the indians of the valley were engaged at their morning tasks in front of the tepees, the women making and mending clothes, and st. jean bateese showing the boys how to wind the grip of a bow, when without warning the haggard white man and white woman rose over the edge of the green slope. the indians dropped their work, and broke into loud exclamations, which brought nahnya quickly out of one of the tepees. she silenced them peremptorily. nahnya herself betrayed nothing. she approached ralph and kitty with a hard and accusing face, and waited for their explanation.
despair made ralph as callous-seeming and as laconic as nahnya herself. "the white men know about this place," he said abruptly. "joe mixer and his party. they are on their way here. i came to warn you."
nahnya's mask was unbroken. "how many?" she asked.
"three white men and a native."
"who told them?" she asked accusingly.
ralph looked away.
"it was i told them," cried kitty quickly and tremulously. she felt as if she were being ground to pieces between this stony pair. "they tortured him to get it out of him! look at him! he can scarcely stand. you would have told them yourself."
"he tell you?" asked nahnya remorselessly.
kitty's voice began to escape from her control. "he was out of his head!" she said. "it was when he first came. i told you that. he told me in his fever. he didn't know what he was saying!"
ralph turned on kitty. "i didn't bring you here to defend me!" he said harshly.
this was the last straw. kitty turned from them and wept bitterly. neither nahnya nor ralph regarded her.
nahnya said dully: "what matter who tell? it come anyway. always i know that."
there was a silence broken only by kitty, struggling to master her sobs. nahnya studied the ground with a line between her brows, and ralph looked at nahnya.
"what are you going to do?" he asked finally.
nahnya flung up her head. "fight!" she said.
ralph's dull eyes brightened. "we pulled the bridge over to this side of the hole after we crossed it," he said eagerly.
she nodded brief approval. "it take them time to bring logs to make another. i will think all to do. you take some rest."
nahnya issued her orders, and ahahweh took kitty in charge. st. jean bateese led ralph to his tepee, and marya came and dressed his shoulder, and made a sling for his arm. they left him to sleep, but ralph lay watching through the tepee opening, and when he saw nahnya start off in the direction of the cave with a rifle under her arm, he followed.
nahnya ordered him to return. "they not come long time yet, maybe not till to-morrow. anyway, you can't fire a gun. get your sleep!"
"there's no use talking about it," ralph said stubbornly.
nahnya shrugged and went on. kitty was likewise on the watch. she followed a little way after ralph. nahnya frowned, but said nothing.
nahnya took up her post on the rocks above the entrance to the cave. she told ralph coldly that she had decided to make her stand here. he approved it; her enemies must issue one by one into the daylight below. she had armed st. jean bateese and charley with rifles, she said, and the two boys had their bows and arrows. they were all coming directly with blankets, food, and ammunition sufficient for a siege if required.
"she had raised and pointed the gun, but held her fire"
"she had raised and pointed the gun, but held her fire"
they prepared for a long wait. ralph sat down in the grass a little removed from nahnya, and bowed his head on his knees. by and by he fell over like an inanimate object and slept as he lay. farther away sat kitty, like an humble dependent. she nursed her knees and stared over the valley with tear-stained, lack-lustre eyes.
ralph was awakened by a sharp exclamation from nahnya. she had raised and pointed the gun, but held her fire. kitty knelt in the grass with her hands pressed over her ears, terrified in prospect by the expected shot. ralph ran to the edge of the rocks and looked over. philippe boisvert had just issued out of the cave. he held his empty hands over his head, and came climbing up the rocks in that attitude.
arrived within a dozen yards, the half-breed began to speak eagerly in cree. his eyes burned on nahnya strangely. at the sound of his voice surprise broke through the mask of her face.
