The Chief of the Ranges: A Tale of the Yukon

by H. A. Cody

He found Dan standing in the door-way, looking forth upon him as he approached. Since early that morning the old Ranger had watched with the keenest interest the arrival of the natives at the store. He had sat on a stool behind the counter and noted every movement of the Indians. At first sight it would seem as if his mind was intent upon business, and anxious for barter. But it was soon evident that something else engaged his attention. He paid little or no heed to the men, but gazed earnestly upon the women. Whenever a squaw crossed the threshold he riveted his eyes upon her face. He seemed to be expecting some special person, and each time his countenance expressed disappointment as he turned away his head to observe a newcomer.

The Indians had brought no furs with them, and said nothing about trade. They examined everything in the store, however, and left apparently satisfied with their first visit. Dan waited until all had departed. Then he went to the door of the stockade and watched them moving away to their various lodges. He knew they would return and perhaps bring back valuable furs. He was accustomed to the ways of the Indians, so their silence did not trouble him.

For some time he remained almost motionless, his heavy form bulking large in the door-way. His right hand clutched at his long shaggy beard, while his faded grey eyes gazed off among the trees in an abstracted manner. His face was unusually grave, telling plainly of some weight which was pressing upon his heart. Had he not waited months for the coming of the Indians? Had he not anxiously counted the days before their expected arrival? And they had come, he had looked upon them, and had learned nothing. He knew there would be others, and the thought gave him some comfort. But this first disappointment was somewhat hard to bear.

It was a beautiful morning. Not a breath of wind stirred the tapering points of the fir trees and jack pines, whose long trailing shadows lay sprawling upon the ground. Squirrels scolded, and birds warbled as they flitted here and there. Spring had come in reality, bringing with it the great renewal of earth and air.

But Dan had eyes for none of these, neither were his ears attuned to Nature's dulcet harmonies. He was living, as he had often lived, in the past. It was a vision he beheld of a similar spring day years before. He saw another trading Post, and a fair, lithesome form walking up the trail, and humming catches of an old song. Her dark, clear eyes were sparkling with animation as she held out to him a handful of wild flowers, several sprays of which she had wreathed in her jet black hair. Oh, but she was fair to look upon, the very embodiment of health, beauty, and joy. He had something to live for then, and the days passed like an Elysian summer. But now he was old, and she was nowhere near to comfort his declining years. Where was she? What had become of her since that spring over twenty years before?

The vision suddenly faded, and in its stead Natsatt stood before him. The far away expression disappeared from his eyes, and the old look returned. He was the commander once again.

"Where are the rest of the men?" he asked. "I haven't seen any of them for some time."

"I don't know," was the reply. "I haven't seen them, either. Perhaps they are strolling about among the lodges having friendly chats with the Indians. I myself have just been over to see the chief."

"Have a care, lad," and Dan laid a heavy hand upon the young man's shoulder as he spoke. "There is to be no fooling, remember, with the Indian women out yon. By heavens! if I catch any of you men meddling with those squaws I'll shoot you like dogs that have been worrying sheep. I've never had any Post degraded when I was in command, and I'm determined that this won't be the first. My word is law here, and I'll be judge and executioner combined if necessary. When I wanted a woman from the camp I took her, and we were lawfully joined together. But I strongly advise you to leave them alone entirely. There should be some white woman beyond the mountains who'd be only too glad to marry such a lad as you."

During this speech, which was a long one for the Ranger to make, Natsatt's face at first flushed with anger. This, however, gradually faded, as he noted the pathos in Dan's voice.