XIX
THE AWAKENING OF THE GREAT HEART
On and on through the dense forests he went, straight, unswerving, to the southward. Hours passed as he traversed the black depths, then more hours came and went as he hurried over long miles of barrens. The winter darkness brightened, and the light of another day grew and shone cold-coloured on the face of the northern solitudes. Many times Jules saw wolves, now running before him, then sneaking cowardly on his trail, and yowling with notes of hunger in their deep voices. He crossed trails of the musk-ox, that shy inhabitant of the far North that shuns the slightest suspicion of a human being. Foxes scuttled away as he advanced, and the white ptarmigan whirred with boisterous wings from his course. He saw traces of the grizzly bear, and sighed as he thought of the thick warm skins of these monsters that he once had had as his own, Each night of his travel he built a little fire, ate, then slept beside it, and the next day sped on. Sometimes the whirling snow would wrap itself about him caressingly, but with the fierce grasp of the cold in it; again all would be still—no wind, nothing but the sound of his own steps to break the insolvable, inscrutable stillness of everything. He followed frozen rivers, crossed the shapes of lakes, solid and deep with snow, went over mountains, climbing slowly up their steep, slippery sides and airily coasting down beyond on his wide snow-shoes. He watched for human tracks, but saw none. Day after day his eyes scanned the interminable distances, and roved over the desolate barren scenes and solemn depths of the forests.
Then one evening, just as the northern lights began their fantastic contortions and shiftings, he reached Poste Reliance. The faint reflections of many fires shone glowingly over the top of the walls, and Jules’s heart was glad as he went in the gate. “Marie!” he whispered softly, looking about him.
There was a crowd around a tepee; they sat there talking in low tones, and he joined them. They looked up, hearing his steps.
“Verbaux, par Dieu!” said a voice. Instantly he was surrounded by the men.
“Le Pendu!” Jules said. “Vat you do ici h’at Nor’ouest Compagnie?”
“Nor’ouest? Dat bon! Nor’ouest! Ha, ha, ha!” and the crowd roared with laughter.
Jules tried to withdraw, but everywhere were ugly looks and strong bodies in his way.
“Vat ees?” he asked.
No one answered, and he stood there, towering over the other figures, his eyes searching for a friendly face; then Pendu spoke coarsely: