as nepeese gazed about the rock-walled end of the cañon, the prison into which they had driven wakayoo and baree, pierrot looked up again from his skinning of the big black bear, and he muttered something that no one but himself could have heard. “non, it is not possible,” he had said a moment before; but to nepeese it was possible—the thought that was in her mind. it was a wonderful thought. it thrilled her to the depth of her wild, beautiful soul. it sent a glow into her eyes and a deeper flush of excitement into her cheeks and lips.
as she quested the ragged edges of the little meadow for signs of the dog-pup, her thoughts flashed back swiftly. two years ago they had buried her princess mother under the tall spruce near their cabin. that day pierrot’s sun had set for all time, and her own life was filled with a vast loneliness. there had been three at the graveside that afternoon as the sun went down—pierrot, herself, and a dog, a great, powerful husky with a white star on his breast and a white-tipped ear. he had been her dead mother’s pet from puppyhood—her bodyguard, with her always, even with his head resting on the side of her bed as she died. and that night, the night of the day they buried her, the dog had disappeared. he had gone as quietly and as completely as her spirit. no one ever saw him after that. it was strange, and to pierrot it was a miracle. deep in his heart he was filled with the wonderful conviction that the dog had gone with his beloved wyola into heaven.
but nepeese had spent three winters at the missioner’s school at nelson house. she had learned a great deal about white people and the real god, and she knew that pierrot’s thought was impossible. she believed that her mother’s husky was either dead or had joined the wolves. probably he had gone to the wolves. so—was it not possible that this youngster she and her father had pursued was of the flesh and blood of her mother’s pet? it was more than possible. the white star on his breast, the white-tipped ear—the fact that he had not bitten her when he might easily have buried his fangs in the soft flesh of her arms! she was convinced. while pierrot skinned the bear, she began hunting for baree.
baree had not moved an inch from under his rock. he lay like a thing stunned, his eyes fixed steadily on the scene of the tragedy out in the meadow. he had seen something that he would never forget—even as he would never quite forget his mother and kazan and the old windfall. he had witnessed the death of the creature he had thought all-powerful. wakayoo, the big bear, had not even put up a fight. pierrot and nepeese had killed him without touching him; now pierrot was cutting him with a knife which shot silvery flashes in the sun; and wakayoo made no movement. it made baree shiver, and he drew himself an inch farther back under the rock, where he was already wedged as if he had been shoved there by a strong hand.
he could see nepeese. she came straight back to the break through which his flight had taken him, and stood at last not more than twenty feet from where he was hidden. now that she stood where he could not escape, she began weaving her shining hair into two thick braids. baree had taken his eyes from pierrot, and he watched her curiously. he was not afraid now. his nerves tingled. in him a strange and growing force was struggling to solve a great mystery—the reason for his desire to creep out from under his rock and approach that wonderful creature with the shining eyes and the beautiful hair.
baree wanted to approach. it was like an invisible string tugging at his very heart. it was kazan, and not gray wolf, calling to him back through the centuries, a “call” that was as old as the egyptian pyramids and perhaps ten thousand years older. but against that desire gray wolf was pulling from out the black ages of the forests. the wolf held him quiet and motionless. nepeese was looking about her. she was smiling. for a moment her face was turned toward him, and he saw the white shine of her teeth, and her beautiful eyes seemed glowing straight at him.
and then, suddenly, she dropped on her knees and peered under the rock.
their eyes met. for at least half a minute there was not a sound. nepeese did not move, and her breath came so softly that baree could not hear it. then she said, almost in a whisper:
“baree! baree! upi baree!”
it was the first time baree had heard his name, and there was something so soft and assuring in the sound of it that in spite of himself the dog in him responded to it in a whimper that just reached the willow’s ears. slowly she stretched in an arm. it was bare and round and soft. he might have darted forward the length of his body and buried his fangs in it easily. but something held him back. he knew that it was not an enemy; he knew that the dark eyes shining at him so wonderfully were not filled with the desire to harm—and the voice that came to him softly was like a strange and thrilling music.
“baree! baree! upi baree!”
over and over again the willow called to him like that, while on her face she tried to draw herself a few inches farther under the rock. she could not reach him. there was still a foot between her hand and baree, and she could not wedge herself in an inch more. and then she saw where on the other side of the rock there was a hollow, shut in by a stone. if she had removed the stone, and come in that way——
she drew herself out and stood once more in the sunshine. her heart thrilled. pierrot was busy over his bear—and she would not call him. she made an effort to move the stone which closed in the hollow under the big boulder, but it was wedged in tightly. then she began digging with a stick. if pierrot had been there, his sharp eyes would have discovered the significance of that stone, which was not larger than a water pail. possibly for centuries it had lain there, its support keeping the huge rock from toppling down, just as an ounce-weight may swing the balance of a wheel that weighs a ton.
five minutes—and nepeese could move the stone. she tugged at it. inch by inch she dragged it out until at last it lay at her feet and the opening was ready for her body. she looked again toward pierrot. he was still busy, and she laughed softly as she untied a big red-and-white bay handkerchief from about her shoulders. with this she would secure baree. she dropped on her hands and knees and then lowered herself flat on the ground and began crawling into the hollow under the boulder.
baree had moved. with the back of his head flattened against the rock, he had heard something which nepeese had not heard; he had felt a slow and growing pressure, and from this pressure he had dragged himself slowly—and the pressure still followed. the mass of rock was settling! nepeese did not see or hear or understand. she was calling to him more and more pleadingly:
“baree—baree—baree——”
her head and shoulders and both arms were under the rock now. the glow of her eyes was very close to baree. he whined. the thrill of a great and impending danger stirred in his blood. and then——
in that moment nepeese felt the pressure of the rock on her shoulder, and into the eyes that had been glowing softly at baree there shot a sudden wild look of horror. and then there came from her lips a cry that was not like any other sound baree had ever heard in the wilderness—wild, piercing, filled with agonized fear. pierrot did not hear that first cry. but he heard the second and the third—and then scream after scream as the willow’s tender body was slowly crushed under the settling mass. he ran toward it with the speed of the wind. the cries were weaker—dying away. he saw baree as he came out from under the rock and ran into the cañon, and in the same instant he saw a part of the willow’s dress and her moccasined feet. the rest of her was hidden under the death-trap. like a madman pierrot began digging. when a few moments later he drew nepeese out from under the boulder she was white and deathly still. her eyes were closed. his hand could not feel that she was living, and a great moan of anguish rose out of his soul. but he knew how to fight for a life. he tore open her dress and found that she was not crushed as he had feared. then he ran for water. when he returned, the willow’s eyes were open and she was gasping for breath.
“the blessed saints be praised!” sobbed pierrot, falling on his knees at her side. “nepeese, ma nepeese!”
she smiled at him, with her two hands on her bare breast, and pierrot hugged her up to him, forgetting the water he had run so hard to get.
still later, when he got down on his knees and peered under the rock, his face turned white and he said:
“mon dieu, if it had not been for that little hollow in the earth, nepeese——”
he shuddered, and said no more. but nepeese, happy in her salvation, made a movement with her hand and said, smiling at him:
“i would have been like—that. ah, mon père, i hope i shall never have a lover like that rock!”
pierrot’s face darkened as he bent over her.
“non!” he said fiercely. “never!”
he was thinking again of mctaggart, the factor at lac bain, and his hands clenched while his lips softly touched the willow’s hair.
