CHAPTER XXVI
THE WHELPS OF THE WOLF
The following morning Jean Marcel forgot the cloud hanging over him inhis joy at the event which had taken place since dawn. Rousing Julie andher brother, he led them to the stockade. There in all the pride ofmotherhood lay the great Fleur with five blind, roly-poly puppies,whimpering at her side.
"Oh, the little dears!" cried Julie. "How pretty they are!"
First speaking to Fleur and patting her head, Jean picked up a squirmingball of fur and as the mother whined anxiously, put it in Julie's arms.
"Oh, mon cher!" cried the girl, nestling the warm little body to hercheek. "What a morsel of softness!" But when Pere Breton reached totouch the puppy a rumble from Fleur's deep throat warned him that Juliealone was privileged to take such liberties with her offspring.
Jean quieted the anxious mother, whose nose sought his hand. "See,Father, what a dog-team she has given me."
One after another he proudly exhibited the puppies. "Mark the bone oftheir legs. They will make a famous team with Fleur as leader. Is it notso?"
"They are a possession to be proud of, Jean," agreed the priest,standing discreetly out of reach, for Fleur's slant eyes never left him.
"Which of them do you wish, Julie?" Jean asked. "One, you know, is foryou."
"Oh, Jean; you are too good!" cried the girl. "I should love this one,marked like Fleur," and she stooped to take the whimpering puppy in herarms, while Jean's hand rested on Fleur's massive head, lest the fear ofthe mother dog for the safety of her offspring should overpower herfriendship for Julie.
As the girl fearlessly reached and lifted the puppy, Fleur suddenlythrust forward her long muzzle and licked her hand.
"_Bon!_" cried Jean, delighted. "Fleur would allow no one on earth to dothat except you. The puppy's name must be Julie."
In his joy at the coming of Fleur's family Marcel had forgotten, for thetime being, the hearing. But later in the morning at the trade-house,Gillies, whose obstinacy had been deeply aroused by the attitude ofInspector Wallace, planned with the accused man how they should handlethe Lelacs.
For the factor had no intention of permitting Jean's exoneration tohang in the balance of the prejudiced mind of Wallace. The canny Scotrealized that if the Lelacs were thoroughly discredited at the hearingat which the leaders of the Crees would be present; were shown to havean ulterior motive in their attempt to fix the crime upon Marcel, therewould be a strong reaction in favor of Jean--that his story would begenerally accepted; so to this end he carefully laid his plans. Wallace,busy prying into the books of the post, he did not take into hisconfidence, wishing to surprise him as well as the Crees by thebomb-shell the defense had in store for the Lelacs.
At noon Wallace overheard Jules and McCain talking of Fleur's puppieswhich they had just seen.
"By the way, McCain, where are these remarkable Ungava pups which yousay were sired by a timber wolf?"
"Over in the Mission stockade, sir."
"I want to see them and the old dog, too. I'm rather curious to put myeyes on the husky that could kill a man with a loaded gun in his hands.That part of Marcel's story needs a bit of salt."
"You won't doubt it when you see her! She's a whale of a husky," saidMcCain.
"Well, I never saw the dog that could kill me with a rifle handy. I'llstroll over and take a look at her."
"I'll show you the way." And McCain and Wallace went to the Mission.
Arrived at the tent in the stockade they were greeted by a fiercerumble, like the muttering of an August south-wester making on the Bay.
"We'd better not go near the tent, Mr. Wallace. I'll see if Jean's inthe house. The dog won't allow anyone but Marcel near her."
Ignoring the warning, Wallace approached the tent opening to lookinside, but so fierce a snarl warned him off that he stepped back withconsiderably more speed than his dignity admitted. Red in the face, heglanced around to learn if his precipitous flight had had an audience.
Shortly, McCain returned with Marcel, and Wallace, now that the dog'sowner was near, again approached and peered into the tent.
There was a deep growl from within, and with a cry of surprise theInspector was hurled backward to the ground by the rush of a great, graybody. At the same instant, Jean Marcel, calling to Fleur, leapedheadlong at his dog, seizing her before she could strike at the neck ofthe prostrate Wallace. Calming the husky, he held her while thediscomfited Inspector got to his feet.
"You should not go so near, M'sieu. She ees not use to stranger," saidJean brusquely.
"I--I didn't think she was so cross," sputtered the ruffled Inspector."Why, she's a regular wolf of a dog!"
"Now, sir," demanded the secretly delighted McCain, "do you believe shecould kill a man?"
Surveying Fleur's gigantic frame critically as Jean stroked her glossyneck, soothing her with low words crooned into a hairy ear, theenlightened Inspector of the East Coast posts admitted:
"Well, I don't know but what she could. I never saw such a beast forsize and strength. Let's have a look at the pups."
Jean brought from the tent the blind, squirming balls of fur.
"They are beauties, Marcel! I'll buy a couple of them. They can go downby the steamer if they're weaned by that time. What do you want forthem?"
Marcel smiled inscrutably at Inspector Wallace and said:
"M'sieu, dese pups are not to sell."
"I know, but you don't want all of them. That would give you six dogs.All you need for a team is four."
But Jean Marcel only shook his head, repeating:
"Dey are not to sell!"
The Whelps of the Wolf Page 27
