The Chief of the Ranges: A Tale of the Yukon

by H. A. Cody

[CHAPTER XXVI]

REGIONS BEYOND

When the dawn of a new day broke, the canoe was still sweeping on its way down the Yukon, which was now becoming much wider. During the night Natsatt and Dan had been able to obtain some sleep. They took turns at steering the craft, and did little paddling, merely allowing it to drift over long stretches of water, and around sharp bends. Their progress was accordingly slow. It was necessary for them to advance with care, as they could not tell what dangerous rocks and rapids might be ahead.

Natsatt's chief thought was of Owindia. He had wrapped the blankets closely around her, and had shifted her to as comfortable a position as possible. At times he held her hot limp hand in his, and anxiously watched her face, hoping to see some change upon those loved features. All through the day he had moistened her parched lips with the cool water of the river. She moaned much during the night, and became quite restless. Her head tossed on the rough pillow, and she would throw out her arms, thus loosening the blankets from around her body. It meant constant watchfulness on Natsatt's part to see that the coverings were replaced, for the night was chilly and a damp mist hung along the river. The short time he was asleep Dan looked after the maiden. There was nothing more they could do for her. They were helpless there in the lone wilderness. Few words were spoken during the night. But the Ranger was doing considerable thinking. The more deeply he was moved the more silent he always became. His mind was much upon Klota, and Owindia, with the same form and features, brought back old days. His life for long years had been very lonely, and just when he had found some one to live for it seemed as if she might be taken from him. Suppose she should recover, and they should get back to civilisation, then he would make up for the past. He had neglected to give Klota what was her due, but it would not be so with her only child. As he listened to her moans, and at times rose from his seat to cover her up, a deep love for this poor child came into his heart. Then his hands would clench firmly together, while he made a mental vow that she should not die. When morning dawned they would drive the canoe as it had never been driven before. Surely they would meet with some human beings, whether whites or Indians, who would be able to minister to the maiden.

It was early in the morning when they ran ashore, and built a small fire, and cooked their breakfast of moose meat. It was at the mouth of a small river where they had landed. They noticed signs of an Indian encampment several rods up this stream, but no living person could they behold. The land was covered with a dense forest on this side of the river, and sloped gently to the water's edge. On the opposite side rose high hills, with heavy mountains in the background. It was a scene of grim, gaunt desolation, and the hearts of the two wayfarers became much depressed as they looked around. For themselves they did not care, but only for Owindia. They could go on and on until the mouth of the river was reached. They could die, but it was hard to see her lying there with no one to give a helping hand. Little did they know that they were the pioneers of a region which one day would be throbbing with industrial life; that the little stream which flowed at their feet would in less than half a century attract the attention of the whole world, and the word "Klondyke" would be a common household expression. They could not see that across this river, on that point of land, low, and covered with thick trees and bushes, almost like a swamp, a city would rise magic-like, teeming with thousands of gold-fevered men. But they could not see, and of what avail would such a vision have been to them in their time of necessity? Fifty years would have meant an eternity to them, and they needed help at once.

"Nothing doing here," Dan ejaculated, rising and looking about. "Good Lord, what a hole we've got into! Where are the Indians, anyway? I wouldn't care if they were devils incarnate so long as they showed up that we might learn something about what's ahead of us."

"There's nothing for us to do but to go on," Natsatt replied. "There are Indians around somewhere that's certain, and they may be down stream a bit, and perhaps we shall meet them before night."

Hour after hour they continued on their way, and it was past noon when they came to another river flowing into the Yukon on their left. They were about to pass without stopping, when a canoe bearing several Indians, darted out from behind a small point, and moved toward them. The current here was swift, and with some difficulty Dan and Natsatt swung their big canoe around and made for the shore. When the keel had grated upon the beach they rested and waited for the natives to come closer. This, however, the latter were somewhat reluctant to do. They were armed with bows and axes, which they kept in readiness for any emergency. Natsatt called out to them to approach, and made signs that they would not be harmed. He stood up in the canoe, showed his own empty hands, and pointed to his companion. Little by little the Indians drew nearer, and when they found there was no danger they ran close to the white men.

These strangers were dressed in the rough animal clothing of the country. They were taller than the Indians farther upstream, and appeared to be friendly disposed. Their speech was altogether unintelligible to the white men, and only by signs could they make known their wants. They pointed to the dead chief, upon whom the Indians looked with much interest, and talked rapidly among themselves. But when they saw the maiden they became silent, and drew back a few paces. Natsatt endeavoured to make them understand she needed assistance. They shook their heads, pointed away to the west, looked at the sun, and held up two fingers. By that it was evident that the rest of the band were two days away from the shore, back among the hills. Natsatt next pointed down the river, and then to himself and Dan. The Indians did not at once reply but held an earnest conversation among themselves. Then one took a small stick, and upon the sand made a rude sketch of a square, and around it he made a number of upright strokes.

"It's a Post he means," Natsatt exclaimed, now much excited.