"philippe!" she murmured.
a flame of jealousy made ralph's cold breast alive again. he had thought he was past all feeling. "what is he saying?" he demanded to know.
nahnya's eyes were troubled. "i know him," she murmured. "from a long time ago. he is the boy i talk with at the mission school."
the half-breed continued his impassioned plea, and nahnya was clearly not unmoved by it. philippe was a handsome young creature and the fire of his feelings was seemingly an honest fire. ralph ground his teeth. kitty, creeping closer, and searching ralph's face, betrayed a reflection of his jealousy in her own.
nahnya soon recovered from her surprise. "speak english," she commanded philippe coldly.
ralph's heart was lightened. the half-breed bent an offensive scowl on him, and his lips curved into a sneer. ralph's returning look was identical. philippe told his tale with a swagger.
"joe mixer hire me at the portage to mak' a trip. i don' know what for. i don' care. i go for fun, 'cause he got plenty w'iskey. bam-by he say he after nahnya crossfox. i lak' to kill him then, but i say not'ing for 'cause i want to know where nahnya crossfox is. seven year i look for her. she is promise to me!"
"promised!" cried ralph, turning to nahnya with stormy brows.
"it was a child's promise," she said coolly. "he soon forget it, and i soon forget it."
philippe launched into cree again, protesting energetically. nahnya interrupted him in the same language. her eyes flashed; under the lash of her tongue the young man quailed.
"now speak english," she said imperiously.
"i help joe to chase the doctor," philippe went on sulkily, "because the doctor know where nahnya is. las' night i find out where she is and i am through with joe, but i bring him down the river with me to sell him good. i hate all white men. when we come to the other side the mountain, i say to joe, you wait here, and i go spy out the way. i come back soon. joe say all right. he think i am his friend. he is a fat fool. he want to kill us all to get the gold himself. he think i not see it in his eye. he is a fool!"
"you say you fool him," said nahnya. "maybe you fool me, too!"
philippe protested passionately in his native tongue. more than once ralph heard the word moon-i-yas, which he knew was cree for white man.
"how did you get across the hole?" asked nahnya.
"i leaped it," said philippe with a swagger.
"are the others behind you?"
"could the fat man leap it?" said philippe, "or the little scared one? or crazy crusoe?"
"no, but maybe you put the bridge back for them," said nahnya.
"tie my hands!" cried philippe passionately, "and if they come, kill me!"
"come here," said nahnya coolly. "hold up your hands."
the half-breed obeyed, his eyes fixed ardently on nahnya.
"see if he have a gun," nahnya said to ralph.
philippe scowled furiously at the indignity, but kept his hands up. ralph quickly satisfied himself that the other was unarmed.
"good!" said nahnya, with an inscrutable face. she offered philippe her hand. "we will be friends. let us sit down and talk what to do."
"nahnya!" cried ralph jealously.
she bent the same towering look on him that had crushed the half-breed. "must i ask you when i make a friend?" she said.
ralph, forced to remember that he had brought all this trouble upon her, hung his head. they sat down to their council of war. there could be no question of who was the leader. the dark girl had the bearing of a queen who had risen above her human griefs and passions.
"where are they waiting?" she asked.
"they camp at the edge of the big woods beside the gulch," said philippe. "jim sholto is with them."
"so!" said nahnya.
kitty, hearing her father's name, came closer.
"jim is crazy when he find his daughter go," philippe continued. "he come after us in the dugout, and catch the raft. jim say to me for say to him," pointing at ralph, "if he bring jim's daughter back safe before to-night, jim not touch him. jim let him go in his boat if he want. joe mixer say them two can go all right. he don' care."
ralph expressed no great concern at this offer. "we can send her out to her father," he said. nahnya said nothing.
"jim send a letter," continued philippe. he produced a twisted bit of cotton on which some words were scrawled, and handed it to kitty. reading it, she burst into tears again.
"let them two go," said philippe, scowling at ralph. "i take them back."
"suppose i let them go," said nahnya inscrutably. "what we do after?"
philippe's eyes flashed, and his white teeth were bared. he hissed a single sentence in cree.
