning they had proceeded but a short distance upon theback-trail when they were met by a searching party from the school.The return was made without incident, and Chloe, who had taken a greatfancy to the Louchoux girl, immediately established her as a member ofher own household.
During the days which followed, the girl plunged with an intenseeagerness into the task of learning the ways of the white women.Nothing was too trivial or unimportant to escape her attention. Shelearned to copy with almost pathetic exactness each of Chloe's littleacts and mannerisms, even to the arranging of her hair. With the othertwo inmates of the cottage the girl became hardly less a favourite thanwith Chloe herself.
Her progress in learning to speak English, her skill with the needleand the rapidity with which she learned to make her own clothingdelighted Harriet Penny. While Big Lena never tired of instructing herin the mysteries of the culinary department. In return the girl lookedupon the three women with an adoration that bordered upon idolatry.She would sit by the hour listening to Chloe's accounts of the wondrouscities of the white men and of the doings of the white men's women.
Chloe never mentioned the girl's secret to either Harriet Penny or BigLena, and carefully avoided any allusion to the subject to the girlherself. Nothing could be done, she reasoned, until the ice went outof the rivers, and in the meantime she would do all in her power toinstil into the girl's mind an understanding of the white women'sethics, so that when the time came she would be able to chooseintelligently for herself whether she would return to her free-traderlover or prosecute him for his treachery.
Chloe knew that the girl had done no wrong, and in her heart she hopedthat she could be brought to a realization of the true character of theman and repudiate him. If not--if she really loved him, and wasdetermined to remain his wife--Chloe made up her mind to insist upon aceremony which should meet the sanction of Church and State.
Christmas and New Year's passed, and Lapierre did not return to theschool. Chloe was not surprised at this, for he had told her that hisabsence would be prolonged; and in her heart of hearts she was reallyglad, for the veiled suspicion of the man's sincerity had grown into anactual distrust of him--a distrust that would have been increased athousand-fold could she have known that the quarter-breed was even thenupon Snare Lake at the head of a gang of outlaws who were thawing outMacNair's gravel and shovelling it into dumps for an early clean-up;instead of looking after his "neglected interests" upon the rivers.
But she did not know that, nor did she know of his midnight visit toTostoff, nor of what happened at Brown's cabin, nor of the release ofMacNair.