Read The Heart of Unaga Page 22


  CHAPTER VII

  SUMMER DAYS

  The youth in Marcel was abundant, it was even headlong. But even so,there was a strong steadying strain of wisdom in him, the wisdom of theNorthland, bought at a price that few can afford to pay. It served tohold the balance under the influence of this new adventure.

  It was something more than adventure. There was a significance in theextraordinary encounter with Keeko that dimmed to the commonplace everythrill he had ever experienced in the past. It had lifted him at a boundto that pinnacle of manhood, which until the moment when woman presentsherself upon youth's stage of life can never be reached.

  Every pre-conceived object in life had suddenly been brushed aside bythe exhilaration of the moment. The subdued colours of his horizon hadbeen completely overwhelmed by the new radiance. Even Uncle Steve, thatprecious guide and friend, who had always occupied the central place inhis focus, had almost been forgotten.

  For Keeko, too, whose youth had been shadowed from the momentunderstanding had broken through the golden mists of childhood'sdream-world, a new meaning to life had been born. She made no attempt tolook ahead, and the shadows of the past had no power whatever to rob herof one moment of chaste delight. All she knew, or cared, was that,almost on the instant, the personality of something over six feet ofmanhood had taken possession of her will. And, with that splendidabandon which generous nature mercifully ordains for youth, she yieldedherself to the ecstasy of it.

  Keeko was resting upon a fallen tree-trunk. It had been torn up by theroots and flung headlong by the merciless fury of a winter storm. Marcelwas standing beside her. The way had been long, but there was no realweariness in either. They had simply paused at their journey's end tosurvey the great gorge lying at their feet. In the heart of it lay thehighway that came up out of the south.

  It was a scene of crude immensity which left all life infinitesimal. Thebarren of it suggested the body of Nature gnawed to the bone, pickedclean of the fair flesh with which it is her wont to distract the eyesand senses of man. There lay a frowning, rock-bound chasm at their feet,and deep down in the heart of it a broad, sluggish stream. The twoyouthful figures were gazing out across the gaping lips at the far-off,distant hills rising up in defence of the secrets of the Northern seasof snow and ice.

  For some moments they sat in silence before the might and mystery ofthat untrodden world. Awe lurked in the eyes of both. It was that awe ofthe Northland which breeds terror in the weak, and only the strong maysurvive.

  Marcel broke the spell of it. He laughed with a quiet confidence thatfound no echo in the girl's heart.

  "It's pretty darn big," he said, with something almost like contempt inhis tone. "But it pays us--toll. I--a man. And you--why, you justa--girl."

  It was the pride of youth and strength that spoke. Uncle Steve would nothave talked that way--now. Years ago--perhaps. Years ago before histerrible journey across Unaga, when he, too, had defied the very thingsMarcel now spurned.

  But the awe in Keeko's eyes only deepened.

  "Maybe you're right," she said doubtfully. "But sometimes it scares me.Scares me to death."

  She drew a long breath as she made the admission.

  Marcel's quick answer came with a laugh of amusement.

  "Yet you come up this river with just three neches," he cried. "You makerapids that would hold me guessing, for all the outfit of Eskimo Icarry. You'll beat it back south to your home against a two mile streamwith a deadly winter hard on your moccasined heels. I just want to laff.You're scared! Why, get a look right out there, just as far as you cansee. I mean where the haze shuts down like a curtain on a forbiddenworld. There, where there's the dim outline of one big hill propping upthe roof of things, standing above all the others. If you took thenotion there were pelts there that would worry Lorson Harris to pay for,you'd think no more of making those hills than you worry with the trailover this darn river. That scare notion isn't worth two cents."

  The admiration, the obvious delight of Marcel as he derided the girl'splea left a great warmth of pleasure flooding Keeko's eyes.

  "You think that?" she cried. Then with a nod: "I'm kind of glad. But youdon't know Little One Man--yet. And Snake Foot. And Med'cine Charlie. Itisn't me. I've maybe the will. But--I haven't the skill, or the grit.No. My boys were raised on the rapids of the Dubawnt River. If you heardLittle One Man I guess you'd know just what that means. As for me, I'velearned things from necessity. I had to learn, same as I've to collectthose furs Lorson Harris is going to pay for. Oh, I'm not full of acourage like you think. It's will. Will bred of necessity. It's the sortof will that can't reckon the balance of chances. Chances just don'texist. That's all. It's as you say. That ghost of a hill yonder wouldhave to hand me what I need if I couldn't get it nearer home. But I'd bescared--sure. Badly scared, same as I felt watching you waiting on thatmoose."