"you say you kill joe mixer and his men?" said nahnya coolly.
philippe, with a startled side-look at ralph, remonstrated with her anxiously.
"i tell you speak english," said nahnya calmly. "he is my friend as much as you."
ralph's sore and humbled heart took what comfort it might from this.
"well, it's easy," said philippe, with a shrug of bravado. "one is fat, and one is scare', and one is crazy. there was no man in our boat but me!"
"suppose you kill them," said nahnya, "what we do after?"
he answered in cree.
"you will stay here with me after?" she repeated.
ralph's face flushed. "nahnya——" he began hotly.
she ignored him. "there is no place here for you," she said to philippe, cold and accusatory as a high priestess. "you are half white; you are bad like a white man and a red man together! i hear them talk of you around the country. you make yourself crazy with whiskey, and fight for nothing at all. because you are strong you do what you like! you make trouble always where you go! you say you hate white men, but you can't stay away from them, because they have whiskey! you are not white, you are not red, you are nothing! there is no place for you here!"
all this was balm to ralph's jealousy. he looked on the ground to keep from showing any triumph over the discomfited young bravo.
after debating with herself, nahnya said to philippe, pointing down the slope: "you go down there." to ralph: "you wait here. i go by myself, and think what to do."
while ralph and the half-breed glowered at each other from twenty paces distance, and the heavy-eyed dispirited kitty crouched at ralph's elbow disregarded by all, nahnya went away and sat on the edge of the rocks, doubling her back, and digging her knuckles into her cheeks, while she struggled with her problem.
st. jean bateese, charley crossfox, ahmek, and myengeen approached over the meadow laden with the weapons, food, and blankets that nahnya had ordered them to bring. arriving at the foot of the slope, where the stream entered its rocky gulch, they cast down their packs, and with a glance at the sun, instinctively set about building a fire and preparing a meal. they looked with curious side-glances at the new stranger who had found his way into their domain.
after a long time nahnya arose. ralph read in her face that her mind was made up. he hastened to meet her, and philippe likewise came bounding up the slope. however, nahnya was not yet ready to divulge her plans. all she said was:
"let us eat."
her look was unfathomable. they were obliged to contain their impatience as best they could.
all sat in the grass at the foot of the hill. it was a strangely assorted company: kitty, ralph, nahnya, and philippe sat on one side of the fire, with the four indians facing them from the other. nahnya's face was smooth and composed, philippe looked sullen, ralph reckless and despairing, while kitty's lips trembled, and her eyes continually filled. the indian lads stared at the strangers with beady black eyes expressing a mixture of animal curiosity and human unconcern. no one of the company had any disposition to talk except st. jean bateese, who, with his native politeness, felt that it was incumbent upon him to tide the meal over pleasantly.
he meandered on in his soft and deprecating voice, illustrating his simple remarks with quaint gesticulation. it disturbed him not at all when no one listened. "there is a yellow ring around the sun to-day. to-morrow will be much rain at night. it is good. the berries will ripen good. this is a year of plenty for the people. when come the leaves fall the bear-folk will be fat and tender of the berries, with much thick, warm coats, i think. the bear he is lak a man, him lak to mak' fun when him feel good. one tam i see a bear play beside a stream. he is alone. he think nobody see him. he feel ver' good. he run and dance and fall down, and laugh, and turn over his head because he feel so good. i laugh me, till my ribs are sore!"
when nahnya arose from the grass they all followed suit. without any preamble she said quietly: "now i will tell you what i have thought."
all hung on her words except the two younger boys, who knew no english.
she darted an inexplicable look on ralph, and said, with odd abruptness: "ralph and kitty will go out to jim sholto."
ralph flushed painfully. "i will not go!" he cried. "send her! i know i've no right to dictate to you; i brought all this on you! but that gives me a right to stay here and help you out of it as much as i can! afterward i'll not trouble you. you needn't fear that. i'll go!"
