THE VOICE OF THE DECEIVER
When Natsatt left Owindia, the day they had parted from each other, his heart was full of blissful joy. He recalled every word the maiden had said, as well as her tokens of affection. He entered the Post like one in a dream. How good life was to him, he believed. What joy there was in living when he had so much to live for. He hardly thought of the presence of the Chilcats, as deep passionate love had driven everything else from his mind.
He was rudely brought back to earth when once inside the Post. There he found much activity going on. The men were strengthening the fortification, looking after the guns and ammunition, while several were carrying supplies of water from the river. Some cast surly looks upon Natsatt as he entered, which affected him not in the least. It was only when he met Ranger Dan was his composure shaken, and his dream-castle knocked to pieces.
"Where in the devil have you been for such a length of time?" the Ranger demanded. "The rest of the men have been hard at work, while you have been loafing. Over to see the squaw, I suppose. I brought you into this country to work, and not to mope around like a love-sick fool."
Natsatt's face flushed under his leader's words, and he was tempted to reply in the same coin. He checked himself, however, knowing that anger would be of no avail. He wished to keep on the good side of Dan, especially so now as his companions were turning against him.
"Do not judge too harshly, Dan," he replied. "I admit that I have been neglecting the Post this morning, but perhaps I have done something else which is just as important, if not more so."
"In what way, young man? Making more love to the chief's daughter? That no doubt is more important in your eyes, but not in mine, remember."
"Don't be too sure of that, Dan. Suppose I have learned something for which you have been searching for years? Would you not consider that important?"
"Hey? What is that you tell me? Something important? There is only one thing which is of vital importance to me, and it's not likely you have learned anything about that. Would to God you had!"
"But I have, Dan," Natsatt insisted. "The chief's daughter told me, and I intended to speak to you about it before, but the arrival of the Chilcats drove it out of my mind. It's about Klota."
At that name Dan's face underwent a marvellous transformation. The sarcastic expression disappeared, and an eager light shone in his eyes. A tremor shook his body, and reaching forward he laid a strong hand upon the young man's shoulder.
"Speak, speak, quick! and let me know what you have heard," he demanded in a hoarse whisper. "Is she alive? Is she here?"
"No," Natsatt replied. "She is not here; she is—" His voice faltered, and he was unable to finish the sentence. How could he tell this old man the truth? What effect would it have upon him? Perhaps it would break his heart.
Dan noted the hesitation, and truly read the meaning.
"Dead!" he breathed. "You needn't say the word. I know it already."
He stood for a few seconds looking full into Natsatt's face. In his eyes dwelt an expression the young man had never seen there before. It told of the last abandonment of hope, and the end of all earthly desires. He tottered for an instant, and then sinking upon a bench near by, buried his face in his hands.
"Dead!" he murmured. "My beautiful Klota dead! Is it possible! Is it possible! No flower of the forest was as fair as she. No step was as soft as hers. No eyes ever shone with such a light, and no voice of bird was half as sweet as hers. And so she is dead! The babe I held to my breast; the little one who toddled by my side; the child who roamed with me in the woods is dead. Why did I ever live to learn it? Why did I not die thinking that she was still alive? What has been the use of all my wanderings, heart-aches and longings?"
He paused, and sat for some time lost in thought, a pitiable object of despair. Natsatt did not dare to disturb him, and neither did he wish to do so. That bent head, with the hair so white and thin touched him deeply. He longed to go to him, place his arms about him, and tell him how he sympathised with him in his trouble. But he shrank back at the idea, feeling sure that the sorrowing Ranger would resent such an act. At length Dan lifted his head and looked into Natsatt's face.
"Did the girl tell you how Klota died?" he asked. "Did she give any details?"
"Yes. She said the Chilcats did it."
At this the old man leaped to his feet. His weakness had disappeared. His appearance at this moment caused the young man to step back a pace.
"The Chilcats, you say?" he demanded. "The Chilcats killed my Klota?"
"That is what Owindia said."
"And how did she know? Did any one see them do it? Tell me, quick."
"She saw the deed herself. She was there when it was done."
"God in heaven!" burst from the Ranger's lips. "It must be true. And those brutes killed my only child, my darling Klota, and I was not there to save her! But surely others must have been there besides the girl. How did she escape?"
"Her father arrived, and meted out a speedy revenge to one of the Chilcats, and the other got away. There were only two of them."
"Her father, you say? and who was he?"
"Klitonda, the chief of the Ayana. Klota was his wife, and Owindia is his only child."
At these words Dan stared at Natsatt as if he had not heard aright. The young man seeing his perplexity hastened to explain.
