The Gaunt Gray Wolf. Dillon Wallace

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СКАЧАТЬ in a St. Johns bank, and his thrifty old friend, Douglas Campbell, had suggested that it might be invested to advantage in a small trading venture.

      "Bob can lay his trails this winter," said Douglas, "an' next year take some tradin' goods in. Knowin' th' Nascaupee an' Mountaineer Injuns, an' a bit o' their lingo, he'll be able t' do a snug bit o' tradin' with un, along with his trappin'. An' if you opens a little store here at th' Bight next summer, th' rest of you can 'tend un when Bob's inside trappin'.

      "I were thinkin', too," said Douglas, "'twould be fine t' send Emily t' St. Johns t' school th' winter, an' she'd learn t' keep th' books. She's a smart lass, an' she'd learn, now, in a winter or two winters, whatever, an' 'twould pay–an' do th' lass a wonderful lot o' good. I'm wantin' a trip t' St. Johns, an' I'd take she on th' mail boat."

      There were many long discussions before it was finally decided that Bob should launch upon the venture. Bob's mother opposed it. The terrible winter of suspense when Bob, lost in the snow, was given up for dead, was still a vivid remembrance to her. She recalled those tedious months of grief as one recalls a horrid nightmare, and she declared that another such winter, particularly if she were to be deprived of Emily's society, would be unendurable.

      But her objections were finally overcome. Emily was to go to school and it was decided Bob should establish two new trails. One of these he was to hunt himself, the other one Ed Matheson had agreed to hunt on a profit-sharing basis. Dick Blake and Bill Campbell–a son of Douglas Campbell–were to occupy adjoining trails, and the four to work more or less in conjunction with one another.

      Shad and Emily became fast friends at once. On pleasant afternoons she would lead him away to explore the surrounding woods in search of wild flowers, and after supper he would tell her fairy tales from Grimm, but best of all she liked his stories from Greek and Roman mythology.

      She, and the whole family, indeed, listened with rapt attention when Shad related how Chronos attacked Uranos with a sickle, wounding and driving Uranos from his throne; how from some of the drops that fell from Uranos's wounds sprang giants, the forefathers of the wild Indians; how from still other drops came the swift-footed Furies–the three Erinnyes–who punished those who did wrong, and were the dread of the wicked.

      Thus the days passed quickly and pleasantly–even the occasional foggy or rainy days, when Bob and his father worked indoors, and Bob, at Emily's request, recounted very modestly his own adventures. Emily particularly liked to have Bob tell of Ma-ni-ka-wan, an Indian maiden who nursed him back to health after Sish-e-ta-ku-shin and Moo-koo-mahn, Manikawan's father and brother, had found him unconscious in the snow and carried him to their skin wigwam.

      "Th' Nascaupees was rare kind t' me," Bob explained to Shad. "They made me one o' th' tribe, Sishetakushin calls me his son, an' they gives me an Indian name meanin' in our talk 'White Brother o' th' Snow.' They were thinkin' I'd stop with un, an' they were wonderful sorry when I leaves un t' come home with th' huskies. Manikawan were a pretty maid–as pretty as ever I see."

      "Were she as pretty as Bessie, now?" asked Emily slyly.

      "Now, Emily, dear, don't go teasin' Bob," warned Mrs. Gray.

      "I were just askin' he," said Emily; "he's so wonderful fond o' Bessie."

      "O' course he's fond o' Bessie, and so be all of us. Emily's speakin' o' Bessie Black, sir," Mrs. Gray explained, to Shad. "She's Tom Black's lass. Tom is th' factor's man over t' th' post, an' th' Blacks be great friends of ours. Bessie's but a young maid–a year younger'n Bob. You'll see th' Blacks when you goes over t' th' post with Bob."

      "I'm immensely interested in your Indian friends," said Shad. "Manikawan was a little brick, and the Nascaupees bully good fellows. Will there be a chance of my meeting them?"

      "No, they camps on lakes down t' th' n'uth'ard in summer," Bob explained. "If you was stayin' th' winter, now, you'd see un."

      "I'm almost persuaded to remain on the trails with you all winter, and see something of the life of real, uncivilised Indians," asserted Shad. "I would stay if it were not for college."

      "'Twould be fine t' have you, now!" exclaimed Bob enthusiastically. "But," he added doubtfully, "I'm fearin' you'd find th' winter wonderful cold, an' th' tilts lonesome places t' stop in, not bein' used to un."

      "An' your mother would be worryin' about you; now, wouldn't she?" suggested Mrs. Gray.

      "My mother died when I was a little boy, and Father died two years ago," said Shad. "I have one sister, but she learned long ago that I could take care of myself."

      "Is she a little sister?" asked Emily.

      "Oh, no," said Shad, "she's a big, married sister, and has a little girl of her own nearly as old as you are."

      "'Twould be grand t' have you stay," Bob again suggested.

      "Thank you, and it would be grand to stay, I'm sure, but," said Shad regretfully, "I can't do it. I must go back to college."

      At length Bob announced one day that his outfit was completed and that all was in readiness, save a few incidentals to be purchased at the Hudson's Bay Company's trading post, fifteen miles across the bay. Shad, too, found it necessary to make some purchases preparatory to his journey to the interior, and the following morning the two sailed away in Bob's dory.

      Tom Black, the post servant, welcomed them as they stepped ashore on the sandy beach below the post, and with him was Bob's old friend, Douglas Campbell, who stated that he had arrived at the post an hour earlier.

      "I'm glad you come over, Bob," said he, as the four walked up toward Black's cabin. "When I comes t' th' post this mornin', I were thinkin' t' go back t' Kenemish by way of Wolf Bight t' have a talk with you, but your comin' saves me th' cruise. Set down here, now, a bit, till dinner's ready. I wants t' hear your plans for th' trails."

      And while Shad was carried off by Tom to meet Mr. McDonald, the factor, Douglas and Bob seated themselves upon a bench before the cabin and discussed the proposed new trails.

      "Now, Bob, 'tis this I were wantin' t' say to you, an' I weren't wantin' t' say it when your mother'd hear, an' set her worryn'," said Douglas finally. "Don't forget you're goin' where no white trapper was ever goin' before. You'll have to be a wonderful sight more careful than on th' Big Hill trail. Last year when I goes on th' Big Hill trail some Mingen Injuns come t' th' last tilt an' made some trouble, an' told me they'd never let a white trapper hunt th' country beyond th' Big Hill trail, an' you plans t' go, Bob. Now, if you works west'ard of a line from th' last tilt o' th' Big Hill trail an' th' river, be wonderful careful o' th' Mingens. They's a bad lot of Injuns."

      "I'll be careful, sir," promised Bob, adding, however, "I'm not fearin' th' Injuns, though."

      "You never knows what an Injun's goin' t' do," cautioned Douglas. "You was findin' th' Nascaupees friendly, but th' Mingens is different."

      Presently Tom joined them and invited them to dinner in the crudely furnished but spotlessly clean living-room of the cabin. Mrs. Black, a stout, motherly woman, had countless questions to ask of Douglas and Bob as to how "th' folks t' home" fared, while she and her daughter Bessie served the meal.

      Shad dined with Mr. McDonald, but directly after dinner joined Bob while they made their purchases in the shop, and prepared for immediate departure to Wolf Bight. When all was ready, Bob left Shad waiting at the boat while he returned to the cabin to say goodbye to Mrs. Black and Bessie.

      Bessie followed him to the door, and when they were outside where none could see she drew from beneath her apron a buckskin cartridge pouch, upon which she had neatly worked СКАЧАТЬ