THE CALL OF THE HEART
When Natsatt reached the Post after his experience in the forest, and his conflict with the Chilcat, he found that Dan was watching for his return, and eagerly opened the gate in the fortification for him to enter. The rest of the men were astir. In fact a number of them had been on guard all through the night, and were weary after their fruitless watch. As soon as breakfast was over they threw themselves into their bunks, and ere long were fast asleep. Natsatt noted that his companions desired to shun him. They neither spoke to him nor made any remark as to his absence. A feeling of conspiracy seemed to prevail which he could not comprehend. He knew why several hated him, but could not understand why all should turn against him.
Dan alone was unchanged, and to him Natsatt told of his experience during the past night, and of his victory over the cowardly assailant. To all this the Ranger listened most intently. At times his brow knitted, and his eyes expressed surprise.
"I can't understand it, lad," he said, when Natsatt had ended. "The lassie seems to be a prisoner among them, but why she did not leave when she had an opportunity, puzzles me."
"She went there herself," Natsatt replied, "to save us and her own people. I forced that much from the Chilcat when I had the measly wretch upon his back. He didn't wish to tell me at first, but when he felt the sharp point of my hunting-knife tickling his ribs in no delicate manner he was quite ready to speak. He was lucky to get off with only the tickling, I can tell you that. He deserved the knife right up to the handle for his base attack."
"I'm glad you let him off, lad. Never shed blood if you can possibly avoid it. Besides, he was down, and could not help himself. So the lassie went away to save us, he told you. It was certainly brave of her. But it's just what her mother would have done. She would sacrifice anything for the sake of those she loved. But there, you go off and have a sleep, while I think over what you have told me. We must save the lassie, but how it is to be done is another matter."
Natsatt made his way to his bunk, but he found it impossible to sleep. Owindia was ever before his mind, and he reproached himself for having left her alone with the Chilcats. Why had he not rushed forward and rescued her from their midst? he asked himself over and over again. It would have been better to die by her side, trying to save her, than to live without her. He thought of what the Chilcat had told him. Would Owindia really become the wife of the chief's son? Would she go back with him over the mountain, and he would never see her again? The idea was too horrible to be entertained even for a moment. He sprang from his bunk. Why was he lying there when she whom he loved better than life itself was in danger of being snatched away from him forever? He must go to her. Nothing could stop him now.
Hardly knowing what course to pursue in order to carry out his design, he made his way out of the building toward the great door of the barricade. On the threshold he stopped, for there before him were Dan and several of the men, peering intently through several of the port-holes, which had been made in the fortification. That they were deeply interested was evident from their excited manner. Natsatt pushed his way among them and at length caught a glimpse of the open space outside the Post. At once a half-smothered cry of astonishment escaped his lips, and pushing aside the man nearest him, he put his face close to the hole to obtain a better view. And then he saw all that was taking place; Owindia, with the two Chilcats by her side. What did it mean? he asked himself. What was she doing there? And as he watched he saw her turn her face toward the Post and speak. He could hear every word distinctly, and at first he was puzzled as to her meaning. Then the truth flashed upon him. She was sacrificing herself to save them. She would be true to the white men. He hardly heard what she said in conclusion, for his brain was in a whirl of excitement. He knew now that the Chilcats had brought her there in order to betray the traders, and how angry they would be when they learned what she had said. What would happen when she went back to the camp? They would no doubt subject her to much cruelty, and perhaps put her to death. No, it must not be permitted. Now was the time to rescue her. He forgot for the moment what she had said about the Indians lurking on the border of the forest. He saw only the two Chilcats who were with Owindia. He could fight them, and recover his loved one.
He turned away from the port-hole and walked rapidly toward the large door. But Dan was by his side in an instant, and laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder.
"You must not do it," he said. "It's too great a risk. The devils are among the trees as thick as flies. The whole bunch of us could not save the girl now. The Chilcats want to get us out there to cut us down in no time."
"But I must save her," Natsatt protested. "Do you think I mind the whole Chilcat tribe when Owindia is in danger? Let me go to her," and he tried to free himself from the Ranger's grasp.
"No, you don't," was the grim reply. "You're too valuable for me to lose. You're a little hot-headed now. You shan't go through yon door, so make up your mind to that."
