FORT YUKON
It did not take Dan and Natsatt long to realise that this place they had reached in their dire necessity was a Post of the famous Hudson's Bay Company. There was the flag, known all over western Canada, with the three letters H. B. C. imprinted upon it. They were much surprised, for they had no idea that the Company had penetrated into this far-off region. They knew that they had gone far north in their search after the furry prize, but they had not heard that they had crossed the mountains. They looked with wonder upon the well-built houses, clean and orderly.
"So you are surprised, too," laughed the Factor, as he sat watching his visitors enjoying the first good meal they had eaten in days. "I was much astonished to see you come down the river, and you were amazed to find us here. There are no limits to the Great Company's operations these days. We have been here a little over a year, and it seems as if we are likely to stay for some time. But come, tell me where you have come from, and who is the sick squaw. We don't often see such Indian women in this country. She is certainly a prize. I am anxious to know, too, about that big Indian you brought with you."
And there in that frontier Post the story was told, of the entrance into the wilderness, the building of the Post at the mouth of the Segas River, the attack of the Chilcats, the desertion by the white men, the death of the chief of the Ranges, his daughter's bravery and sickness, and the terrible voyage down the river.
To all this the Factor listened without a word of comment. At times he allowed the pipe he was smoking to go out, and seemed to be lost in thought. So these men were rival traders he mentally commented, who will no doubt be a menace to the work of the H. B. Company. Why should he give such men shelter? How would his action appear when word reached headquarters? His silence, and the expression upon his face did not escape the keen eyes of Dan and Natsatt. They well knew how the Great Company would tolerate no interference, and how all independent traders were disliked.
"And so you began trading with the Indians on your own account, did you?" the Factor at length remarked. "It doesn't work. You need some power behind you."
"Don't misunderstand me," Dan replied. "It was not for the trade that I came into this country, but to find my only child, my long lost Klota. The trade was only a pawn in the game."
"And did you find her?" the Factor asked, now much interested.
"No. But I found her child, that poor lassie who is now lying here sick unto death. You may be offended with me, and consider me a rival trader, but for God's sake do everything you can for her. She is innocent."
In reply the Factor reached out his hand and caught the Ranger's.
"There is my pledge of good faith," he said. "We don't war against women. I honour you for what you have done, and I know my Company will say I am right in looking after you. Stay with us until we see what happens to the girl. You must rest now while I make arrangements for the burial of the chief."
Two days passed during which time Natsatt and Dan recovered much of their former strength. It was a time of suspense, for Owindia's life still hung in the balance. The Indian women were good nurses and did all in their power for the sick girl. They understood the nature of her trouble, and administered medicine made from the roots and bark of trees. These simple remedies had been used among this people from time immemorial with satisfactory results.
Natsatt kept almost constant watch by Owindia's side. He could not bear to be absent from her for any length of time. Dan, too, would often sit near, and study the drawn face lying upon the pillow. The day of their arrival at the Fort was the first time he had noticed the slender chain around the maiden's neck.
"Where did she get that?" he asked Natsatt, who was sitting near.
"It was her mother's," was the reply. "Klitonda gave it to Owindia the night Klota was killed, and she has worn it ever since. There is a locket attached to it. She believed it was a charm, and had power to keep away evil. She showed it to me once."
"What's in the locket?" Dan queried.
"Her mother's picture."
"Let me see it, quick," and Dan rose to his feet as he spoke. "Yes, it's my darling child," he murmured as he opened the locket which the young man had handed to him. "I gave it to her, and well do I remember the day. How happy she was, and she gave me such a loving kiss. Little did I think then when I should see it again, for it was just before I lost her."
