At once all talking ceased, and a deep silence pervaded the place, broken only by the crackling of the fire or the snarl of a dog outside.
Every eye was fixed upon the badge, the symbol of so much power, as the catechist held it in his hand and examined it carefully.
Curious though they were to know the meaning of it all, they no longer questioned the messenger. That it was of supreme importance, they were well aware, but it was a custom of long standing that when the chief sent his badge of office, summoning his people together, the courier must be as silent as the grave. Only from the head of the tribe must the information be imparted, and then in solemn council.
For some time Amos sat in deep thought, still holding the necklace in his hand. At length he arose, and addressing a few words to the hunters who were present, pa.s.sed with them out of the lodge. Going to the catechist"s temporary shack, the men conversed long and earnestly together, and finally decided upon a definite line of action.
Early next morning, long before the sun had reddened the eastern horizon, four stalwart natives, including Amos, left the camp and set out upon different trails. Days pa.s.sed by, and then bands of Indians began to straggle in. The nearest came first, erected their brush houses, and awaited the rest. At last the most remote arrived, and with them came Amos. Well had the couriers performed their task of gathering the hundreds of natives together for their march to Kla.s.san.
It was a quaint, motley crowd, which one day broke up camp and filed out upon the narrow, winding trail. St.u.r.dy hunters were there; buxom women, with bright-eyed pappooses strapped upon their broad backs; little children, youths and maidens, all with their burdens, according to their strength. Even the dogs, and they were almost numberless, carried their packs--from ten to thirty pounds. Little wonder that Amos looked upon the procession with a feeling of pride as it wound its way along sweeping valleys, through deep gorges and thick forests.
Were they not his own people, and he their chosen leader? Since the day of the wild storm, when Jennie had set forth from Kla.s.san on her important errand, the weather had undergone a marked change. A soft wind blew in from the south, laden with messages of Spring. The sun no longer skimmed the horizon for an hour or two and then disappeared. It now rode high, and poured its hot beams upon the great snowy waste.
The trees, touched by wind and sun, dropped their white mantle and aroused from their long slumber. The brooks and rivulets, locked for months in an icy embrace, babbled once again, as they poured their icy waters down to the lordly Yukon. The River Kas...o...b..gan to struggle in the throes of a mighty upheaval. As a rule, the ice wore gradually away, and pa.s.sed off too much decayed to cause any serious damage. But now it was different. The torrents of water hurled down from countless tributaries, large and small, lifted the solid ma.s.s and broke it into a million fragments. These, carried forward by the sheer force of the current, crashed and roared, tearing away thousands of tons of earth from the banks, and sc.r.a.ping the scarred rocks as clean as a bone.
Some were piled up in the wildest confusion on point or headland, others rushing down became jammed in the Black Canyon, the most dreaded spot in the river. Day by day the ma.s.s rose higher, straining and groaning to free itself from its narrow prison and the weight of ice and water behind. But still it held firm in the terrible, vise-like grip of those flinty walls, and might hold for days, flooding the valleys for miles back, and threatening all before it with certain destruction. Never in the memory of the oldest native had Spring leaped forward so early with unsheathed sword to deal such a sudden blow to its stern adversary, Winter.
The Indians marching to Kla.s.san felt the change most keenly as they plodded wearily onward, wading in water to their knees, or sinking at every step into the soft snow. It was a weary and dispirited band which one night drew near the village. Silently they came--this army of the mountains--like grim spectres out of the darkness. The foremost reached the mission house, and paused in amazement at beholding nothing there except a heap of ruins. Others came up and crowded around in silent wonder. Was this all that remained of their supplies, the mission house filled with goodly treasures, the pride of the band?
Then the truth flashed upon them--the white men had done it, had inflicted this base insult! From hundreds of lips at once arose a wild cry of sorrow and rage, which winging through the darkness, startled the miners from their sleep, and paled the cheeks of those gambling late in Perdue"s store.
[1] Literal translation:
"Close to Thee, my Father, Close to Thee.
Even the cross Raiseth me if Still my song shall be Close to Thee, my Father, Close to Thee."
CHAPTER XXI
CONSTANCE"S VENTURE
The night when the mission house was burned Caribou Sol slept on the floor in the Radhurst cabin. It was not an easy bed, but he did not mind.
"All the better fer bein" hard," he laughed, when Constance apologized for their poor accommodation. "I won"t sleep too sound, an" I"ll be able to keep an ear peeled fer them varmints."
Constance felt safer with the old man in the cabin, but still she could not sleep. What she had heard of the trail and the mystery regarding those letters kept her much perplexed. She thought, too, of Keith, out in the wild on that dreary night, and offered up a fervent prayer on his behalf. It was the first time that she had mentioned his name in her pet.i.tions, and a sweet, pleasant feeling stole into her heart.
At length the long dreary night wore away, and morning broke, flooding the whole land with joy and brightness after the furious storm. But among the miners the day brought nothing but gloom, the memory of the wild revel and deed of destruction being too plainly evident. They realized when it was too late how far they had been led by Pritchen, and they naturally felt very sore. Many were the furtive glances cast towards the smouldering ruins of the mission house, while visions of revenging natives filled their minds. For days Perdue"s store was packed with anxious men, discussing the affair in no uncertain language.
