CHAPTER IV
KEEKO
Beyond the river, the trees came down to the water's edge, where rootslay bare to the lap of the stream which frothed about them. Theyshadowed the wide waters with a reflection of their own dark mystery.They helped to close in the world about old Fort Duggan, deepening thegloom of its aged walls, and serving to aggravate the shadow ofsuperstition with which the native mind surrounded it.
The hills rose up in every direction. They were clothed with forestswhose silence only yielded to crude sounds possessing no visible source.The river seemed to drive its way through invisible passes. It appearedout of a barrier of woodlands, backed by a rampart of seeminglyimpassable hills, and vanished again in a similar opposite direction.Between these points it lay there, a broad, sluggish stretch of waterupon which the old fort looked down from the rising foreshore.
The benighted instincts of the Shaunekuks know no half measure. FortDuggan to them was the gateway of Unaga, which was the home of all EvilSpirits. So they looked upon the fort without favour, and left itseverely alone.
But now all that was changed. Fort Duggan was no longer silent, still,the shadowed abode of evil spirits. Crazy white folks had come and takenpossession of it. They had dared the wrath of the Evil One, and the oldplace rang with the echo of many voices.
For awhile these primitive folk had looked on in silence. They wondered.They thought of the Evil One and waited for the blow to fall. But as theweeks and months went by without the looked-for retribution they beganto take heart and give rein to a curiosity they could no longer resist.Who were these folk? Why had they come? But most important of all, whathad they brought with them?
They found a white man and two white women. They found several duskycreatures like themselves, only of different build. Oh, yes, they wereIndians, Northern Indians, but they were foreigners. They were slim,tough creatures who gazed in silent contempt upon the undersized peoplewho came to observe them.
But the Shaunekuks were not concerned deeply with the men of their owncolour. It was the white man and the white women who chiefly arousedtheir curiosity. Years of tradition warned them that the coming of thewhite man was by no means necessarily an unmixed blessing, and so theyhad doubts, very grave doubts.
Perhaps the white man understood. Anyway he promptly took steps. Heinvited them to feast their eyes upon the treasures he had brought withhim from far distant lands. He assured them that he had come to giveaway all these splendid things in exchange for the furs, which onlygreat hunters like the Shaunekuks knew how to obtain.
Capitulation was instant. The Indians forthwith held a council of theirwise men, and set about inundating the fort with priceless furs. So ithad gone on ever since. In a year the white man was complete master ofthe situation. In less than two years he had assumed the office ofdictator.
The man Nicol knew his work. He had been sent there by Lorson Harris,which was sufficient guarantee. None knew it better. Having establishedin the Indian mind the necessity for his existence amongst them, heexploited the position to its extreme limits. Through methods which knewno scruple he usurped the authority of the wise men, or adapted it tohis own uses. He saw to it that the generosity of his original tradingwas swiftly reduced to the bare bone of extortion. And the Indianssubmitted. The white man had come in the midst of their darkness and hadgiven them light, at least he had dazzled their eyes, and excited theircupidity by his display of trade. Furs--furs. They could always obtainfurs. If he were foolish enough to exchange simple furs for beautifulbeads, and blankets, and tobacco, and essences, and coloured prints, andeven fire-water, well, that was his lookout. At least they were not thefools.
With the coming of the white man and the two white women with theirseveral Indian followers the life of the Shaunekuks at Fort Duggan wascompletely revolutionized. Before the foolish Indians knew what washappening they were captured body and soul. They quickly learned thatthe white man was to be feared rather than loved. They realized it wasbetter to risk the anger of the Evil Spirits of Unaga rather than tooffend him. So they yielded to the course which they hoped would affordthem the greatest benefit. It was no less than submitting to anunacknowledged slavery.
It was perhaps a dangerous condition, a situation full of risk for thewhite man and all his people, should his force and ruthlessness weakeneven for one moment. But Nicol was too widely experienced, too naturallycut out for his work to fall for weakness. He treated the Indian as hewould treat a trail dog, as a savage beast to be beaten down to themaster will, and kept alive only as long as it yielded return for theclemency.
For the women folk of this man the benighted Indians had little concern.One of them was sick, which made her a creature of even lessconsequence. The other, the one who called herself Keeko, she seemed tolive her own life regardless of the man, regardless of everybody exceptthe sick woman, who was her mother. She made the summer trail afterpelts and so trespassed upon what the Indians regarded as their rights,but since the white man seemed to approve there was little to be said.
Just now the spring freshet had subsided, which meant that the river wasclear of ice. Keeko was at the landing preparing for the trail. She wasthere with her Indians looking on while the laden canoes received theirfinal lashings, and the joy of the open season was surging in her richyoung veins.