nahnya lowered her head. "i sorry," she murmured. "you mus' go!"
ralph argued desperately against his own convictions. he had had such proof of nahnya's foresightedness that he could not but believe she was right now as she had been before. "i know i can't hold a gun," he cried, "but i can advise you! there are other things. if there is any risk to be taken it is my right! my life is worth nothing to me!"
nahnya turned from him sharply. she issued a quick order in cree, and ralph was seized by the three indian youths and philippe. he was helpless in their hands. at the sight of his pain-distorted face kitty screamed. nahnya spoke peremptorily, and thereafter they handled him more gently. nahnya herself kept her back turned to him. they wound a rope loosely about ralph's body, pinning both his arms. ralph drained the dregs of his bitter cup. he did not speak again.
"you take them out to jim sholto," nahnya said in english to philippe. "you tell jim sholto not to let him loose till he tak' him away from here, so he not make trouble."
after a pause she went on. "after, you go to joe mixer. you tell him it is too late to come in to-night. tell him come to-morrow. tell him annie crossfox will not fight."
philippe started to protest.
"it is my plan," said nahnya coolly. "i tell you all when it is time. you mus' stay in joe mixer's camp to-night. soon as light comes you mus' get up. you mus' leave their camp without wake them up. you mus' go up the gulch past the hole in the rock and around the bend. i wait for you there.
"start now!" she went on. "take a blanket and plenty ammunition and dry moose meat. cache it by the hole in the rock when you go out. bring it in the morning. you are going on a long trip."
philippe muttered sullenly in cree.
"i tell you in the morning," said nahnya coolly. "you don' have to go unless you want."
philippe shrugged. he turned to make ready. "i have a blanket at joe mixer's camp," he said.
"take mine," said nahnya. "leave your blanket lie there when you get up, so they not know right away that you gone away."
the preparations were quickly made. nahnya sent one of the boys back to the stream for a handful of gold dust, that philippe might have something to show for his journey. all this while ralph stood still and silent, looking straight before him. there was something proud in his abasement. his face was composed except for the eyes which glowed with a kind of exaltation of pain. he was thinking with a sombre satisfaction of the bottomless black hole that sucked in the stream entire. "a step off the bridge ends it!" he said to himself, and was impatient to get there.
as they turned to start down beside the stream, nahnya, alarmed by ralph's silence, stole a look into his face. to her foreseeing eyes his intention was written there as clearly as if he had proclaimed it. she became deathly pale.
"wait!" she said faintly. "i—i will go with you through the cave. wait for me inside." to ralph, she said, without looking at him: "i want speak with you."
a spasm of reawakened hope, doubt, pain convulsed his face. it was the pain that a man peacefully dead of asphyxiation feels when the reviving oxygen is forced into his lungs, dragging him back over the border. nevertheless, nahnya saw that he had given up his grim intention.
philippe, ralph, and kitty disappeared inside the cave. nahnya drew st. jean bateese a little way up the slope apart from the boys, and made him sit beside her at the edge of the rocks. "st. jean," she said quietly, "i go away now. i not come back."
the old man turned horrified eyes on her. he began to protest breathlessly. as he looked in her quiet, resolute face the uselessness of it was borne on him, and his quavering voice died away.
"it is the best to do," nahnya went on. "i think it all out. i am half white. i not belong here. in this place we want begin a new red race, strong and free. i am half white. look what trouble and danger i bring on you. i will go away. all shall go on as we plan."
"the white men will break in to-morrow!" wailed st. jean.
"the white men will never come in—this way," said nahnya from between firm lips. "i will fix that."
the tears coursed down st. jean's withered cheeks; he stroked nahnya's hand imploringly. "i am old!" he whimpered.