Caribou Sol carried the news to the Radhurst cabin.
"They"re "bout wild down yon," he said. "Fairly tumblin" over one another with excitement."
"Why, what"s the matter?" questioned Constance.
"Afeered of Injuns, that"s what"s the matter. An" they"ve good reason to fear, too. If somethin" isn"t done afore them natives come back, there"ll be lively times around these diggin"s."
"Can"t the matter be settled with the old chief?" queried Mr. Radhurst.
"Why not compensate him for the damage which has been done, and let him pacify his people?"
"They tried it, sir, but it wouldn"t work. They sent several men up to the old chap to have a big pow-wow. They carried presents, too, but he wouldn"t talk. He jist sat thar an" listened to "em, though I don"t believe he understood much. When they offered "im the presents, he shook his head an" pinted to the door, an" said somethin" in the Injun tongue which nearly scart "em out of their wits."
"But surely the Indians are Christian enough not to take any wild revenge," said Constance. "Even though they will no doubt be angry when they find what has been done, don"t you think that the teaching they have received for the past ten years will have some restraining influence?"
"I suggested that, Miss, down to the store, but I got only sneers fer my trouble. "Religion," says they with oaths, "it"s only skin deep.
When they"ve clothes to wear, plenty to eat, an" things go their way, they"re fine Christians then. But jist wait till ye see "em look upon yon ruins, an" ye"ll see how fer their religion goes. Our guns"ll have more influence then, than all their Bible pap."
""Ye may be right," says I; "but we"ll see.""
"Oh, if only Mr. Steadman could be here when they return!" exclaimed Constance. "I know he could handle them better than any one else."
"Ay, ay, miss, there"s no doubt about that. But, poor chap, I"m thinkin" he"ll have enough to attend to out on the hills by this time."
"Is there much talk about him at the store?" asked Mr. Radhurst.
"No, sir. He"s seldom mentioned. Once Pritchen made a remark about the trial, but, gittin" no encouragement, he shet up. The men are feelin" purty sore over the whole bizness. I begin to gather they think there"s somethin" crooked about the affair, though they say nothin" open. Pritchen seems to be the most unsettled one of the bunch. Not only is he dead scart of the Injuns, but he sees that the miners are turnin" agin "im fer gittin" "em into sich a sc.r.a.pe. The strange thing is that he"s been mighty friendly with me of late, an"
axed me a number of questions about you folk."
"About us?" cried Constance in surprise. "Why, what did he want to know?"
"Oh, nothin" much in perticular, only what yez were here fer, how long yez were goin" to stay, an" questions like that. I didn"t give "im much satisfaction, "cept that yez were lookin" fer a relative, a young chap that come up here some time ago."
"And what did he say?"
"Seemed kinder surprised an" mighty interested when I told "im yez were on the right track good an" hot; had discovered the lad"s fiddle an"
found out that the old chief has a picter of "im."
""Do they know whar the Injun got the picter?" says he, sudden like.
""Not yit," says I, "but I"m thinkin" they"ll find out."
""How?" says he.
""I don"t know," says I, "but sich things ginnerly come out in time."
At that he laughed as if it was a huge joke. He"s a deep one that, fer sure, an" sometimes I think he knows more about the whole bizness than he lets on. Thar"s somethin" fishy, too, about his havin" that book, an" knowin" about them letters on that rock. It"s mighty curious, an"
I can"t savvy it at all."
During the days that followed, Constance"s mind was seriously perplexed. She longed to go to the old chief, and question him about the picture, but dreaded the undertaking, knowing nothing of the native language. If only Old Pete would come, he would go, for she had great confidence in the worthy prospector. She wondered why the delay, for he had expected to return in a short time with a supply of moose-meat.
Then, the miners" fear concerning the arrival of the natives oppressed her heavily. For herself, she did not care so much, but when she looked upon her feeble father, and noticed his worn, brave face, her eyes would become moist. Often she would lie awake at night in her little room, thinking of it all. "What if the Indians should return to-night?" she said to herself, over and over and over again. "Would they know the difference between the innocent and the guilty, or would they serve all alike?"
At length the suspense became unbearable. Something must be done, or else she felt she would go crazy.
One bright afternoon, when her father was sleeping comfortably, she slipped out of the house and hurried down the narrow path to the Indian trail. Up this latter she quickly moved, fearful lest the miners should see her. Reaching the top, she looked back, and breathed a sight of relief, for not a person was in sight. Had she known, however, that from a small cabin window, keen, cruel eyes were watching her every movement, and a cunning mind was revolving the purpose of her visit, she would have hesitated before advancing further.
Constance"s heart beat fast as she knocked upon the door of the chief"s lodge. A voice sounded within, but what it meant she could not tell.
Nevertheless, she opened the door and entered. At first she could see very little, but her eyes becoming accustomed to the change, she at length observed the chief sitting upon the floor, while his wife sat a little distance away, busily engaged upon some beaded work.
A look of surprise pa.s.sed over the chief"s face when he saw the fair visitor standing before him. Then his old wrinkled visage broke into a smile, and he reached out a thin, scrawny hand in welcome.