CHAPTER XXXI
THE WAY OF A DOG
When Wallace and Gillies had surveyed the bodies of the deadhalf-breeds, the factor turned grimly to his chief.
"Well, Wallace, I don't see how we can send the Lelacs south for trial,now; they wouldn't keep that long."
"Gillies," said the Inspector with a frown, ignoring the ghastlywitticism, "I want you to run down the men who did this. Whether theydeserved it or not, I won't have men murdered in this district withouttrial. The lawlessness of the East Coast has got to stop."
Gillies turned away, suppressing with difficulty his anger. Shortly incontrol of his voice, he answered:
"Mr. Wallace, I have put in many years, boy and man, on this coast and Ithink I understand the Crees. To punish the men who did this, providedwe knew who they were, would be the worst thing the Company could do.When the Lelacs stole Beaulieu's fur and rifle, they put themselvesoutside the Cree law, and as sure as the sun will set in Hudson's Bayto-night, the Lelacs would never have got out of the bush alive thiswinter."
"I know," objected Wallace, "but to overpower our guards and kill themunder our noses----"
"What of it? The Lelacs had robbed a dead man and would have killed JeanMarcel, if he hadn't been a son of Andre Marcel, who was a wolf in afight. The Lelacs were three-quarter Cree and the Indians here have away of meting out justice to their own people in a case like this thateven Canadian officials might envy. You may be sure that the Lelacs wereformally tried and condemned in some tepee last night before this thinghappened."
"These two guards must have been asleep," complained Wallace.
"Well, we'll never know, Mr. Wallace. They say that they were thrownfrom behind and didn't recognize the men who did it. Even if they did,they wouldn't tell who they were, and it's useless to try to make them.The Crees have taken the Lelacs off our hands. They have saved us timeand money by ridding us of these vermin. In my opinion we should thankrather than attempt to punish them."
So Inspector Wallace slowly cooled off and in the afternoon went to theMission to make his daily call on Julie Breton only to be informed, tohis surprise, that she could not see him.
Meanwhile the condition of the wounded man was unchanged, but PereBreton faced a problem which he deemed necessary to discuss with hisfriends Jules Duroc and McCain.
Throughout the day, Fleur had fretted in the stockade, running back andforth followed by her complaining puppies, thrusting her nose betweenthe pickets to whine and howl by turns, mourning the strange absence ofMarcel.
"Fleur will not grant sleep to Whale River to-night, unless something isdone," said the priest to the two men who were acting in turn asassistant nurses.
"Why can't we bring her in; let her see him and sniff his hand; it mightquiet her?" suggested McCain. "It will only make her worse to shut herup somewhere else."
"By Gar! Who weel tak' dat dog out again?" objected Jules. "Once shehere, she nevaire leeve de room."
"Yes, she will, Jules. She'll go back to her pups after a while. We'llbring them outside under the window and let 'em squeal. She'll go backto 'em then."
"I am strong man," said Jules, "but I not love to hold dat dog. She weeleat Jean Marcel, she so glad to see heem, an' we mus' keep her off debed."
At that moment Julie entered the room. "I will take Fleur to see him;she will behave for me," volunteered the girl.
So not without serious misgivings, it was arranged that the grievingFleur should be shown her master.
That night when Julie had fed Fleur, she opened the stockade gate andstroking the great head of the dog, said slowly:
"Fleur would see Jean, Jean Marcel?"
At the sound of the master's name, Fleur's ears went forward, her slanteyes turning here and there for a sight of the familiar figure. Thenwith a whine she looked at Julie as if for explanation.
"Fleur will see Jean, soon. Will Fleur behave for Julie?"
With a yelp the husky leaped through the gate and ran to and frooutside, sniffing the air; then as if she knew the master were notthere, returned, shaggy body trembling, every nerve tense withanticipation, slant eyes eagerly questioning as she whimpered herimpatience.
Taking the dog by her plaited collar of caribou hide, to it Julieknotted a rope and led her into the Mission where McCain, Jules and PereBreton waited.
"Fleur will be good and not hurt Jean. She must not leap on his bed. Heis very sick."
Seeming to sense that something was about to happen having to do withMarcel, Fleur met the girl's hand with a swift lick of her tongue. Withthe rope trailing behind, the end of which Jules and McCain seized tocontrol the dog in case she became unmanageable, Julie Breton opened thedoor of Marcel's room, where with fever-flushed face the unconscious manlay on a low cot, one arm hanging limply to the floor. When the huskysaw the motionless figure, she pricked her ears, thrusting her muzzleforward, and sniffed, and as her nose revealed the glad news that hereat last lay the lost Jean Marcel, she raised her head and yelped wildly.Then swiftly muzzling Marcel's inert body she started to spring upon thebunk to wake him, when Julie Breton's arms circled her neck and aided bythe drag on the rope, checked her.
"Down, Fleur! No! No! You must not hurt Jean."
Seeming to sense that the mute Marcel was not to be roughly played with,the intelligent dog, whimpering like one of her puppies, caressed thefree hand of the sick man, then, ignoring the weight on the ropedragging her back, she strained forward to reach his neck with hertongue, for his head was turned from her. But Jean Marcel did not returnher caress.
Puzzled by his indifference, then sensing that harm had come to theunconscious Marcel, the dog raised her head over the cot and rocked theroom with a wail of sorrow.
The wounded man sighed and turning, moaned:
"They took Fleur and now they take Julie. There is nothing left--nothingleft!"
At the words, the nose of the overjoyed dog reached the hot face ofMarcel, but his eyes did not see her.
Again Julie's strong arms circled Fleur's neck, restraining her. Theslant eyes of the husky looked long into the pale face which showed norecognition; then she quietly sat down, resting her nose on his arm. Andfor hours, with Julie seated beside her, Fleur kept vigil beside thebed, until the priest and McCain insisted on the dog's removal.
When Jules brought a crying puppy outside the window of the sick room,for a time Fleur listened to the call of her offspring without removingher eyes from Marcel's face. But at length, maternal instincttemporarily conquered the desire to watch by the stricken man. Herunweaned puppies depended on her for life and for the moment mother loveprevailed. With a final caress of the limp hand of Marcel, reluctantly,with head down and tail dragging, she followed Julie to the stockade.
The Whelps of the Wolf Page 32
