The Country Beyond: A Romance of the Wilderness

by James Oliver Curwood

  CHAPTER V

  It was in the third week after his hurt that Peter saw Nada. By thattime he could easily follow Jolly Roger as far as the fording-place, andthere he would wait, sometimes hours at a stretch, while his comrade andmaster went over to Cragg's Ridge. But frequently Jolly Roger would notcross, but remained with Peter, and would lie on his back at the edge ofa grassy knoll they had found, reading one of the little old-fashionedred books which Peter knew were very precious to him. Often he wonderedwhat was between the faded red covers that was so interesting, and if hecould have read he would have seen such titles as "Margaret of Anjou,""History of Napoleon," "History of Peter the Great," "Caesar," "Columbusthe Discoverer," and so on through the twenty volumes which Jolly Rogerhad taken from a wilderness mail two years before, and which he nowprized next to his life.

  This afternoon, as they lay in the sleepy quiet of June, Jolly Rogeranswered the questioning inquisitiveness in Peter's face and eyes.

  "You see, Pied-Bot, it was this way," he said, beginning a littleapologetically. "I was dying for something to read, and I figgeredthere'd be something on the Mail--newspapers, you know. So I stoppedit, and tied up the driver, and found these. And I swear I didn't takeanything else--that time. There's twenty of them, and they weigh ninepounds, and in the last two years I've toted them five thousand miles. Iwouldn't trade them for my weight in gold, and I'm pretty heavy. Inamed you after one of them--Peter. I pretty near called you ChristopherColumbus. And some day we've got to take these books to the man theywere going to, Peter. I've promised myself that. It seems sort of likestealing the soul out of someone. I just borrowed them, that's all. AndI've kept the address of the owner, away up on the edge of the Barrens.Some day we're going to make a special trip to take the books home."

  Peter, all at once, had become interested in something else, andfollowing the direction of his pointed nose Jolly Roger saw Nadastanding quietly on the opposite side of the stream, looking at them. Ina moment Peter knew her, and he was trembling in every muscle whenJolly Roger caught him up under his arm, and with a happy laugh plungedthrough the creek with him. For a good five minutes after that JollyRoger stood aside watching Peter and Nada, and there was a glistenof dampness in his eyes when he saw the wet on Nada's cheeks, and thewhimpering joy of Peter as he caressed her face and hands. Three weekshad been a long time to Peter, but he could see no difference in thelittle mistress he worshipped. There were still the radiant curls tohide his nose in, the gentle hands, the sweet voice, the warm thrill ofher body as she hugged him in her arms. He did not know that she had newshoes and a new dress, and that some of the color had gone from her redlips, and that her cheeks were paler, and that she could no longer hidethe old haunted look in her eyes.

  But Jolly Roger saw the look, and the growing pallor, and had notedthem for two weeks past. And later that afternoon, when Nada returned toCragg's Ridge, and he re-crossed the stream with Peter, there was a hardand terrible look in his eyes which Peter had caught there more and morefrequently of late. And that evening, in the twilight of their cabin,Jolly Roger said,

  "It's coming soon, Peter. I'm expecting it. Something is happening whichshe won't tell us about. She is afraid for me. I know it. But I'm goingto find out--soon. And then, Pied-Bot, I think we'll probably kill JedHawkins, and hit for the North."

  The gloom of foreboding that was in Jolly Roger's voice and words seemedto settle over the cabin for many days after that, and more than everPeter sensed the thrill and warning of that mysterious somethingwhich was impending. He was developing swiftly, in flesh and bone andinstinct, and there began to possess him now the beginning of thatsubtle caution and shrewdness which were to mean so much to him lateron. An instinct greater than reason, if it was not reason itself, toldhim that his master was constantly watching for something which did notcome. And that same instinct, or reason, impinged upon him the fact thatit was a thing to be guarded against. He did not go blindly into themystery of things now. He circumvented them, and came up from behind.Craft and cunning replaced mere curiosity and puppyish egoism. He wasquick to learn, and Jolly Roger's word became his law, so that only onceor twice was he told a thing, and it became a part of his understanding.While the keen, shrewd brain of his Airedale father developed insidePeter's head, the flesh and blood development of his big, gentle,soft-footed Mackenzie hound mother kept pace in his body. His legs andfeet began to lose their grotesqueness. Flesh began to cover the knotsin his tail. His head, bristling fiercely with wiry whiskers, seemed topause for a space to give his lanky body a chance to catch up with it.And in spite of his big feet, so clumsy that a few weeks ago they hadstumbled over everything in his way, he could now travel without makinga sound.