"Do you not understand?" he asked. "Owindia is none other than Klota's daughter. Of her you need not be ashamed, for she is the most beautiful maiden I ever saw."
"Owindia is her name, so you say. And she is beautiful, too. But what beauty can ever equal my darling Klota. But see, laddie, I must look upon her. She is Klota's child, and therefore my child. She must come here at once, and stay at the Post. The Chilcats are prowling around, and we cannot tell what might happen to her. I have lost one, but it is something to find another who might be a true daughter to me in my old age. She must not stay here in the wilderness. I shall take her out to civilisation, and whatever money can do for her it shall be done. That will be something to live for. Will she refuse to go, do you think? Will she care to leave her father?"
"I feel quite sure that she will go," Natsatt replied. "That is, she told me she would go anywhere with me."
"Will go with you," repeated the Ranger. "Then she loves you, and has given you her heart. She will not care for an old man. Education will mean nothing to her, and why should it? Why should one born in this land care for the ways and benefits of civilisation?"
"But she does care, Dan. She has often told me how she longed for other things, and is never tired of hearing about the great world beyond the mountains of the rising sun, as she calls it. She learned much from her mother, and is anxious to know more."
"True, quite true, lad. She would not be Klota's child if she did not wish to learn. My mind was so set upon making money that I neglected to give Klota the education she should have had. I was punished for it. Perhaps now I can make amends with her child. Yes, she must come to the Post. And, let me see, she must have a room all by herself. Where can she stay? Ah, I have it. We will fix up the store. A bed in the farther corner, a table near by, and we will straighten things up a bit. Klota's child shall have the best we have to give, and that will be none too good. Help me, lad, to make the room as cosy as we can, and then you must bring her here!"
Dan was quite enthusiastic now, and the old expression of hopelessness had left his face. He had something to live for. Forgotten for a while were the Chilcats as he and Natsatt set to work to make the store as comfortable as possible. It took them some time to arrange things to Dan's complete satisfaction, and then he stood back, and viewed the room.
"It isn't much after all," he remarked. "If we only had a few pictures to hang on the walls, so they wouldn't look so bare; a looking glass, a few chairs, and some rugs for the floor. But it's all we've got. I guess we'll have to wait until we get outside where we can buy such things."
"Suppose we never go outside?" Natsatt questioned. "Suppose the Chilcats will not let us?"
"Don't you worry about that, lad," was the reply. "What do I care for a pack of measly Indians? Haven't I lived among them all my life? They'll never attack us; they're too cowardly for that. When they see our defence, and some of their men get knocked over, they'll soon beat a retreat. We're snug in here, and can stand a long siege."
"Do not misjudge the Chilcats, Dan," Natsatt answered. "If what I have heard is correct we shan't be rid of them in a hurry. They are great warriors, and are determined to drive us out. They have never been defeated, and are most blood-thirsty and cruel. Klitonda knows all about them, and he has told me many things."
"What you say, lad, may be true, but remember, they have never yet run up against white men with Ranger Dan in charge. I have an old score to pay back now, have I not? Did they not murder Klota? I am just longing to get at them. My blood tingles, and my fingers twitch. I am an old man, but there is the spirit of youth in my veins still. I was somewhat of a fighter in my younger days, and I guess I can fight some yet, especially against the Chilcat murderers. But, there, that will do. We have talked too long already, and it's getting late. You had better hurry off for the maid. I am anxious to see her. In the meantime I shall find out what the men are doing outside. They are inclined to loaf of late, and are quite surly at times. There seems to be something brewing, which I can't altogether fathom. But if they try any of their ugly tricks with me it won't be well with them, I can tell you that."
Natsatt knew full well that there was something wrong with the men, and he was fully aware of the cause. But he did not wish to be a tale-bearer. He, therefore, left the store and made his way over to the chief's abode, while Dan went out to see what the men were doing.
Natsatt was not long in reaching the lodge where he expected to find Owindia. He noted that most of the Indians had left the place, and that those who remained were carrying their few belongings to their canoes preparatory for a speedy departure.
At the chief's lodge no one was to be seen. The robes remained inside, while several kettles were found outside. He called Owindia by name, but received no reply. What had become of her? he wondered. Perhaps she had gone back to the shore where he had found her that day. He started for the river, and had gone but a short distance when he came to the lean-to of Nagu, the medicine man. He did not wish to speak to the creature, and was about to pass when the conjurer suddenly arose from his squatting position and stood before him. Upon his face was an expression of diabolical hatred, and his hands and arms moved to and fro in an excited manner.
"What's the matter?" Natsatt demanded in the native tongue. "Is anything wrong? What do you want? I have nothing to give you."
