The Country Beyond: A Romance of the Wilderness

by James Oliver Curwood

  CHAPTER XX

  The Sabbath was a day of glory and peace in the Burntwood country. Thesun rose warm and golden, the birds were singing, and never had the airseemed sweeter to Father John when he came out quietly from the cabinand breathed it in the early break of dawn. Best of all he loved thisvery beginning of day, before darkness was quite gone, when the worldseemed to be awakening mid sleepy whisperings and sounds came clearlyfrom a long distance.

  This morning he heard the barking of a dog, a mile away it must havebeen, and Peter, who followed close beside him, pricked up his ears atthe sound of it. Father John had noted Peter's vigilance, the cautiousexpectancy with which he was always sniffing the air, and the keenalertness of his eyes and ears. McKay had explained the reason forit. And this morning, as they made their way down to the pool atthe creekside, Peter's ceaseless watching for danger held a deepersignificance for Father John. All through the night, in spite of hisfaith and his words of consolation, he was thinking of the menace whichwas following McKay, and which eventually must catch up with him.

  And yet, how short a time was five years! Looking backward, each fiveyears of his life seemed but a yesterday. It was eight times five yearsago that a sweet-faced girl had first filled his life, as Nada filledJolly Roger's now, and through the thirty years since he had lost her hecould still hear her voice as clearly as though he had held her in hisarms only a few hours ago, so swift had been the passing of time. Butlooking ahead, and not backward, five years seemed an eternity of time,and the dread of it was in Father John's heart as he stood at the sideof the pool, with the first pink glow of sunrise coming to him over theforest-tops.

  Five years, and he was an old man now. A long and dreary wait it wouldbe for him. But for youth, the glorious youth of Roger and Nada, itwould seem very short when in later years they looked back upon it. Andfor a time as he contemplated the long span of life that lay behindhim, and the briefness of that which lay ahead, a yearning selfishnesspossessed the soul of Father John, an almost savage desire to hold thosefive years away from the violation of the law--not alone for Nada's sakeand Roger McKay's--but for his own. In this twilight of a tragic life agreat happiness had come to him in the love of these two, and thought ofits menace, its desecration by a pitiless and mistaken justice, rousedin him something that was more like the soul of a fighting man than thespirit of a missioner of God.

  Vainly he tried to stamp out the evil of this resentment, for evil hebelieved it to be. And shame possessed him when he saw the sweet gloryin Nada's face later that morning, and the happiness that was in RogerMcKay's. Yet was that aching place in his heart, and the hidden fearwhich he could not vanquish.

  And that day, it seemed to him, his lips gave voice to lies. For, beingSunday, the wilderness folk gathered from miles about, and he preachedto them in the little mission house which they had helped him to buildof logs in the clearing. Partly he spoke in Cree, and partly in English,and his message was one of hope and inspiration, pointing out the silverlinings that always lay beyond the darkness of clouds. To McKay, holdingNada's hand in his own as they listened, Father John's words brought agreat and comforting faith. And in Nada's eyes and voice as she led inCree the song, "Nearer, My God, to Thee," he heard and saw the livingfire of that faith, and had Breault come in through the open doorwaythen he would have accepted him calmly as the beginning of thatsacrifice which he had made up his mind to make.

  In the afternoon, when the wilderness people had gone, Father John heardagain the story of Yellow Bird, for Nada was ever full of questionsabout her, and for the first time the Missioner learned of theinspiration which the Indian woman's sorcery had been to Jolly Roger.

  "It was foolish," McKay apologized, in spite of the certainty and faithwhich he saw shining in Nada's eyes. "But--it helped me."

  "It wasn't foolish," replied Nada quickly. "Yellow Bird DID come to me.And--SHE KNEW."

  "No true faith is folly," said Father John, in his soft, low voice. "Thegreat fact is that Yellow Bird believed. She was inspired by a greatconfidence, and confidence and faith give to the mind a power which itis utterly incapable of possessing without them. I believe in the mind,children. I believe that in some day to come it will reach those heightswhere it will unlock the mystery of life itself to us. I have seen manystrange things in my forty-odd years in the wilderness, and not theleast of these have been the achievements of the primitive mind. And itseems to me, Roger, that Yellow Bird told you much that has come true.And has it occurred to you--"

  He stopped, knowing that the cloud of unrest which was almost fear inhis heart was driving him to say these things.

