The Whelps of the Wolf
Page 33
CHAPTER XXXII
FROM THE FAR FRONTIERS
For days Marcel's youth and strength battled with the fever aggravatedby infection in the deep wound. All that Gillies and Pere Breton coulddo for the stricken man was done, but barring the simple remedies whichstock the medicine chest of a post in the far north and the most limitedknowledge of surgery possessed by the factors, the recovery of a patientdepends wholly upon his vitality and constitution. With medical aidbeyond reach, men die or fight back to health through the toughness oftheir fiber alone.
There was a time when Jean Marcel journeyed far toward the dim hills ofa land from which there is no trail home for the feet of the _voyageur_.There were nights when Julie Breton sat with her brother and Jules, orMcCain, stark fear in their hearts that the sun would never again liftabove the Whale River hills for Jean Marcel, never again his daringpaddle flash in sunlit white-water, or his snow-shoes etch their webbedtrail on the white floor of the silent places.
And during these days the impatient Wallace chafed with longing for thesociety of Julie whose pity for the sick man had made of her anindefatigable nurse. A few words in the morning and an hour or two atnight was all the time she allotted the man to whom she had given herheart.
To the demand of the Inspector in the presence of Pere Breton that Julieshould substitute a Cree woman as nurse, she had replied:
"He has no one but us. His people are dead. He has been like a brotherto me. I can do no less than care for him, poor boy!"
"Yes," added Pere Breton, "he is as my son. Julie is right," and added,with a smile, "you two will have much time in the future to see eachother."
So Wallace had been forced to make the best of it.
By the time that the steamer, _Inenew_, from Charlton Island, appearedwith the English mail, and the supplies and trade-goods for the comingyear, Jean Marcel had fought his way back from the frontiers of death.So relieved seemed the girl, who had given lavishly of her youngstrength, that she allowed Mrs. Gillies to take her place in the sickroom while she spent with Wallace the last days of his stay at WhaleRiver.
Once more the post people saw the lovers constantly together and morethan one head shook sadly at the thought of the one who had lost, lyinghurt, in heart and body, on a cot at the Mission, while another took hisplace beside Julie Breton.
At last, the steamer sailed for Fort George and no one in the groupgathered at the landing doubted that the heart of Julie Breton went withit when they saw the light in her dark eyes as she bade the handsomeWallace good-bye.
It was an open secret now, communicated by Wallace to the factor, thathe was to become a Catholic that autumn, and in June take Julie Bretonas a bride away to East Main.
* * * * *
During the tense days when the fever heightened and the life of JeanMarcel hung on the turn of a leaf, there had been no repetition of thevisit of Fleur to the sick room. But so loudly did she wail hercomplaint at her enforced absence from the man battling for his life, sonear in the Mission house, that it was necessary to confine her with herpuppies at a distance.
Once again conscious of his surroundings and rapidly gaining strength,Marcel insisted on seeing his dog. So, daily, under watchful guard,Fleur was taken into the room, often with a clumsy puppy, round andfluffy, who alternately nibbled with needle-pointed milk-teeth at Jean'sextended hand, making a great to-do of snarling in mock anger, orrolled squealing on its back on the floor, while Fleur sprawledcontentedly by the cot, tail beating the floor, love in her slant eyesfor the master who now had found his voice, whose face once more shonewith the old smile, which was her life.