  Marcel withdrew his gaze from the tremendous view beyond the river. Heturned to the scene of the little encampment so far down below. He saw amoving figure by the canoes, beached on the barren foreshore. He beheldthe curl of smoke rising from a camp-fire. He knew that a meal was inpreparation. It was all as he understood such things, and its interestfor him was that it was the home of the girl who had so suddenly takenpossession of his life.

  "Necessity," he said reflectively. "Guess I'm not just wise to thingslike older folk. But it seems to me 'necessity' is the thing of allthings in life. It sort of seems the key that unlocks the meaning ofeverything. It sets you chasing pelts to sell for dollars, and it leavestheir finding just the one thing worth while. If you got plenty food youdon't care two cents if you eat it or not. If you haven't, why thethought of food sets you dreaming beautiful dreams of things you nevertasted, and maybe you'd hate anyway if folks handed them to you. If yougot a swell bed that's all set ready for you, maybe your fancy sets yousleeping on the hard ground with just a blanket to cover you. If youhadn't, then the thought of that darn blanket would likely set you crazyto grab the other feller's. I come along out every season chasing pelts.Seeing I don't need 'em it leaves me trailing a bull moose that hands mea chance of getting to grips with the business of life an' death. Say,give me 'necessity' all the time. It's the thing that makes men of thefolks you can make anything of at all, and, anyway, makes life a thingto grab right up into your arms and hug so as if you never meant to letgo. Necessity for you--a girl--is just the thing that beats me. Why, themen folk around you must be all sorts of everyday folk that wouldn'tmatter a circumstance if the whole darn lot got lost in the fog of theirown notions, and were left to hand in their checks hollering for thehelp they never fancied handing you."

  There was hot indignation in the final denunciation. Keeko revelled inhis sympathy. She pondered a moment. Then a fresh impulse urged her.

  "I was just wondering," she said, her gaze avoiding the figure standingso heedlessly at the brink of the canyon, "I kind of feel I ought totell you of that necessity. Yet it's hard. As I said, there's secrets,and if you start in to talk free north of 60 deg. you're liable to hand overthose secrets that belong to the folk who reckon they've the right toimpose them on all those belonging to them. I've no sort of secret of myown. None at all. But I guess my step-father has. And that secret is thereason that's brought him to face the storms and evil spirits of Unaga."She laughed without any lightness. "Will you be content to hear thethings I may tell you--without asking me to show you how it is thesethings are so?" she demanded.

  "I don't ask a thing," the man replied promptly. "I don't need to know athing. You don't get the way I feel. You're a girl. You need furs fortrade. Guess that trade means the whole of everything to you, and isliable to make you plenty happy. Well--why, it pleases me to death tohelp you. That's all."

  For a moment Keeko let her wide blue eyes dwell on the man's youthfulface.

  "That only makes me want to say things more," she retorted, with aslight flush dyeing her soft cheeks. "So I'm just going to say thosethings right away, and I don't care what secret I hand out doing it.
When a man's generosity gets busy it's to limits mostly a long wayahead. Well, when it's that way I don't reckon a woman feels likeslamming the door in his face. I've a step-father and a mother. Mymother's sick--sick to death. She's all I've got, and all I care for.She's kind of a weak woman who's been up against most of the worry andkicks a world can hand her. And now she's sick to death, and looks likegetting that peace that life never seemed to be able to hand her. Mystep-father's a tough man, and I hate him. Say, you guess that my scareisn't worth two cents. I'm scared of my step-father like nothing else inthe world. Oh, I'm not scared that he might raise a club at me. Thatwouldn't worry me a thing. Guess I could deal with that--right. No. I'mnot scared that way. It's something different, and it's come throughnothing he's ever done or threatened against--me. No, it's my poormother. I tell you he's letting her die. He's been letting her die allthese years when I wasn't old enough to understand. He wants to be ridof her. He's just a murderer at heart, because he's letting her diethrough neglect he's figgered out. And my mother isn't only a sick womandying of the consumption the life he's exposed her to has brought on.She's got a broken heart that he's handed her. But sick as she is, she'swise, and she lies abed thinking not for herself but for me--all thetime. And lying there she's worked out a way so I'll be able to get freeof my step-father, and play a hand in life on my own when she's gone. Itwas she taught me to handle a rifle when I'd got hands strong enough tohold it. It was she who set me in the charge of Little One Man yearsago, and with Snake Foot and Charlie, to learn the business of pelthunting. Then when I'd learned all she reckoned I need she lay aroundand figgered things out further. It was all done without fuss, it wasall done in a small way so my step-father shouldn't guess the meaning.She just grew me into a pelt hunter who he thought some day would beuseful hunting for him, and he was kind of pleased. Oh, yes, I hunt forhim, but for every dollar I make for him there's five for myself. Andthose five are hidden deep so he'll never find them. I've done this fiveseasons, and my sick mother reckons this is to be my last. She guessesshe'll never see another spring, and she wants to see me with fivethousand dollars clear when I get back to home. Then, when she's gone,she wants me to hit the trail quick. She wants me to take Little One Manand Snake Foot and Charlie with me, and, with my five thousand dollars,she wants me to look around beyond my step-father's reach, and make goodin the craft I've learned. With that thought in her mind she guesses tolie easy in the grave she reckons I'll see is made right for her. That'smy 'necessity' and it's big--if you could only see into the notions oftwo women."