Natsatt knew that resistance would be useless. He began to see, too, how vain would be the undertaking. He must wait for some other opportunity. Dan, seeing the look upon his face loosened his grip and peered again through the nearest port-hole.
"They've gone!" he exclaimed, "and have taken the lassie with them. Poor thing! she'll have her own trouble, I'm thinking with that bunch of wolves. Anyway, their little scheme didn't work, thanks to the girl. But they'll try something else, never fear, and we must be on our guard against them. I'm beginning to see now that we have some shrewd determined customers to deal with."
All through the day Natsatt paced restlessly up and down in the open between the store and the barricade. He could not sleep, so offered to stay on guard. He did this with a purpose, as a plan was being evolved in his mind and he needed the freedom of the night to carry it into effect. He kept a careful watch upon the open outside the Post, but no Indian could he observe. Silence brooded over the land. There was stillness, too, within the building, for all seemed to feel that night would bring an attack from the enemy. The men spent much of the time looking after their guns, and ammunition. Of the latter they had not a large supply. What they had brought with them was simply for hunting purposes, with never a thought of an engagement with the natives. Dan divided the powder and balls among the men, advising them at the same time to reserve their fire as much as possible, and not to shoot at random. In the past they had been somewhat prodigal of their ammunition, shooting at whatever they came across, whether bird or animal. Hence, when all was divided they had but twenty rounds apiece, and they well knew how little this would serve them in case of a serious or prolonged siege.
There was trouble, too, from another source. Their supply of provisions, never at any time large, was becoming much reduced. Since the arrival of the Chilcats the hunters had not gone to the hills after sheep, and now it was impossible to leave the Post. A few days at the most would see them almost on the verge of starvation unless they could add something to their larder, which under the circumstances did not seem very probable. It was, therefore, but natural that a deep feeling of dissatisfaction should prevail among the men. They felt that they had been badly treated, and blamed Dan for bringing them into the country. They had come for trading purposes, and not to fight Indians. They would not have minded a skirmish now and then with the natives if the advantage had been all on their own side. But to be surrounded by a strong implacable enemy, and to be cooped up like prisoners, with an insufficient supply of food was galling in the extreme. They did not complain to Dan, but aired their grievances among themselves.
Natsatt knew but little of what was taking place, as they did not admit him into their confidence. They were naturally jealous of the half-breed, for they noted how Dan talked much to the young man, and seemed to enjoy having him with him more than the others. But Natsatt did not worry over what his companions felt or said. It was Owindia who occupied his mind, and the one purpose of his life was to reach, and rescue her from the Chilcats. Dan would not give his permission to leave again, he was quite sure of that. Nothing could be done during the day, so he must wait until night.
The long afternoon wore slowly away, and it seemed to Natsatt that the sun was longer than usual disappearing beyond the tree tops. Slowly it settled and at length darkness stole over the land. Then Natsatt was free and ready for action. He had been relieved of guard and there was no work within the Post demanding his attention. His companions were seated in the building, enjoying their after supper smoke, so he slipped quietly away, and moved toward the fortification close to the river. He could have gone out by the door, but that would have betrayed his scheme, besides imperilling his companions in case the Indians suddenly arrived and found the door unfastened. During the afternoon he had thought out his plan of escape. He would mount one of the large wooden poles which supported the barricade from the inside, and thus scale the wall. The darkness covered his movement, and as he made very little noise the men on guard were not aware of what was taking place near at hand. It did not take him long to spring with the agility of a wild cat up the long leaning brace, and from there to the top of the pointed posts above. With some difficulty he threw himself over and holding fast by his hands lowered himself to his full arms' length. Then dropping quickly to the ground, he sped away among the trees, and hid for a brief space among a friendly thicket of fir bushes. He was armed with pistol, hunting knife, and small axe, so he did not fear an attack of one or even two Chilcats. But he must keep clear of the main body of the enemy, for against them he would have no chance at all.