"Nagu, the great medicine man, wants nothing," was the savage reply. "He would not take anything from the half-breed dog. Why does he come here? Why do the white men come into this country? They will never go out again. The Chilcats will fall upon them, and there will not be one left. Does the half-breed think that he will take away the chief's daughter beyond the great mountains?"
"Yes, the half-breed thinks he will," Natsatt replied. "All the Chilcats on the coast cannot stop him. He is not afraid of them."
"The half-breed's words are big," Nagu rejoined. "But he does not know the Chilcats, and he does not know the chief's daughter. He thinks he does, but he is mistaken."
"What do you mean? I don't understand you," and Natsatt looked keenly into the creature's cunning eyes as he spoke.
"Does the half-breed want to know? Will he like to hear what Nagu can tell him?"
"Yes. What can you say that will trouble me?"
"Nagu can tell much, for he has seen and heard. He saw the Chilcat messenger in Klitonda's lodge. He listened to what was said, and he saw the chief's daughter go away. What does the half-breed think of that?"
"You saw the Chilcat messenger in the chief's lodge, and watched Owindia go away with him," Natsatt repeated in a puzzled manner. "Your words are strange. Do you know what you are saying?"
"Ah, ah, Nagu knows. The Chilcat chief's son sent for Klitonda's daughter. He wants her for his wife."
A great fear now leaped into Natsatt's heart. He felt that he had not heard aright. And yet there could be no mistake. The medicine man had spoken, and what reason had he for doubting his words. All his calmness had left him, and a nameless something overwhelmed him. Owindia gone away to be the wife of a Chilcat! It could not be. He would not believe such a thing about Owindia. It angered him to think that any one would say such a thing about her. He remembered her words that afternoon, and her clinging affection.
"You villain!" he cried. "You lie! Why do you tell such a story to me? Do you think I will believe you. Owindia is not such a creature as you are to turn away from the one she loves."
The medicine man's eyes grew smaller until they became like two narrow slits. His hands and arms ceased their wild movements.
"The half-breed thinks that Nagu lies, does he? Let him think so, then. But he will find out in time, and he will remember that he was told the truth."
"But why should Owindia go to the Chilcats?" Natsatt queried. "Are they not her enemies? Why should she leave her father, and her own people?"
"Nagu has spoken," was the reply. "He has told the half-breed what he has seen and heard. If he does not believe him let him go to the Chilcat dogs and learn for himself."
Natsatt looked for a short time upon the medicine man, and then without another word left him, and went back to Klitonda's lodge. He wished to be alone to think over what he had just heard. Perhaps it was all a base lie. He knew much about the wiles of these northern conjurers. They would stoop to any depth in order to further their evil designs. But what purpose could Nagu have now? Why should he concoct such a story about Owindia? What object could he have in view? But try as he might he could not banish the horrible thought from his mind, that there was much truth in the story. And where was Klitonda? What had become of him? Surely he would not let his daughter go to the Chilcats. He would rather see her dead than that such a thing should happen. Thus the more he racked his brain for a solution of the problem the more mysterious it became.
He stayed for a while at the lodge, hoping that Owindia would appear. But when she did not come he at length made his way slowly back to the Post. He dreaded to tell Dan what he had learned. What would the old man say, and how would he feel? He found him with the men in the large room adjoining the store. The Ranger looked expectantly up as Natsatt entered, but said nothing when he saw that he was alone. He noted the disappointed expression upon his face, and realised at once that something was wrong. He waited, however, until supper was ended, and then drawing the young man into the store questioned him eagerly about the maiden.
And Natsatt told him the whole story just as he had received it from the medicine man.
"I can't understand it," he said in conclusion. "It is not like Owindia. She would never do such a thing. I cannot believe that she would leave me to go to the Chilcats. She is too true for that. And besides, her father would not let her go."
"It is certainly strange," Dan replied. "The medicine man may have invented this lie for some purpose, you can never trust one of those creatures. But speculation won't do us any good. We must find out where the girl is. If she is with the Chilcats, and has gone of her own free will, I don't see that we can do anything. But if they have stolen her away, and are keeping her as prisoner then by heavens! we've got to do something, and the sooner we make a move the better."
"That's my opinion, too, Dan," Natsatt quietly remarked. "Do you think I could stay here all night knowing that Owindia was out there with those devils against her will? We must know the truth at once."
"And what is your plan, lad?"
"With your permission I shall visit the Chilcat camp to-night, find out if she is there, and learn the strength of the Coast Indians. It is certainly important for us to know."
"You are right, you are right," the Ranger mused. "We should know how many there are who have come against us. But it will be a difficult undertaking. However, it can't be helped. You have my consent to go, but be very careful. I don't want to lose you."