  Marcel listened without a word of comment. And as he listened his eyeshardened, and the youthful curves about his lips drew tight into finelines. For all his inexperience of the lives of others the story set afierce anger raging in his hot, impulsive heart. The unthinkable to himwas a man who could so beset a woman.

  He nodded.

  "And you trade the pelts with Lorson Harris?" he said.

  "Sure." Keeko smiled up into his face. It was the shrewd smile of onewho approves her own subtlety. "But I divide the catch before I makehome. Five-sixths are for me. And I set them aside, and Little One Manhelps me cache them. The rest is the catch I hand my step-father. Hemakes careful tab of it, and then, after a rest, I set out with the dogsover the winter trail for Seal Bay to make trade. Oh, it's easy. We pickup the cache as we go, and trade the whole, and I just hand mystep-father the price of the furs he's tabbed."

  The girl's smile was infectious.

  "It's bright," Marcel cried. "And--and I'm glad." Then his eyes soberedat the thought of his own purpose. "It's easy, too," he went on eagerly."But it's going to be easier. We'll fool this--cur. We'll fool him as hedoesn't dream. Say, you didn't need to tell me, Keeko. There wasn't anyneed. Still, it shows the trust you feel. And it makes me glad. Now I'lltell you the notion I've fixed. You're going to get a whole heap morethan that three-thousand-dollar trade. You surely are. And when you goback you'll be free of--of him, just as far as dollars can make you. ButI'm hoping you'll go back feeling better than that. Maybe you'll be ableto feel that when your poor sick mother is gone you aren't just alone inthe world with Little One Man and Snake Foot and Charlie. There'sanother feller just waiting around to hand you all the help you need anyold time. And this old tree-trunk you're sitting on will find me all thetime. We'll make a cache in it. And each end of the open season I'll getaround and open the cache. Come here yourself, or send word by LittleOne Man, and, just as hard as I can lay paddle to the waters of this oldriver, I'll beat it to your help for all that's in me. Maybe I'm only akid chasing pelts, but I'd be mighty thankful to Providence for thechance of making good helping you." He laughed with the full sun of hisoptimism shining again as he flung out a hand. "Say, shake on it, Keeko!We're partners in an enterprise to beat a devil man. Do you know whatthat means? You've likely got your notions. I've got the notion thatwas handed me by the best man in the world and a dark-faced angel woman.It means you can just claim me to the last breath. That's so. It surelyis."

  Keeko took the hand that was thrust out at her. And in a moment her ownwas crushed gently between the youth's warm, strong palms. And thepressure of them thrilled the girl as nothing else had ever thrilled herin her life.

  Her only answer was to gaze up at him with wide, thankful eyes. She hadno words. She felt that any attempt to speak must choke her. So she satthere on the ages-old trunk, with a wild feeling of unaccountableemotion in utter and complete possession of her soul.

  Marcel abruptly seated himself beside her on the tree-trunk.

  "Say, Keeko," he cried, his seriousness gone, "guess this has been allsorts of a talk, and I've blown a horn that would have worried the angelGabriel. Well, I've just got to make good--that's all. That being so,there isn't a day to waste. I'll have to hit back to my outfit andcollect my 'truck,' which I need to tote along over here. It'll take meall a piece of time, but not an hour longer than my craze to start'lllet it. I'll get back in a hell of a hurry. Meanwhile you need to putLittle One Man and Snake Foot and Charlie wise, and see and fix thingsto start out right away. We're going to hit out north-west to a silverfox country I know of, and when we're through with it Lorson Harris'llstart in to drop silver fox prices to the level of grey timber wolf. Itmakes me feel good--the thought of it."

  He sprang up with an energy that suggested the effort it required totear himself away. And promptly the woman in Keeko asserted itself.

  "But you'll eat first?" she said invitingly.

  Marcel laughed in frank delight.

  "Why, surely," he cried. "I was guessing you might ask me."

  Keeko joined in his laugh. They were children at heart, and little morein years.