Indeed, it came within the week—two days of heavy, drifting snow and high wind. And when it came we knew that ere long we would be parted from our little lass. But the manner of that parting, and the ending of it, was in no wise what we had looked forward to.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE RAIDERS.
Now it may be that the things I have to relate will seem strange and un-Christian and wondrous, even as they do to me. Yet are they but the truth. In that far Northern land many such things come to pass, for there man is very close to the forces of the world, and whether it be that his mind is quickened by the dread silence of the snows, or whether there is in truth a nearness to God in that silence, I know not. It has often vexed me and the answer is not yet.
But this much I do know. Holding to none of the superstitions around me, I then believed and do still affirm that the whole matter of the Moose of Mystery, the Mighty One, was under the direction of some Higher Power, and that Gib o' Clarclach came to his triumph and his end through that same guidance. Howbeit, I had best leave you to judge for yourselves.
That storm came upon us and closed us in our lodges for two days. On the third morning it was decided that we should start forth just as soon as the crust had formed strong enough to bear dogs and sled. In the meantime, Uchichak and I went forth upon a last hunt, thinking to bring in a caribou or elk, for with the winter the bison had drifted far to the south of us.
Two days of idleness and gorging, as was the custom of the Crees, had well-nigh finished the stock of food in the village. Therefore most of the men fared forth on the hunt. Radisson and the two Mohawks trailed together, admitting none other to their company, and on the second morning thereafter we four were to set out upon our quest. According to custom, the warriors set out in small groups or singly, scattering in all directions. Ruth was engaged in making deerskin scabbards for the fusils, since in that terrific cold it was impossible to set fingers to iron.
Uchichak and I were accompanied by a lively young brave named Wapistan, or The Marten, who had often gone out with us, and whose tracking powers were remarkable. As ever, we were armed only with bows and flint-tipped arrows. My own weapon, which I had made with great care, was a source of great interest to the Crees, for it was full twice as long and thick as theirs, and even Uchichak could scarcely bend it, although to me the trick came easily enough. I would never be as expert as was The Crane, but when it came to distance I could overshoot him greatly. This, however, was more by reason of my greater strength, for which quality of body I later thanked God most heartily.
The fierceness of the storm seemed to have driven most of the larger animals to the shelter of the hills, and although we circled widely to the cast of the village and then to the north, by that evening we had found nothing save a few rabbits, which barely were sufficient for our own needs. As there was another day ahead of us, we camped that night beneath some willows on the bank of an ice-clad river. I urged Uchichak to push forward to the hills in the northeast, but he refused stoutly.
"Those are the Ghost Hills, brother. There walks the Mighty One, and the Spirits of the Dead who Dance. We can hear them singing in the wind. We must not disturb them."