Keeko was more than a little tall. She was as graceful as a young fawnin her suit of beaded buckskin. She was as slim as a well-grown boy inher mannish suit, with muscles of steel under flesh of velvet softness.Reliance and purpose, and the joy of living, looked out of herbeautiful, deeply fringed eyes. Her ripe lips and firm chin were as fullof decision as the oval of her wholesomely tanned cheeks was full ofgirlish beauty.
An Indian looked up quickly at the sound of her keen tone of authority.His face was crumpled and scored with advancing years, and the mercilessblast of the northern winter trail. But for all his years he was hard asnails.
"We'll pull out after we've eaten," cried the girl. "We're days late.Get Snake Foot, and don't leave the outfit unguarded. Guess we're notyearning for the scalliwag Shaunekuks thieving around. It'll be twohours. The sun'll be shining there," she pointed, indicating an immensebank of forest trees. "Where's Med'cine Charlie? By the teepees of theShaunekuks? He's most generally that way."
Little One Man nodded, and grinned in his crumpled way.
"Oh, yes," he said. "But I get 'em."
"Good. See to it." The girl nodded. "Don't forget. Two hours. The sun onthe water. I come."
Keeko turned away up the rising foreshore in the direction of the long,low building of the fort.
Once she was beyond the observation of the Indian's keen eyes her wholeexpression underwent a change. The light died out of her eyes and a deepanxiety replaced it. She was torn by conflicting feelings. The desire ofthe trail had grown to a passion. The immense solitudes of the greatforests were the paradise she dreamed of during the long dark days ofwinter. But deep in her heart there were other feelings that preoccupiedher no less.
Her mother was sick, sick to death with the ravages of consumption, on abed from which she would only be removed for a grave somewhere in theshadows of the surrounding woods. And she loved her mother. She lovedher mother with a passionate devotion.
It was the thought of all that might happen during her prolonged absencethat robbed Keeko's eyes of their buoyant light and happy smile.But--what could she do? She must go. She knew she must go. It had allbeen arranged between her and her mother. And with each season her workbecame more urgent.
As she passed up to the fort her mind had leapt back to the early dayswhen she had reached full young womanhood. And a scene that lived in hermemory came back again to urge her, as it never failed to urge her atsuch moments.
It was one of the many times that her mother had hovered at the brink ofthe grave. She and her step-father had shared the watch at the sick-bed.Up till that time the man had displayed no regard for herself but thetreatment he would bestow upon an unwelcome burden on his life. T
herehad been a bitter antagonism on his part, an antagonism that suggestedpositive hatred. But while they sat watching the closed, sunken eyes andwaxen features of her mother, as she lay gasping in what seemed to bethe last throes before collapse, an amazing change seemed to take placein him. His whole attitude towards herself appeared to alter. It becameimpressive in its kindliness and solicitude. He seemed suddenly to havebecome far more tenderly thoughtful for her welfare than for the wifewho lay dying before his eyes. And when he spoke--But his words andtones did more than disturb her. It was at the sound of them that thealmost dead eyes of her mother opened wide and turned a dreadful stareupon him. For minutes it seemed they stared while the ashen lipsremained silent, unmoving. It was painful, dreadful. It was the man,who, at last, broke the horror of it all. He rose abruptly, silentlyfrom his chair and passed out of the room.
Then had come the great change. The moment the man had passed beyond thedoor her mother stirred. She seemed to become feverishly alive in amanner suggesting the victory of sheer will over a half dead body. Sheturned on her bed, and a warm light flooded her eyes.
"Don't _you_ go, child," she had gasped eagerly. "I'm not dead yet and Idon't intend to die. I'm going to live long enough to fool him. Say,you've got to quit nursing me. I tell you I shan't die--yet. A squaw cando all I need. You reckon to help me. I know. You're a good girl. You'retoo good to be--If you reckon to help me there's just one way. Get out.Get right out. Learn to help yourself. Get out into the open. It's onlythe woods, and the trail, and the Northern world'll teach you the sameas they taught your father. You've got to get so you can face life--whenthe time comes around--alone. Learn to handle a gun--and use it. Learnto face men, and hold them in the place that belongs them, whetherthey're Indians or white. I'll die later on. But I won't die till I'mready. And that'll only be when I see you fit to stand alone. Then I'llbe glad, and I'll die easy."
The natural protest had promptly risen to the girl's lips.
"But I'll have Father," she cried. "Please, please let me help you,Mother dear. I want to make you happy, and comfortable, and better. Idon't want you to die, and----"
But her plea was never completed. A hard, cold light suddenly leapt intothe sick woman's haggard eyes.