To one less accustomed to the forest the difficulty and peril of the undertaking would have been almost unbearable. But Natsatt was at home in the darkest night amid the wilderness. The black objects whether stumps or stones which stood out with startling weirdness, had no terror for him. It was necessary for him to be extremely cautious lest he should stumble unawares upon the enemy. Carefully he groped his way among the trees, keeping close to the river, as he believed that the Chilcats would come more in a straight line toward the Post. He was thankful that he had escaped the vigilance of the spies, who no doubt were lurking somewhere near. On and on he moved, gliding with swiftness from tree to tree, and always peering watchfully ahead. When he believed that he was opposite the Chilcat camp, he turned sharply to the left. Before him lay the ridge of ragged rocks, on the side of which Owindia had made her escape from the few Indians who had lured her thither. Over almost the same place where the fire had been Natsatt moved, little knowing what had recently taken place there but a short time before.
Nearing at length the camping ground he advanced more cautiously and partly expected to see the light of a fire darting among the trees. But in this he was disappointed. Nothing but intense blackness surrounded him. He began to wonder what had become of the Indians. Had they all gone to the Post, and were they already surrounding the place ready to make their night attack? If so what had become of Owindia? Surely they had not taken her with them!
He paused for a while to listen, but nothing could he hear, except the beating of his own heart. He was about to move forward when a sound fell upon his ears which stayed his steps and sent the blood coursing rapidly through his veins. It was the voice of some one singing, and in an instant he knew it must be none other than Owindia's. He could not catch the words though the tune was familiar. Why was she singing? he wondered, and where could she be? Not by a fire, that was evident, or else he should have seen the light. Had she been left behind, and was she singing to keep up her courage? The thought that she was alone gave him a thrill of joy. He could reach her side, talk to her, and induce her to come with him back to the Post.
Hesitating no longer he made straight for the place from whence the sound came. The song still continued, and ere long he was but a short distance away. He peered through the darkness but could see nothing. The song suddenly ceased and all was quiet. Natsatt's heart beat fast, and he called "Owindia, Owindia," in a low voice. Receiving no response he raised his voice a little louder, but still no answer. Thinking it very strange that he could get no reply, and feeling sure that Owindia was but a few steps away, he felt in his pocket, found a match, and struck it. As the light flared up he looked eagerly around, expecting to see her standing before him. The trees stood on every hand silent and grim, though nowhere could he see the maiden. A feeling of awe crept into his heart as the tiny light died out in his fingers. Had something happened to Owindia? he wondered, and was this her spirit haunting the forest? He took a few steps forward, and then pausing, struck another match. This time his effort was rewarded, for as the light illumined the darkness for a few seconds his eyes rested upon the form of the maiden standing upright against a fir-tree about three paces to his right.
[CHAPTER XXI]
BY THE WATER-GATE
The match which Natsatt held burnt down, scorched his fingers, and went out. But no physical pain did he feel. The agony and rage which possessed his heart numbed his body to any other lesser sensation. It was a terrible ten seconds as he stood there in the darkness with that picture of the one he loved burned upon his brain. Then he leaped to her side, and spoke to her, pleading with her to speak to him, and tell who had done the dastardly deed. His words were all in vain, for Owindia gave no sign that she was aware of his presence. Wondering much, Natsatt again struck a match, and peered keenly into her face. He beheld her eyes filled with a wild unnatural light, and not looking at him, but staring straight into the forest. He noted how drawn and haggard was her face, and limp and helpless her body. In an instant the truth flashed upon him, and filled him with an overwhelming dismay. Was this his own Owindia, the one he loved better than life itself? Could it be possible that her reason had deserted her? He had loved her before with all the passion of his ardent nature. But now a deep yearning pity mingled with his affection. She needed his help more than ever.
Drawing forth his hunting-knife he severed the bonds which bound her to the tree and, her body thus released slipped in a helpless heap at his very feet. Quickly stooping, he caught her in his arms. He seized her hands in his and for the first time noted how hot they were. He felt her face and found that it, too, was burning with a fire which he knew could only come from a raging fever. "Owindia, Owindia," he murmured, "speak to Natsatt. He is here." Then he lowered his head and imprinted a kiss upon those hot lips. "You are mine," he continued, "and nothing but death can separate us now. Oh, to meet the villains who treated you thus cruelly!"