The second night Natsatt was sitting alone by Owindia's side. Dan was to relieve him later on. It was near the hour of midnight, and a deep silence reigned within and without the building. The one small window in the room was open, and the fresh air was drifting in from forest and river. To Natsatt there seemed to be no change in Owindia's condition. For days he had been waiting for her to open her eyes and look upon him. To-night he felt more depressed than ever. He had waited so long, and his hope of her recovery was growing less each day. As he sat there he thought of the happy days they had been together, and of their first meeting in the lodge in the wilderness. He recalled how sweet was her voice as he listened to her as he lay by the fire the morning after that great storm. Was that voice to be silenced for ever? he asked himself. Would he never hear it again? He remembered how delighted she had been as he played upon the mouth-organ. The thought brought to his mind the little instrument which he had not touched for days. Thrusting his hand within his jacket where he kept it safely concealed, he brought it forth, and fondled it for a few minutes. Then the old longing came upon him, and placing it to his lips he began to play a soft, low tune. It was like magic to his drooping spirits, and affected him as it had always done in days gone by. Tune after tune he played, unheeding how the time was passing. In the midst of a sweet air he happened to glance toward the bed, and immediately the music ceased, and the instrument dropped from his mouth. There by his side was Owindia, with eyes wide open looking straight into his face. A great joy leaped into his heart, as he leaned over and took her wasted hand in his.
"Are you better, darling?" he asked.
A faint smile appeared upon her face, and her eyes roved about the room with a puzzled expression.
"The Chilcats!" she whispered. "Where are they?"
"Hush, darling," Natsatt replied. "Do not talk now. You are safe. The Chilcats cannot harm you any more, so go to sleep."
With a deep sigh of relief Owindia closed her eyes, and was soon off into a calm refreshing slumber. Natsatt watched her for a few minutes with a great joy and thankfulness in his heart. He wished to tell some one of the good news. He must speak and let others share his happiness. He rose to his feet to leave the room to arouse Dan. But as he turned there stood the Ranger at the door. The sound of the music had awakened him, and he had come to see what was the matter. He had just reached the door when Owindia opened her eyes. He had said nothing, but had remained a silent witness of it all.
There was no sleep for these two delighted men that night. They now knew that the crisis was passed, and with care Owindia would recover. They sat and talked in subdued tones about their plans for the future. Hitherto they had been silent concerning this subject. Now, however, it was different.
As the days passed Owindia made steady progress. Ere long she was able to leave her cot, and take short walks out in the fresh open air. Natsatt was always with her, and supported her feeble steps. She was much interested in everything she saw. The Post was a wonder in her eyes, and she asked Natsatt if the houses beyond the mountains of the rising sun were anything like it. The Indians, too, were different from any she had ever seen. They were kind to the sick girl, and were always pleased when she came to visit them in their lodges. They had heard the story of her terrible experience among the Chilcats, and had discussed it among themselves. The white men of the Fort were pleased to have the sweet-faced, gentle maiden among them, and treated her with the greatest courtesy. Natsatt mentally noted how different was their treatment of Owindia from the men who had deserted the Post up river. The Factor became fond of the maiden, and when he found that Natsatt was her lover he heartily congratulated the young man. Thus their stay at the Fort was most pleasant, a blessed relief after the terrible experiences through which they had passed.
But notwithstanding her happiness with Natsatt there was a cloud upon Owindia's mind. She longed to know about her father. It had been thought best not to tell her about his death until she was stronger in health. Several times her question had been evaded. She had learned something about the defeat of the Ayana, and the attack upon the Post. A fear pressed upon her heart, that something had happened to her father. She brooded over it by day, and would lie awake at night for hours wondering what had become of him.
One day as she and Natsatt were walking along the bank of the river, talking and gathering wild flowers, they sat down in a quiet little spot under the shelter of a large fir tree. The water of the Yukon flowed swiftly past, and fascinated Owindia. She could not keep her eyes away from that stream, and became unusually silent.
"What is it, little one?" Natsatt asked, noting her pre-occupied manner. "Are you not feeling well to-day? I hope nothing is the matter, for we are planning to leave this place next week. Boats of the Company are to start up the Porcupine River with their loads of furs, and they have kindly offered to take us with them. You will then be able to see what the world is like beyond the great mountains. I hope you will be able to go."