  So it came to pass, after a time, that when Peter heard footstepsapproaching the cabin he made no effort to reveal himself until he knewit was Jolly Roger who was coming. And this was strangely in spite ofthe fact that in the five weeks since Nada had brought him from Cragg'sRidge no one but Jolly Roger and Nada had set foot within sight of theshack. It was an inborn caution, growing stronger in him each day. Therecame one early evening when Peter made a discovery. He had returned withJolly Roger from a fishing trip farther down the creek, and scarcely hadhe set nose to the little clearing about the cabin when he caught thepresence of a strange scent. He investigated it swiftly, and found itall about the cabin, and very strong close up against the cabin door.There were no doubts in Peter's mind. A man had been there, and this manhad gone around and around the cabin, and had opened the door, and hadeven gone inside, for Peter found the scent of him on the floor. Hetried, in a way, to tell Jolly Roger. He bristled, and whined, andlooked searchingly into the darkening edge of the forest. Jolly Rogerquested with him for a few moments, and when he failed to find marks inthe ground he began cleaning a fish for supper, and said.

  "Probably a wolverine, Pied-Bot. The rascal came to see what he couldfind while we were away."

  But Peter was not satisfied. He was restless all that night. Soundswhich had been familiar now held a new significance for him. The nextday he was filled with a quiet but brooding expectancy. He resentedthe intrustion of the strange footprints. It was, in his process ofinstinctive reasoning, an encroachment upon the property rights of hismaster, and he was--true to the law of his species--the guardian ofthose rights.

  The fourth evening after the stranger's visit to the cabin Jolly Rogerwas later than usual in returning from Cragg's Ridge. Peter had been ona hunting adventure of his own, and came to the cabin at sunset. But henever came out of cover now without standing quietly for a few moments,getting the wind, and listening. And tonight, poking his head betweensome balsams twenty yards from the shack, he was treated to a suddenthrill. The cabin door was open. And standing close to this door,looking quietly and cautiously about, stood a stranger. He was notlike Jed Hawkins, was Peter's first impression. He was tall, with awide-brimmed hat, and wore boots with striped trousers tucked into them,and on his coat were bits of metal which caught the last gleams of thesun. Peter knew nothing of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police. But hesensed danger, and he remained very quiet, without moving a muscle ofhis head or body, while the stranger looked about, with a hand on hisunbuttoned pistol holster. Not until he entered the cabin, and closedthe door after him, did Peter move back into the deeper gloom of theforest. And then, silent as a fox, he skulked through cover to thefoot-trail, and down the trail to the ford, across which Jolly Rogerwould come from Cragg's Ridge.

  There was still half an hour of daylight when Jolly Roger arrived. Peterdid not, as usual, run to the edge of the bank to meet him. He remainedsitting stolidly on his haunches, with his ears flattened, and in hiswhole attitude no sign of gladness at his master's coming. With everyinstinct of caution developed to the highest degree within him, JollyRoger was lightning quick to observe the significance of small things.He spoke to Peter, caressed him with his hand, and moved on along thefoot-trail toward the cabin. Peter fell in behind him moodily, and aftera few moments stopped, and squatt
ed on his haunches again. Jolly Rogerwas puzzled.

  "What is it, Peter?" he asked. "Are you afraid of that wolverine--"

  Peter whined softly; but even as he whined, his ears were flat, and hiseyes filled with a red light as they glared down the trail beyond theoutlaw. Jolly Roger turned and went on, until he disappeared arounda twist in the path. There he stopped, and peered back. Peter was notfollowing him, but still sat where he had left him. A quicker breathcame to Jolly Roger's lips, and he went back to Peter. For fully aminute he stood beside him, watching and listening, and not once did thereddish glare in Peter's eyes leave the direction of the cabin. JollyRoger's eyes had grown very bright, and suddenly he dropped on his kneesbeside Peter, and spoke softly, close up to his flattened ear.

  "You say it isn't a wolverine, Peter? Is that what you're trying to tellme?"

  Peter's teeth clicked, and he whimpered, never taking his eyes fromahead.

  There was a cold light in Jolly Roger's eyes as he rose to his feet, andhe turned swiftly and quietly into the edge of the forest, and in thegloom that was gathering there his hand carried the big automatic. Peterfollowed him now, and Jolly Roger swung in a wide circle, so that theycame up on that forest side of the cabin where there was no window. Andhere Jolly Roger knelt down beside Peter again, and whispered to him.

  "You stay here, Pied-Bot. Understand? You stay here."

  He pressed him down gently with his hand, so that Peter understood.Then, slinking low, and swift as a cat, Jolly Roger ran to the end ofthe cabin where there was no window. With his head close to the groundhe peered out cautiously at the door. It was closed. Then he looked atthe windows. To the west the curtains were up, as he had left them. Andto the east--

  A whimsical smile played at the corners of his mouth. Those curtainshe had kept tightly drawn. One of them was down now. But the other wasraised two inches, so that one hidden within the cabin could watch theapproach from the trail!