Next the helplessness of his position swept upon him. What was he to do? Owindia could not walk, and how was he to get her back to the Post? The Chilcats were already before the fortification, he believed, and would surely capture him should he attempt to go in that direction. But suppose he did reach the Post how could he gain admittance? The Indians would not let him pass, and there would be no way by which he could communicate with his companions. He was certainly in a difficult position. He could not remain where he was for if the Chilcats returned and found him there his situation would not be enviable. Neither could he build a fire, for the light would surely attract any native who might be prowling near. He must get Owindia away and at once. Perhaps he could find a sheltered place beyond the ridge of rocks where he could build a fire, and thus lie in wait for an opportunity to steal back to the Post.
While these thoughts were passing through his mind Owindia was still lying quietly in his arms. She had not spoken a word since the song had died upon her lips. She was not a heavy burden, in fact her lover was surprised at the lightness of her body. He could carry her without much trouble, he felt sure of that. Scarcely had he taken a step forward than she began to talk in her wild rambling manner. Now she was urging on the Ayana people, calling to them to drive out the Chilcats. Again it was of her father she spoke. He was in danger and she was trying to get to him. Then Natsatt's name dropped from her lips, and thrilled the heart of the young man. Why did he not come to save her from the enemy? she asked. Had he forgotten her that he was so long in coming?
"Hush, darling," Natsatt replied, pressing her more closely to his breast. "Natsatt is here. Do you not feel his arms around you? He will save you. Don't be afraid, little one."
Still she babbled on, and as Natsatt struggled slowly through the darkness, his heart was heavy within him. Occasionally he stumbled, and with difficulty regained his feet. His burden which seemed so light at first became much heavier, and at times he was forced to lay her upon the ground that he might rest his arms a little. Up and up he steadily climbed to the top of the rocky ridge, then down the opposite side straight toward the river. How long the way seemed. He had never realised that the distance was so great. The trees in the valley were smaller, and much closer together, which made travelling extremely difficult. Natsatt's progress was accordingly very slow, and it seemed a long time ere he at length came near the river. Here he paused, and placing Owindia tenderly upon the ground groped around for a suitable place to build a fire. The bank of the river at this locality was steep and rugged where the ice had torn away the earth in its onward sweep during the great spring rush. In one place a huge hole had been gouged out of the embankment, and as Natsatt examined it as well as the darkness would permit, he considered it a favourable spot to make his fire. The high bank would somewhat hide the light from being seen by the Chilcats. Searching around among the trees he gathered an armful of dry boughs and sticks and soon had the satisfaction of seeing a cheerful blaze illumining the night. Next he cut a liberal supply of fresh fir boughs and made a comfortable bed near the fire. Upon these he laid Owindia, and taking off his own buck-skin jacket placed it over her body. The maiden made no attempt to move, but remained perfectly still and quiet. Then Natsatt sat down to keep watch, and to replenish the fire whenever such work was needed.
Hour after hour the young man stayed on guard. At times Owindia fell into a fitful sleep, only to awake with a cry, from which she wandered off into other worlds, babbling of them in an unconnected manner. Natsatt kept his eyes fixed most of the time upon the maiden's face. How he longed for that vacant expression to vanish, and to hear her speak to him as of old. With her in her right mind the camp in the wild would have been a most blissful spot. He wondered how long the fever would last. Suppose she should die, and leave him alone? How could he live without her? Oh, to have a doctor near, or some one who knew what to do to help her! Would Ranger Dan know? he mused. He had lived so long among the natives perhaps he had learned something from them. Owindia must not die. He looked up into the heavens, and saw the stars twinkling down upon them. He had never thought much about higher things. He had frequently attended the little churches at the mission stations on the other side of the mountains, and had listened to the words of the missionaries. But so full of strength was he that he never felt the need of other help beyond his own. To-night, however, it was different, and he began to wonder what was above those stars. Was there any one who could help him in his present trouble? He was thinking thus when the report of a gun winged through the darkness and fell upon his ears. Leaping to his feet he sprang up the bank, and listened intently. He had not long to wait, for in a few seconds the sounds of a regular fusillade reached him. Then he knew that the battle was on in earnest, and he longed to be at the Post to assist his comrades. The shots seemed quite near, and ran in a circle around the spot where the Post was situated. The Indians had evidently surrounded the place, and were making a desperate assault upon the besieged. Presently yells of derision, and at times, of pain, split the night, showing plainly that the white men were meeting the attack with spirited determination. Natsatt thought of the insufficient supply of ammunition at the Post, and he wondered how long the besiegers could be kept at bay. When the powder and balls gave out there would be nothing left but a hand to hand struggle. He shuddered as he thought of the only outcome of such an encounter. The whites would be out-numbered ten to one, and what chance would they have against such sturdy and blood-thirsty opponents? Could his companions hold out until morning? he asked himself. Glancing away to the left he saw the horizon brightening with the light of early dawn. The distant mountain peaks were catching the first faint gleam, but the world below was still lost in the mantle of night.
