Menotah Part 12

Along the east, red light was waving and breaking. Misty clouds crept over the forest, to burst in a soaring dew. Damp air crept from the bosom of the Saskatchewan and made the men s.h.i.+ver. The night was merging into a new day.

McAuliffe rubbed his hands briskly, and peered through the shadowy gloom.

'It's old whisky bottle, sure enough. He's going to tumble to his knee bones and lick my shoes.'

Lamont was gazing too--but not at the withered Chief. 'Who is the girl?'

he asked, with slow intonation.

The Factor laughed. 'She calls herself his daughter. How the shrivelled old hulk can claim to be her father, darned if I know. She's a daisy, I tell you. If she comes pleading for these fellows with her pretty face held up, and the tears s.h.i.+ning in her eyes--well, I shall likely make a fool of myself.'

'What are you going to do with them, anyhow?'

'Let 'em go, soon as they've sworn not to fight against us again.

They're all heathens here, so will stay by their word. I've just fixed them up to scare the old chap, and bring him to his senses. Here they come. You watch me give old whisky bottle a good rubbing down.'

Justin came up with the two old men, not speaking but occasionally tapping his rifle with a significant gesture, and grunting loudly.

Ahead, Menotah tripped gaily, full as ever of life and happiness, though she had that night seen her tribe more than decimated. She was safe enough in the hands of white men, who might be cruel, yet who always fell down to wors.h.i.+p beauty. Therefore she had twisted a fresh wreath among her black tresses, and volunteered to lead her father with Antoine to sue for pardon.

The girl's bright eyes were, however, quickly attracted and held.

Lamont, as he stood leaning against a fir, among the shadows slowly turning from black to grey, was a sight good to look upon. He was bareheaded, with the cool morning wind pa.s.sing through his wavy hair.

The excitement of the fight still lingered over his refined face, while a self-satisfied smile round the mouth and a certain tired look in the eyes were both singularly adapted to that clear style of masculine beauty he possessed in no ordinary degree.

To her it was as if the sun had just descended from heaven and taken the form of a man. For the first time in her short life she found herself conflicting with nervousness. This was of short duration, however. Then she gave him a smiling glance, lightly touching with dainty finger tips the bright wreath which twined along her thick fringe. He recalled the scene of the previous evening, and smiled back.

This was McAuliffe's opportunity for a.s.serting his power. Before him stood the Chief, pleading and gesticulating, throwing the blame upon the shoulders of the conveniently absent Riel and his a.s.sociates, making abundant promises for future obedience. Close by, old Antoine, the real sower of strife, stood wrapped to the chin in his yellow blanket, malevolent and silent.

The Factor listened with what he flattered himself was a frown of judicial severity on his genial red face. Then he made a lamentable effort to deliver himself of fulminations after the manner of the Chief's grandiloquence.

'You've just gone to work and made everlasting moon-heads of yourselves,' he thundered. 'You've tried to play monkey with the Company, and fix its representatives. You've gone a peg worse, for you've rebelled against the Great Mother.[1] She's not going to stand your fooling, I tell you.' He shook a great fist in the direction of the captives. 'Listen here, now. These fellows are all going to be shot under the hour. As you two are bosses, and might feel sort of hurt going along with the crowd, I'm going to let you down soft. All I'm going to do is just string you both up to the big fir 'way side of the fort. May you jump easy!' he concluded, with a dim sense of being called upon for commendatory words by way of peroration.

The Chief shook like a jelly-stone, while Antoine began to display feeble signs of interest. Then the former trembled to his knees and wailed, 'Great Sun, from whom we receive light and food, have pity upon your miserable servants. The wicked rebel Riel, who has dared to fight against the Great Mother, commanded us to rise and destroy, and who am I to disobey his word? Pardon us, friend of the Great Spirit. Then I and my children will ever be your slaves.'

'Can't do it,' said McAuliffe, winking towards Lamont.

We feared the vengeance of Riel,' continued the old man, his wrinkled hands beating upon the s.h.i.+ngle. 'His warriors are many, while the white men are few. Have we not received our punishment? The best of the tribe are already cold with death. To-night, round the tents will be heard the voice of weeping; maidens will mourn for lover or father; old men, who bear the scars of life trouble, will lay their white hair in the dirt when the pride of their age is borne to the tent. Instead of music and the dance, there will be beating of death knells, and the belabouring of b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Is not the white man satisfied with such vengeance?'

'Can't be helped,' said the Factor, stubbornly. 'n.o.body but the Great Mother can forgive you.'

'But has she not placed you here to rule over us? The white man is mighty. He can give pardon to his enemies without fear. The host lies in his path, and he breathes on them. Then no man may tell where that host is.'

McAuliffe had no wish to continue argument, as he was tired and hungry.