"Don't mention your father to me," she cried fiercely, "He's no fatherof yours. Cut the thought of his help right out of your mind. Forget it,and work--work as I say. Work and learn, so you don't need to fear manor--devil."
It was more than three years ago since the scene occurred. Her motherhad said she would live. She had lived, and was still dragging on a nowcompletely bedridden life. She lived, and, to the girl, it sometimesseemed that it was only the fierce purpose in her mind that kept heralive.
From that time, despite all other inclination, Keeko had obeyed. She hadplunged herself into the battle of the Northland which only the hardiestcould hope to survive. Even the winter trail she had daredand--conquered. Oh, yes. She had obeyed and she had realized hermother's commands to the letter. She had reached that point now whenshe feared neither man nor--devil.
But for all her ability the whole of Keeko's equipment was only asplendid veneer. Under it all she remained the simple-hearted girl, theloyally devoted daughter. Her mother was still her first concern, aconcern that haunted her in the far distant woods, and on the waters ofthe river, in storm and sunshine alike, and amidst the snows of thewinter trail. Each time she returned to her home she feared to find hermother gone, flown to that rest from which there was no returning. And,as the seasons passed her fears only increased. Her mother fought with apassion of bitter purpose, but she was struggling against anirresistible foe.
It was this that troubled Keeko now. It was the thought of nearly sixmonths' absence, and that which she might return to, that robbed hereyes of their smiling light. She must go, she knew. It was her mother'swill. But she was loth, bitterly loth.
She passed within the low doorway of the fort, and approached hermother's room. The place was all very crude. Its atmosphere lacked allsense of comfort. It was all makeshift, and the stern days of the oldbuccaneers frowned out of every shadowed corner. Keeko had neither timenor inclination to brighten the place to which her step-father's planshad brought them. And her mother--? Her mother was indifferent to allbut the purpose which seemed to keep her hovering upon the brink of thegrave.
When Keeko entered the sick room the attendant squaw gladly enoughdeparted to the sunlight outside. And, left alone, the girl prepared totake her customary farewell. The eyes of the sick woman lit at the sightwhich was her only remaining joy in life. But the tone of her voiceretained its privileged quality of complaint.
"You're pulling out?" she demanded, in a low, husky voice, in whichthere was always a gasp. "I was hoping you'd be around earlier, seeingyou won't get back till fall."
The girl understood. She did not take up the challenge.
"I had to fix the outfit right, Mother," she said. "You can't even relyon Little One Man. But I guess it's all fixed now. How are you feeling?Better? You're looking----"
"You don't need to ask fool questions. You don't need to worry how Ilook. It's you we need to think for. How many boys are you taking?"
"Three. Little One Man, Snake Foot, and Med'cine Charlie. They're all Ineed. Snake Foot and Charlie with the big canoe and outfit, and LittleOne Man and me with the other. We're out after a big bunch of pelts."
The sick woman's eyes shone prompt approval, for all the fixity of theirregard.
"See and get them. You've put your cash away. You've hidden it close. Imean the cash for your trade at Seal Bay. That way you'll be fixed allright. Keep it close, child. This year you need a good haul. Yes, yes.And trade it, and hide the cash. Always hide your money. How much haveyou got?"
"Nearly two thousand dollars."
"Not enough. Not enough. You need more. See you get it this year."
The mother broke off in a spasm of coughing, and Keeko stood helplessand fearing until the fit had passed.
The tragedy of it all was terrible to the girl who had to look on soutterly helpless. The convulsed figure beneath the coloured blankets wassimply skin and bone. The alabaster of the sunken cheeks was untouchedby any hectic display. The ravages of the consumption were too faradvanced for that. The wreck was terrible, and the dreadful cough seemedto be tearing the last remaining life out of the poor soul's body.
"Well, don't stand around, child," the sick woman gasped, after aprolonged struggle for breath. "You're going to eat. I can smell thecooking. Well, go and eat. It's good to be able to. You've got to getanother three thousand dollars. You can get them out of your furs--ifyou've any luck. Maybe this year. Don't worry for me. I'll die when Ifeel like it, but not before. God bless you, child--as you deserve. Youneedn't come around again before you pull out. It's time wasted, andyou've none to spare. Good-bye. You can send Lu-cana in to me again whenyou go."
The straining eyes closed as though to shut out sight of the going ofthe child who was all that was left to the remnant of a mother heart.And Keeko knew that the dismissal must be accepted. There could be notender farewell. Her mother forbade it. Yet the girl was longing tonurse and caress the suffering creature in her arms. But she understood.Her mother refused everything for herself in a burning fever of urgency.There was time for nothing--nothing but that purpose which she had sether heart on.