Natsatt piled more wood upon the fire, and sat down by Owindia's side. No change could he see in her staring eyes which often looked upon him with no mark of recognition. His heart was growing heavier, and a deep sigh escaped his lips as he listened to the firing mingled with yells in the distance. How could he ever reach the Post, and if he did the defenders would be so occupied that they would not hear him. What was he to do? Must he allow Owindia to die there by the river without making an effort to save her life. Again he made his way up the steep bank, and paced for a time to and fro in an effort to formulate some line of action. Dawn was stealing down the mountains now, and bringing into relief objects near at hand. His face was turned upstream, and he was about to discontinue his walking in order to go back to Owindia, when his eyes rested upon an object which brought him to a sudden standstill. Then a thrill of hope shot into his heart as he looked, and hurrying forward leaped down the bank. There upon the shore, securely tied with a moose-hide thong was a large canoe, which evidently belonged to the Chilcats. Only this one could he see, although he believed that there must be others not far away. He upbraided himself for not having thought of the canoes before. The Chilcats had come downstream in them, and there must be several somewhere in the vicinity. In this craft he saw the solution of the problem which had become so difficult.
He found several paddles lying in the bottom, just where they had been left by the late occupants. Quickly untying the painter, he gave the canoe a shove and sprang in. It did not take him long to reach the place where Owindia was lying. Lifting her in his arms he laid her first upon the ground. Then gathering up the fir boughs he made with them a comfortable bed in the bottom of the canoe. This done and with the maiden lying upon them, he pushed off, and the current being strong the canoe was soon speeding swiftly down the river.
Natsatt steered close to the shore, keeping as much as possible within the dark shadows of the tall trees along the bank. He knew it would not do to run any risk, as Chilcats might be skulking near the river, and especially so when he came near the Post. Presently he changed his mind, and heading the craft for mid-stream ran it across to the opposite side of the river. He felt safer now, and could obtain a better view of the Post and its surroundings. It was too dark to see far, but as he looked he could tell that the firing from the Post had ceased entirely. He was surprised at this and wondered if his companions' ammunition had given out already. Perhaps they were reserving their scanty supply for the assault upon the barricade. He knew that Dan was too wise a general to allow his men to spend their last charges in a futile fire.
By this time he was almost opposite the Post, so turning the bow of the canoe he re-crossed the stream, and in a few minutes was close to the water-gate. Here he had hoped to make his voice heard, without any danger of the Indians seeing or hearing him. But what was his astonishment to find the gate unfastened. He could hardly believe it possible, and thought it must be a careless over-sight on the part of the defenders. Had the Chilcats made an attack there they could have gained an easy admittance. Opening the gate he ran the canoe inside, and leaping out shut to the big portal, and made it fast with the heavy bar kept for the purpose.
Leaving Owindia in the canoe he hurried up to the store, and was surprised to see none of the men inside the fortification. What did it all mean? Surely they had not been shot, and crawling within the building were huddled together there. The door leading to the store was closed. He almost dreaded to open it, fearing the worst. A strange silence and awe pervaded the place. At length he lifted his hand, opened the door, and entered. First he went into the large room, where the men were in the habit of gathering. Finding no one there he passed into the store, but stopped short on the threshold, for there before him was Ranger Dan standing alone in the centre of the room. Upon the old man's face was a fierce look of defiance. His form was drawn to its full height, and his hands clutched firmly his musket. Then the truth flashed across Natsatt's mind with a stabbing intensity. The men had deserted the Post, and had left their leader to the mercy of the Chilcats!