"you are wise!" said nahnya. "add your wisdom to charley's strength, and make him a man. he will be the head man when you are gone. make him know all the tales of our people, and all that they knew how to do, so nothing is forgotten. nobody mus' know but you that i not come back. let them look for me while the summer passes. by and by you can say you have a feeling i am dead. the young ones will forget!"
the old man moaned, and letting his head fall on his breast, wound his gnarled fingers in his sparse locks.
"the boys will see you," nahnya said sharply. "it is from you they learn how to bear pain!"
after a brief struggle with himself he lifted his head. the tears had ceased to flow, and the seamed face was composed into the ancient stoic mask of the race; the old hands still trembled piteously, and groped for nahnya's hand.
"so much we talk together," she went on, "you know all that is in my mind. when the spring come again, and the sap run in the trees, it is time for the children to marry. you shall marry them with a cross. my mot'er mus' teach ahahweh all there is to do when the time come for the girls to bear children.
"no man will ever come in or go out this way," nahnya continued. "if ever there is a famine, or you have great need to go out, there is another way. go across the divide into the valley to the north, and at the top of that valley is a little stream going out between the mountains. after many days' hard travel it will bring you to the stanley river. you mus' not tell charley of this way until he is wise, or until you feel yourself about to die. the knowledge of this way mus' be kept. many years from now more wives will be needed for the young men. the children of brothers and sisters must not marry. their children will not be strong."
"all shall be done as you say," murmured st. jean bateese.
nahnya dropped her hand over his. giving it a quick pressure, she sprang up, and climbed the hill until she was high enough to overlook the trees. here she turned. there was no mask on her face now. her eyes brooded with an infinite wistful yearning over the lovely panorama—the lake shimmering like a peacock's breast; the verdant, white-stemmed shores; the kingly mountains basking smokily under the westering sun. to the left were the tiny tepees with their delicate smoke spirals, and a suggestion of women's figures moving in front. nahnya turned with agitated hands, and, scrambling down over the rocks, disappeared within the cave.
the old man sat where she had left him, staring on the ground, a trembling hand outspread on either knee.
nahnya saw the yellow eye of philippe's torch gleaming far within the cavern, and she did not pause to light one for herself. she came upon the three waiting beside the hole that swallowed the stream. philippe sat on a jutting rock, smoking quietly; kitty was huddled on the sandy floor, and ralph was moving restlessly up and down.
hearing her coming, he sprang toward her, bound as he was, softly crying her name with a passionate relief and gladness in his voice. this was what kitty had to listen to. even in the uncertain light of the torch nahnya saw the yearning and the pain in his eyes. kitty had to see it, too. nahnya could not support the look.
"let us get on!" she said quickly.
philippe had already replaced the frail bridge over the hole. he crossed first, followed by kitty; then ralph, with nahnya watching him close. at the other side nahnya, stooping, affected to busy herself with the lacing of her moccasin. philippe and kitty passed ahead a little; ralph stuck close to nahnya. as the light went on he could not see what she was doing, but he heard the scrape of the logs as she pulled the little bridge toward her, and heard the structure knock against the rocky walls as it went down.
"nahnya!" he cried, amazed. "aren't you going back?"
"no," she murmured.
kitty's voice came back sharp and peremptory: "ralph!"
"i tell you soon," nahnya said swiftly. she hastened to catch up with the others.
arriving at length at the cleft whence a little gray daylight filtered into the cave, philippe quenched the torch in the loose sand of the floor. they started through the narrow place in the same order—philippe, then kitty. as ralph was about to follow nahnya laid a hand on his arm.
"i stay here," she murmured.
he flung about. "nahnya! is this—the end?" he faltered.
"listen!" she whispered swiftly. "when jim sholto get his daughter back, he not want stay in joe mixer's camp no more. he make a new camp, i think. maybe he go down by the river. but it is too late to start on the river to-night. he mus' camp. when they are asleep, you lie down a little way from them. lie in the trail where i can find you easy——"
"nahnya!"
"i will come, to-night," she whispered. "now, go; go quickly!"