“Wah! they would not go to that place!” said Mary-Belle with a look of terror. “There is bad medicine in that place! Gault has said if they will drive the horses as far as the red spring, the water of which makes men and horses sick and well again, he will give each man a Stetson hat and a mouth-organ. Blackburn never had mouth-organs in his store. The red spring is half way between the two rivers. Gault says for the Slavis to leave the horses there and come home. Musqua (one of the Crees) is riding fast to bring the Crees from Fort Good Hope. Moale and Watusk (the other Cree) will watch the horses and the fur at the red spring until they come. So there is no harm.”
Loseis let the subject drop.
After supper, choosing a moment when she believed that Gault and Moale were still at the table, she went over to the store. Fastening the door behind her, she climbed through the back window, and making her way down to the creek shore, followed it down to the Slavi village. Of course if Gault happened to look out of the end window of his house, he could see her amongst the Slavis; but then it would be too late to interfere with her purpose.
The air was still full of a pleasant warmth, and the Slavis having just eaten, were squatting in groups outside the tepees, laughing and chatting in their ceremonious way. It is only in the presence of a white man that the Indian is taciturn. By this time the men had thrown off the alcoholic poison which had made them sick for days, and a general feeling of well-being was in the air. Fathers fondled their little sons, and abused their womenfolk; and the latter accepted it with equanimity.
At the approach of Loseis a dread silence fell upon them, and they drew a walled look over their dark faces. It was the first time she had visited them since that terrible night, and they expected the worst. But Loseis was bent on playing a part to-night. Her face was as smooth as their own, and much blander. Allowing them to suppose that she had forgotten what had happened, she addressed this one and that by name with grave politeness; promised a mother medicine for her sick child, and handed out peppermint lozenges to the little boys who were the idols of the tribe. Nobody would have thought of giving the little girls candy.
Loseis sat down on an overturned dug-out, with the manner of one who is prepared to hold agreeable discourse. The Slavis began to gather round, but always with that absurd pretense of not letting their left hands know what their right hands were doing. Loseis was very wonderful to them, too wonderful to inspire affection; awe was nearer the word.
At first she talked of the stage of water in the river; the promise of a full crop of berries; the scarcity of rabbit; all subjects of first-rate importance to the Slavis. Ahchoogah, the oldest man present, in order to prove how bold he was, undertook to answer her politely to her face. When Loseis perceived that she had gathered the audience she wanted, she went on casually:
“The wind is from the setting sun. There will be no rain. It is well. The men who are going to-morrow will see Fort Good Hope in five sleeps.”
A tremor of uneasiness passed through her listeners. “No, no!” said Ahchoogah. “We are not going to Fort Good Hope. At the red spring we will turn back.”
“That is Gault’s talk,” said Loseis courteously. “All know that Gault’s talk hides a snare. When you get to the red spring you will not want to turn back. Gault’s medicine will draw you on. It is very strong medicine. It’s name is electricity. I know it, because Gault brought me a little piece of it when he came here. The girls at my house have told you that. It opens its eye in the dark.”