CHAPTER V
THE MOON OF FLOWERS
As the grim fastnesses reaching away to the north and east and south inlimitless, ice-locked solitude, had wakened to the magic touch ofspring, so the little post at Whale River had quickened with life at theadvent of June with the spring trade. For weeks, before the return ofMarcel, the canoes of the Crees had been coming in daily from wintertrapping grounds in far valleys. Around the tepees, which dotted thepost clearing like mushrooms, groups of dark-skinned women, headswrapped in gaudy shawls, laughed and gossiped, while the shrill voicesof romping children filled the air, for the lean moons of the long snowshad passed and the soft days returned.
Swart hunters from Lac d'Iberville, half-breed Crees from the WhisperingHills and the Little Whale watershed, belted with colored Companysashes, wearing beaded leggings and moccasins, smoked and talked of thetrade with wild _voyageurs_ from Lac Bienville, the Lakes of the Winds,and the Starving River headwaters in the caribou barrens. From a hundredunmapped valleys they had journeyed to the Bay to trade their fox andlynx, their mink and fisher and marten, for the goods of the Company.
Below, along the beach, Huskies from Richmond Gulf and the north coast,from the White Bear and the Sleeping Islands, who had brought ivory ofthe walrus, pelts of the white fox, seal, and polar bear, and sealskinboots, which only their women possess the art of making waterproof, werecamped in low skin tepees, their priceless dogs tied up and underconstant guard. But while the camp of the Esquimos was a bedlam of noisyhuskies, the quarters of the Crees in the post clearing, formerlyoverrun by brawling sled-dogs, were now a place of peace. The plague ofthe previous summer had left the Indians but a scattering of curs.
Carrying his fur-pack and outfit to the Mission, Marcel sought thetrade-house. Passing the tepees of the Crees, he was forced to stop andreceive the congratulations of the admiring hunters on his safe returnfrom his "_longue traverse_" through the land of demons, which had beenthe gossip of the post since the arrival of Joe and Antoine.
When his partners appeared, to stare in amazement at the man they hadannounced as dead, Jean made them wince as he gripped their hands.
"Bo'-jo', Joe! Bo'-jo', Antoine!" he laughed. "You see de Windigo foun'Jean Marcel too tough to eat! He ees good fr'en' to me now. De Huskyt'ink me devil too."
"I nevaire t'ink to see you alive at Whale Riviere, Jean Marcel!" criedthe delighted Antoine.
"Did you get de dog?" asked the practical Piquet.
"Onlee one petite pup; de Husky would not trade." Then Jean hurriedlydescribed his weeks on the Salmon.
As he entered the door of the long trade-house he was seized by a giantCompany man.
"By Gar! Jean Marcel!" cried Jules Duroc, his swart face lighting withjoy as he crushed the wanderer in a bear hug. "We t'ink you sure starveout een de bush! You fin' de Beeg Salmon headwater? You see de Windigo?"
"Oui, I fin' de riviere for sure, Jules; but de Windigo he scared of me.I tell heem Jean Marcel ees fr'en' of Jules Duroc."
The laughter in the doorway drew the attention of two men descending theladder from the fur-loft.
"Well, as I live, Jean Marcel!" cried Colin Gillies, the factor, and hewrung the hand of the son of his old head man until Marcel grimaced withpain.
"You're sure good for sore eyes, Jean; we were about giving you up!"added Andrew McCain, the clerk, seizing Jean's free hand.
"Bon jour, M'sieu Gillies! Bon jour, Andrew! Dey say I leeve my bones onde Beeg Salmon; de Husky shoot at me; but--Tiens! I am here!"
"What? You had trouble with the Huskies?"
"Oui, dey t'o't I was a devil, because I come down riviere from deBad-Lands, but Kovik, he talk to dem an' I stay. Tell dem I come fromWhale Riviere. Den dey get mad because I feesh salmon at de rapide andmak' trouble; and poor Kovik, he tell dem dat I am bad spirit, so I canget away."
Jean laughed heartily at the memory of Kovik's dilemma. "Dey mus' t'inkpoor Kovik ees damn liar by dees tam." Then he added soberly, "But hesave my life."
Seated with his three friends, Marcel told of his struggle to reach theSalmon, his meeting with the Esquimos, and escape with his dog.
"So you got a dog after all, Jean? But you were crazy to take a chancewith those Huskies; they won't stand trespassing on their fisheries andthey were shy of you because you came from the headwaters. I'm glad youdidn't kill that pair, much as they deserved it. It would have madetrouble later."
"Good old Kovik! We won't forget him," added McCain.
"No, that we will not," agreed Gillies. "He thought a lot of yourfather, Jean."
"Wal," said Jean proudly, "I weel have good dog-team een two year. Datpup, she ees wort' all de work an' trouble to get her."
"You're lucky," said Gillies. "It's mighty hard on our hunters not tohave good dogs, but they couldn't pay the Huskies' price. The Crees onlytook three for breeding purposes, and six cost us a thousand in trade.The rest were taken to Fort George and East Main."
The days at the Mission with Pere Breton and Julie raced by--hours ofunalloyed happiness for Jean after ten months in the "bush." Not a daypassed that did not find him romping with the great puppy who hadlearned to gaze at her tall master through slant eyes eloquent withlove. Each morning when he visited the Mission fish nets and his own,the puppy rode in the bow of the canoe. Each afternoon, oftenaccompanied by Julie Breton, they went for a run up the river shore. Manand dog were inseparable.
When he heard that Kovik had arrived, Jean brought Fleur down to theshore, to find the family absent from their lodge. To Marcel'samazement, his puppy at first failed to recognize her brothers, who,yelping madly, rushed her in a mass.
With flattened ears, and mane stiffened on neck and back, their doughtysister met them half-way. Bowling one over, she shouldered another tothe ground, where she threatened him with a fierce display of teeth. Andnot until their worried mother, made fast to a stake, had recognized herlost daughter and lured her within reach of her tongue, did the nose ofJean's puppy reveal to her the identity of her kin. Then there was a madfrolic in which she bullied and roughed her brothers as in the forgottendays before the master with the low voice and the hand that never struckher, took her away in his canoe.
When Kovik appeared in his umiak with his squat wife and family, therewas a general handshaking.
"How you leeve my fr'en' on de Salmon, Kovik?"
The Husky gravely shook his head.
"Kovik have troub' wid young men you shoot. Dey say Kovik bad spirittoo. You not hurt by dem?"
"Dey miss me an' I dreef down riviere an' ambush dem. I could keel demeasy but eet mak' eet bad for you. Here ees tabac, an' tea an' sugar forde woman. I tell M'sieu Gillies w'at you do for Jean Marcel."
When Jean had distributed his gifts, Fleur came trotting up, but to hisdelight refused to allow Kovik to touch her.
"Huh! Dat you' dog!" chuckled the Husky.
"Oui, she ees my dog, now," laughed Jean, and his heart went out to thepuppy who already knew but one allegiance.
The Whelps of the Wolf Page 6