"I am feeling stronger every day," Owindia replied. "I have heard that we are to go, and I suppose I shall never see this river again. But when I look upon it I feel sad. It was by its side so far away where I played as a little child, and my mother used to sit near and watch me. Her grave is far up there," and she threw out her left arm in an eloquent gesture. "It was there that the Chilcats tried to steal me away, and my father saved me. How he loved me, and would do anything for me. Tell me, oh, tell me, Natsatt, what has happened to him."
For a while Natsatt was silent, and sat gazing steadily before him out upon the river. How could he tell her? He had been dreading that question for days, and now it had come and had to be answered. Owindia noticed his silence, and with the quick intuition of her race divined the meaning.
"You do not answer," she breathed, while a deep sigh escaped her lips. "You do not wish to tell me what you know. But I know now, as if you spoke the words."
"I did not wish to see you grieve," Natsatt returned. "You were so weak that if I told you it might do you harm. The truth was kept from you because I love you so. Don't you believe me, darling?"
"Oh, yes, I know you love me. But I am stronger now, and want to hear everything. If my father is dead I know he died like a true warrior."
"Indeed he did," Natsatt replied. "He fought bravely to the last. You should have seen the bodies of the dead and wounded Chilcats lying on the ground. The Coast dogs would have been defeated if the Ayana had been armed with muskets, but they could do very little against the guns."
"And did you leave my father where he fell?" Owindia asked. "Are you sure he was dead? Perhaps he was only wounded, and the Chilcats have taken him away to torture him. The thought is terrible."
"No, we did not. We brought him with us, and he died in the canoe on our way down the river. His last word was about you."
"My poor father," and Owindia sighed as she spoke. "How hard he struggled to free his land, and now it is all over. The Chilcats will be more cruel to the Ayana than ever. Perhaps it is just as well that my father is gone. His heart was always heavy, but I am sure it would break if he were alive to see how his people will be treated. They will never have courage to rise again to free their land."
Her head drooped, her bosom heaved with the intensity of her emotion, and the tears began to steal slowly down her cheeks. Natsatt placed his arm around her in an effort to soothe her. Her form shook, and her sobbing increased. Her lover let her weep, well knowing that the tears would relieve her surcharged feelings, and that she would feel better after the storm of grief was over.
"Would you like to see your father's grave?" Natsatt at length asked.
"What! did you bring his body all the way to this place?" and Owindia lifted her tear-stained eyes to his face.
"Yes. We could not leave him behind. We knew how badly you would feel."
Without another word the maiden placed her hand in his, and rising, he led her to the Indian burying ground on a hill back of the Post. There were many graves here, and over each one had been erected quaint shelters. Some were covered with little cotton tents, while others had houses made of logs and brush. In the midst of these was one covered with new earth. It was surrounded by neat palings, made from small fir saplings, stripped of their bark. At the head of the grave a rude cross had been erected, on which several words had been carved, telling of the chief who was lying beneath.
"Who did it?" Owindia whispered, after she had stood for a while looking down upon the mound.
"We thought you would like it," Natsatt replied. "It was Dan who made the cross, and cut your father's name upon it. People beyond the mountains put crosses over the graves of their loved ones. Dan said that though your father wasn't really a Christian he was a far better man than many Christians he knew. Some day you will learn what that cross means, and why it is placed over graves."
For some time they stood by the side of the mound, and then Owindia moved away and gathered some wild flowers she saw growing near. They were the pretty wild rose, lupin, blue-bell, and berry blossoms. These she and Natsatt gathered, and laid them tenderly upon the grave. This deed of love accomplished, and with a long, lingering glance upon the spot she would soon never see again, Owindia placed her hand in Natsatt's and he led her slowly back to the Fort.
In a few days the Company's boats were all ready for their long voyage upstream. Dan, Natsatt, and Owindia went with them. They thus turned their backs for ever upon the country which had been the scene of so much sorrow mingled with joy. And they left behind, too, Klitonda, the chief of the Ranges, who had fought a brave, stubborn fight, and like many reformers, had given up his life ere he saw the cause for which he died triumphant in the end.