The Chief of the Ranges: A Tale of the Yukon

by H. A. Cody

"Seems so," Dan replied. "But I wonder how far."

Then he pointed down the river, and toward the sun. At this the Indians shook their heads and held up their fingers, some four, others three, and two one.

It was quite evident that they were uncertain as to the distance, and nothing further could be learned from them. After a few more signs had been made Dan and Natsatt pushed off, and continued on their way downstream. They were feeling more encouraged since they had learned that what seemed to be a Post or Fort lay ahead. Word of the white men no doubt had been brought up the river to these Indians.

The day passed, and another weary night. The following day found them still drifting down that great stream which seemed to have no end. Then another night, and as the blackness stole around them a feeling of deep depression came into their hearts. Owindia was weaker, and moaned more than ever. She was failing fast they could plainly tell, and unless help came soon she could not last much longer. Dan had prepared for her a nourishing drink from a piece of the moose meat. He had done it the evening after they had left the Indians at the mouth of the river. It was the rich juice which he had boiled from the meat, and some of this they had forced Owindia to take. But notwithstanding all their efforts the maiden was sinking. As Natsatt watched her his heart became very heavy. How he longed for her to open her eyes and fix them upon him. Would she ever do it again? he asked himself. During the day he often held her hands as he sat by her side with bent head. Dan seeing the young man's silent grief was much moved.

"Keep up a stout heart, lad," he had said. "While there's life in her body we must not give up. That place can't be far ahead."

"I have kept up hope, God knows," Natsatt responded. "But what does it all amount to, I'd like to know. Owindia is failing, and we'll have two to bury instead of one. And perhaps there'll be three, for what will be the use of my living without her. Oh, Dan, you don't know how much she means to me. She is the only woman I ever really loved, and with her I know I could do almost anything. Why should I find her, only to lose her in such a short time!"

So far north had they now gone that the nights were becoming very short. The sun merely dipped below the horizon, and the light from the great orb was enough to illumine the whole land. Objects could be seen quite distinctly some distance away. When the sun again rose from its golden bath into which it had plunged, Dan, who was steering caught sight of something ahead which caused him to sit bolt upright, and shade his eyes with his hand. Then he called to Natsatt.

"See, lad," he cried, "isn't that a building ahead? Your eyes are better than mine. Upon yon bank it stands."

"It's the Post!" Natsatt replied, now much excited. "There seem to be several buildings. Let's drive the canoe, and get there as soon as possible."

Hope once again filled their hearts as they bent to their paddles and the canoe fairly leaped through the water. With steady work in about an hour's time they were so close to the building that they could see people moving about, and noticed smoke ascending from the large house which had first attracted their attention. It did not take them long now to reach the place. But before they arrived the bank was lined with natives watching with curiosity the coming of the strange craft. Never did faces appear so good to the two voyagers as did those dusky features appear on that summer morning. They were friendly, and as soon as the canoe touched the shore eager hands grasped the bow and drew it well up on the beach.