The Chief of the Ranges: A Tale of the Yukon

by H. A. Cody

Owindia asked no questions. She understood her father's peculiar moods and knew when to be silent. He would tell her his plans at the proper time, she felt sure.

Putting on his snow-shoes, and swinging the larger bundle upon his shoulder, Klitonda left the lodge and strode rapidly across the open until he came to a place where three trees stood quite close together. Up among the branches was his cache, where he kept his supply of moose meat safe from prowling dogs and wolves. Tying a long moose-hide cord to the bundle, and taking the other end in his hand he climbed one of the trees to the scaffold of poles above. Then drawing up the heavy bundle he placed it in the centre of the cache, and with a grunt of satisfaction returned by the way he had come. Once back in the lodge his tongue became unloosened.

"Little one," he began, "my heart is much stirred by what the stranger told us. The white men have come, and have built the trading Post. They will help us to drive back the Chilcats. As I sat by the fire last night I saw a strange sight. Klota, your mother, seemed to be standing by my side, and she was pointing toward the mountains of the rising sun. And as I looked I saw the passes filled with people of the white race coming toward me. I am sure now that they are on their way into this country, and will help us."

"Perhaps you were dreaming, father," Owindia replied.

"No, no, it was no dream. I was awake, and know it was real. So, little one, we must hurry away from here, and bear the great news to our people. They will not refuse to rouse to action when I tell them about the white men, and what they will do for us. I shall take these furs as gifts to the scattered bands. You must come with me. We shall hasten away at once, for there is no time to lose."

Owindia knew how useless it would be to argue with her father when once his mind was settled upon some definite line of action. With a sigh she gathered up her few belongings, tied them in a small bundle, and took down her light snow-shoes from two pegs driven into the wall. She did not cherish the idea of leaving the snug cabin for the long marches over the dreary wastes of a snow-shrouded land. She wished to remain where she was, for the hope was strong within her heart that Natsatt would shortly return, and what would he think when he found the place deserted? She kept these thoughts to herself, however, and obediently followed her father out of the cabin, with her small pack suspended over her shoulders.

Once outside the lodge Klitonda paused and stood for a few moments lost in thought. Then lifting up his face, he uttered words such as Owindia had never heard him speak before.

"Great Spirit," he began, "and Klota's Great Father, listen to Klitonda. Give the Ayana people hearts of fire, and strength of grizzlies of the mountains, that they may rise and drive back the Chilcats. Send the white people into this land like the wild geese when the ice leaves the rivers, and the snow disappears, that they may help us."

He ceased, and stood for a few moments looking straight before him. Then without another word he strode forward into the sombre forest, with Owindia following silently after.

For days they threaded their way over the great silent land. Spectres they seemed gliding through forests, climbing steep hills, winding along sloping mountain sides, and dotting here and there large inland lakes. Occasionally they stayed their steps where a few lone hunters and trappers had their camp. At each place Klitonda would spend the whole night talking to the eager few gathered about the camp fire. Formerly one topic, and only one, was the theme of vital importance, and that was the hated Chilcats. Now the interest was greatly intensified by the story of the advent of the white men. Deeply interested in his subject, and a natural orator of much repute among the tribes of the North, Klitonda as a rule succeeded in imparting to his hearers some of his own enthusiasm. But, alas, after he left, the fire generally burned low, and sometimes went out altogether. In the presence of their chief the Ayana people could be stirred for a time, but the fear of the Chilcats was too strong for the impression to last.