Keeko obeyed. She passed out of the room at once.
Her meal was awaiting her, a rough, plain meal prepared by the squaw ofLittle One Man. She partook of it in the kitchen, the long, dark oldhallplace that had probably served as some sort of barracks for thedisreputable pirates of centuries ago. She ate with a healthy appetite,and some half hour later quit the shadows of the gloomy fort for thebright sunlight of a spring noon.
The hour of her departure was nearing, and Keeko glanced down at thelanding. Her canoes lay there at their moorings, but----
Her orders had been disobeyed! The canoes were deserted. Little One Manwas nowhere to be seen. Neither were the other b
oys. A quick frown ofdispleasure darkened her pretty face, and she moved down to the water'sedge almost at a run.
But her journey was interrupted. It was the sound of a familiar, angryvoice, harsh, furious. It came from behind her, somewhere behind thefort. The words were indistinguishable in their violence, but, as shelistened, there came another sound with which she was all too familiar.It was the sickening flog of a rawhide quirt on a human body. It was herstep-father flogging an Indian, with all the brutality of hisungovernable temper.
Keeko's eyes flashed in the direction of the canoes. Inspiration leapt.Where were _her_ boys? They had no concern with the work of the fort.They were _hers_. Something of the teachings and instincts of the lifeshe had learned stirred her to action. Light as a deer she ran to thelanding, and snatched up a rifle lying in one of the boats. It was theinstinct of self-preservation. But it was also an expression of herdetermination to enforce her rights--if need be.
There was no hesitation. Keeko had learned so much in the past threeyears. She knew the man who was her step-father. She knew his brutalityto Indians, and she suspected more. She hated the thought in her mindnow. She even feared it. But she was determined.
She was late by the seconds it had taken her to reach the spot. It was aspot she knew well enough. A single tree standing by itself just behindthe fort. She found a group of Indians gathered about it looking on inapparent indifference. Above their heads, in their midst, she beheldthe rise and fall of a heavy quirt.
Into the midst of this gathering she thrust her way. And, in a moment,her worst suspicions were realized. Her boy, Snake Foot, was bound tothe tree-trunk. Bared to the waist, cowering but silent, he wasshrinking under the cruel blows of the quirt. Nicol, his dark eyesblazing with a merciless fury, was flinging every ounce of his strengthinto each blow of the terrible weapon in his hand. Keeko's horrifiedeyes missed nothing. She saw that Little One Man and Med'cine Charliewere amongst the crowd. It was all she needed.
In a moment she had flung herself in front of her Indian's bleedingbody, and whether by design or chance the muzzle of her rifle waspointing and covering her step-father.
Her eyes were on his inflamed face. They were confronting him without asign of fear or any other emotion.
"Don't let that quirt fall on me!" she cried. "I want Snake Foot rightnow, and I'm going to have him. Little One Man," she went on, withoutremoving her eyes from the furious face of the man still flourishing hisquirt aloft, "just cut him adrift right away, and hustle down to thelanding. We're going to pull out--sharp."
But Nicol had recovered from his surprise, and his mad fury suddenlyleapt into full flood again.
"Stand aside, girl!" he roared violently. "This swine refused to obey myorders and I'm going to teach him--and anyone else--who's master here.Get out of my way," he bellowed with an ominous threat of the quirt.
Keeko stood her ground. Her two boys had closed in towards her. Theywere on either side of her, and a wicked gleam lit the eyes of LittleOne Man as he watched the man with his upraised weapon. Keeko knew herstep-father had been drinking. The signs were plain enough to her. Theywere all too familiar. But there was no yielding in her, whatever theconsequences of her act.
"Cut him adrift," she cried sharply, to the men beside her. Then toNicol her tone was only a shade less commanding. "Let that quirt touchme, and I won't answer for the consequences. Guess you've no right tothrash my boy, and I'm right here to see you quit. Think it over," sheadded, and, with her last word, there was a movement of her rifle whichadded to its aggression.
Just for a moment it looked as though a clash was inevitable. Just for amoment it seemed as if the man's half-drunken madness was about to drivehim to extremes. But the girl's cool nerve, or more probably, perhaps,the presence of her rifle, seemed to have a sobering effect. There wasthe snick of Little One Man's razor-like knife as he released his boundcomrade from the flogging post, then Nicol, with a filthy oath, flunghis quirt on the ground, and, turning, thrust his way through the crowd,and strode back to the fort.
Five minutes later Keeko was down at the landing. She was standinglooking on while her Indians cast off the moorings of the canoes. Shewas shaking from head to foot. But not a sign of her weakness waspermitted in the sharp, clear orders she flung at her crew.
The Heart of Unaga Page 19