  He drew back, and under his breath he chuckled. He recognized the sheernerve of the thing, the clever handiwork of it. Someone was inside thecabin, and he was ready to stake his life it was Cassidy, the Irishbloodhound of "M" Division. If anyone ferreted him out way down here onthe edge of civilization he had gambled with himself that it would beCassidy. And Cassidy had come--Cassidy, who had hung like a wolf to histrails for three years, who had chased him across the Barren Lands, whohad followed him up the Mackenzie, and back again--who had fought withhim, and starved with him, and froze with him, yet had never brought himto prison. Deep down in his heart Jolly Roger loved Cassidy. They hadplayed, and were still playing, a thrilling game, and to win that gamehad become the life's ambition of each. And now Cassidy was in there,confident that at last he had his man, and waiting for him to step intothe trap.

  To Jolly Roger, in the face of its possible tragedy, there was adeep-seated humor in the situation. Three times in the last year and ahalf had he turned the tables on Cassidy, leaving him floundering in thecleverly woven webs which the man-hunter had placed for his victim. Thiswas the fourth time. And Cassidy would be tremendously upset!

  Praying that Peter would remain quiet, Jolly Roger took off his shoes.After that he made no more sound than a ferret as he crept to the door.An inch at a time he raised himself, until he was standing up, withhis ear half an inch from the crack that ran lengthwise of the frame.Holding his breath, he listened. For an interminable time, it seemedto him, there was no sound from within. He guessed what Cassidy wasdoing--peering through that slit of window under the curtain. But he wasnot absolutely sure. And he knew the necessity of making no error, withCassidy in there, gripping the butt of his gun.

  Suddenly he heard a movement. A man's steps, subdued and yet distinct,were moving from the window toward the door. Half way they paused, andturned to one of the windows looking westward. But it was evident thewatcher was not expecting his game from that direction, for after amoment's silence he returned to the window through which he could seethe trail. This time Jolly Roger was sure. Cassidy was again peeringthrough the window, with his back toward him, and every muscle in theforest rover's body gathered for instant action. In another moment hehad flung open the door, and the watcher at the window whirled about tofind himself looking straight into the muzzle of Jolly Roger's gun.

  For several minutes after that last swift movement of Jolly Roger's,Peter lay where his master had left him, his eyes fairly popping fromhis head in his eagerness to see what was happening. He heard voices,and then the wild thrill of Jolly Roger's laughter, and restraininghimself no longer he trotted cautiously to the open door of the cabin.In a chair sat the stranger with the broad-brimmed hat and high boots,with his hands securely tied behind him. And Jolly Roger was hustlingabout, filling a shoulder-pack in the last light of the day.

  "Cassidy, I oughta kill you," Jolly Roger was saying as he worked, anexultant chuckle in his voice. "You don't give me any peace. No matterwhere I go you're sure to come, and I can't remember that I ever invitedyou. I oughta put you out of the way, and plant flowers over you, nowthat I've got the chance. But I'm too chicken-hearted. Besides, I likeyou. By the time you get tired of chasing me you should be a pretty goodman-hunter. But just now you lack finesse, Cassidy--you lack finesse."And Jolly Roger's chuckle broke into another laugh.

  Cassidy heaved out a grunt.

  "It's luck--just damned luck!" he growled.

  "If it is, I hope it keeps up," said Jolly Roger. "Now, look here,Cassidy! Let's make a man's bet of it. If you don't get me next time--ifyou fail, and I turn the trick on you once more--will you quit?"

  Cassidy's eyes gleamed in the thickening dusk.

  "If I don't get you next time--I'll hand in my resignation!"

  The laughter went out of Jolly Roger's voice.

  "I believe you, Cassidy. You've played square--always. And now--if Ifree your hands--will you swear to give me a two hours' start before youleave this cabin?"

  "I'll give you the start," said Cassidy.

  His lean face was growing indistinct in the gloom.

  Jolly Roger came up behind him. There was the slash of a knife. Then hepicked up his shoulder-pack. At the door he paused.

  "Look at your watch when I'm gone, Cassidy, and be sure you make it afull two hours."

  "I'll make it two hours and five minutes," said Cassidy. "Hittin' northare you, Jolly Roger?"

  "I'm hittin'--bushward," replied the outlaw. "I'm going where it'splenty thick and hard to travel, Cassidy. Goodby--"

  He was gone. He hit straight north, making noise as he went, but once inthe timber he swung southward, and plunged through the creek with Peterunder his arm. Not until they had traveled a good half mile over theplain did Jolly Roger speak. Then he said, speaking directly at Peter,

  "Cassidy thinks I'll sure hit for the North country again, Pied-Bot.But we're foolin' him. I've sort of planned on something like thishappening, and right now we're hittin' for the tail-end of Cragg's Ridgewhere there's a mess of rock that the devil himself can hardly get into.We've got to do it, boy. We can't leave the girl--just now. We can'tleave--her--"

  Jolly Roger's voice choked. Then he paused for a moment, and bent overto put his hand on Peter.

  "If it hadn't been for you, Peter--Cassidy would have got me--sure. AndI'm wondering, Peter--I'm wondering--why did God forget to give a dogspeech?"

  Peter whined in answer, and through the darkness of the night they wenton together.