He had a.s.serted his dignity, which was all that could be required of him. So he replied, as sternly as natural advantages would allow, 'I've heard enough of your gas, and now I'll tell you what I've got a mind to do. I'll let these fellows go, after they've all sworn that they won't fight again against the Hudson's Bay Company. You two will want to chip in as well. There's generosity for you! Goldam! don't you think you'd have slipped out of Kiel's hands like that. He'd have hung first, and let you off afterwards.'

The Chief would have burst into triumphant thankfulness, but he was speedily choked off. 'Now then, I'm waiting here for your curses.

Justin, unfix the crowd.'

The half-breed pa.s.sed behind the captives, and pa.s.sed a knife blade across each binding rope. Then they fell into line, the Chief leading, and filed before the grinning Factor, each with right hand held aloft, and left spread upon the heart. They swore by Light, by Darkness; by Sun, by Moon; by the Great Spirit, the Totem[2] the River, never to fight against the Hudson's Bay Company, nor to break the laws of the Great Mother. McAuliffe knew that, if occasion arose, they would seal such an oath with their lives.

Permission was then granted the survivors to reclaim their weapons and carry away the dead.

'I've a good stock of blankets in the store,' said the Factor, grimly.

'Guess you may be wanting a few to wrap up the corpses with. The store'll be open about noon. Ten dollars' worth in trade'll buy them.

Oil for choice, as I'm short.'

It was remarkable what little concern Menotah showed for her father's fate. She certainly listened to the pleading, and had watched the Factor's glowing face with a satisfied smile, which betokened her certainty of the result. In her vivacious light-heartedness she imitated him as he launched his thunderbolts at her crushed parent. She drew up her slight figure with an injured dignity when he swelled with virtuous indignation; she frowned, though two sparkling eyes gave the lie to the soft forehead lines, when he attempted sternness; she threw back her little head and folded her arms in patience of resignation when he paused to hear the pet.i.tioner.

She was only an ignorant girl, whom Providence had strangely endowed with beauty. Her one idea was to charm. She could not know that across success lay the shadow of a life's sorrow.

Lamont stirred from the fir with a soft-voiced remark of flattery. The young man spoke the melodious Cree with native ease. By way of answer, Menotah plucked a berry from her hair, and threw it at him. It struck him on the nose, and she laughed. The tuneful sound was infectious, and the next minute he was at her side. The over-ripe berry had left a blood-like stain upon his fair skin. She turned impulsively, and wiped away the mark with a lingering, caressing touch of her small fingers.

It was then that Lamont's gaze fell to the other sh.o.r.e, and perceived in the raw light the altered position of the flags. The quick eyes, watching his movements, noticed the sudden start, so the red lips parted in a request for explanation.

He looked into her happy face, upturned trustfully. 'The flags!' he exclaimed, pointing.

'What! You have seen them before, haven't you?' she asked.

'They should be hanging from the top of the fir,' he explained.

'Oh! I did that,' cried Menotah, joyously.

'You!'

'I was pulling at the ropes--it was only for mischief--when they came tumbling down. They stopped half way, and then I left them alone.'

With careless hand and ignorant heart of happiness, she had set the sign of mourning for the dead.

'Have I done any harm?' she asked wistfully.

'Of course not,' he replied lightly. 'At least not with your hands.' He looked at her in a new manner. Again she felt that sudden strange timidity, which she did not know was the birth of love.

The dawn was scattering rays of light across forest and river. Red and golden bars stretched along the eastern sky, through which peeped a glory of the imprisoned sun. The birds shook the dew from their plumage, and flew from brake and bush in search of food; frogs sank in the slime of the muskegs and ceased their night song; locusts whirred sharply in the long gra.s.s; Nature shook off the pa.s.sionless mantle of sleep, and rose with the smile of opening flowers and balmy odour of earth's incense. It was the season of new life.

Wiping his ma.s.sive brow, McAuliffe came up to Lamont and took him by the shoulder. 'I'm proud of you, boy. You've put in good work to-night all right, and saved this old hulk from drifting into harbour. Yes, you're the best shot in the Dominion, sure as I'm the worst. Queer us two fellows should have come together, eh?'

'Extremes,' said the other, yawning. 'Anyway, you made the shot of the fight.'

McAuliffe puffed out his beard in a grim smile. 'Goldam! you mustn't spin shooting yarns before me now. I should chip in and cap the best.

But, say, where's Winton?'

'Haven't seen him.'

The Factor's satisfied smile disappeared. He called at Justin, who was launching the heavy York, with Indian a.s.sistance, but the only answer he received was a decided shake of the black hair.

'Pshaw! he'll be keeping the bottle company. Come away into the shack, and fetch him out. He's only a boy, and played out with the work.'

But Winton was not inside the hut. Then the Factor laughed gruffly.

'He's too good-natured a young fool for this world. Tell you what; he's gone to work and set out to find Peter, just to tell him to keep clear of me for a while, the dirty rascal. He'd always sort of stick up for him, when he thought I was laying it on too thick. Goldam! Winton's a fine boy. You believe me, Lamont.'