  "What, father," questioned Nada, bending toward him.

  "I was about to express a thought which suggests an almost childishcuriosity, and you will laugh at me, my dear. I am wondering if it hasoccurred to Roger the mysterious 'Country Beyond' of which YellowBird dreamed might be the great country down there--south--BEYOND THEBORDER--the United States?"

  Something which he could not control seemed to drive the words fromhis lips, and in an instant he saw that Nada had seized upon theirsignificance. Her eyes widened. The blue in them grew darker, and Rogerobserved her fingers grip suddenly in the softness of her dress as sheturned from Father John to look at him.

  "Or--it might be China, or Africa, or the South Seas," he tried tolaugh, remembering his old visions. "It might be--anywhere."

  Nada's lips trembled, as if she were about to speak; and then veryquietly she sat, with her hands tightly clasped in her lap, and FatherJohn knew she was not expressing the thought in her heart when she said,

  "Someday I want to tell Yellow Bird how much I love her."

  Now in these hours since he and his master had come to the Burntwoodit seemed to Peter that he had lost something very great, for in hishappiness McKay had taken but scant notice of him, and Nada seemed tohave found a greater joy than that which a long time ago she had foundin his comradeship. So now, as she saw him lying in his loneliness ashort distance away, Nada suddenly ran to him, and together they wentinto the thick screen of the balsams, Peter yipping joyously, and Nadawithout so much as turning her head in the direction of Roger and FatherJohn. But even in that bird-like swiftness with which she had left them,Father John had caught the look in her eyes.

  "I have made a mistake," he confessed humbly. "I have sinned, because inher I have roused the temptation to urge you to fly away with her--downthere--south. She is a woman, and being a woman she has infinitefaith in Yellow Bird, for Yellow Bird helped to give you to her. Shebelieves--"

  "And I--I--also believe," said McKay, staring at the green balsams.

  "And yet--it is better for you to remain. God means that judgment andhappiness should come in their turn."

  Jolly Roger rose to his feet, facing the south.

  "It is a temptation, father. It would be hard to give her up--now. IfBreault would only wait a little while. But if he comes--NOW--"

  He walked away slowly, following through the balsams where Nada andPeter had gone. Father John watched him go, and a trembling smile cameto his lips when he was alone. In his heart he knew he was a coward,and that these young people had been stronger than he. For in theirhappiness and the faith which he had falsely built up in them they hadresigned themselves to the inevitable, while he, in these moments ofcowardice, had shown them the way to temptation. And yet as he stoodthere, looking in the direction they had gone, he felt no remorsebecause of what he had done, and a weight seemed to have lifted itselffrom his shoulders.

  For a time the more selfish instincts of the man rose in him, fightingdown the sacrificial humility of the great faith of which he was amessenger. The new sensation thrilled him, and in its thrill he felt hisheart beating a little faster, and hope rising in him. Five years werea long time--FOR HIM. That was the thought which kept repeating itselfover and over in his brain, and with it came that other thought, thatself-preservation was the first law of existence, and therefore couldnot be a sin. Thus did Father John turn traitor to h
is spoken words,though his calm and smiling face gave no betrayal of it when Nada andRoger returned to the cabin an hour later, their arms filled with redbakneesh vines and early wildflowers.

  Nada's cheeks were as pink as the bakneesh, and her eyes as blue as therock-violets she wore on her breast.

  And Father John knew that Jolly Roger was no longer oppressed bythe fear of a menace which he was helpless to oppose, for there wassomething very confident in the look of his eyes and the manner in whichthey rested upon Nada.

  Peter alone saw the mysterious thing which happened in the earlyevening. He was with Nada in her room. And she was the old Nada again,hugging his shaggy head in her arms, and whispering to him in the old,excited way. And strange memory of a bundle came back to Peter, for veryquietly, as if unseen ears might be listening to her, Nada gathered manythings in a pile on the table, and made another bundle. This bundle shethrust under her bed, just as a long time ago she had thrust a similarbundle under a banksian clump in the meadowland below Cragg's Ridge.

  Father John went to his bed very early, and he was thinking of Breault.The Hudson's Bay Company post was only twelve miles away, and Breaultwould surely go there before questing from cabin to cabin for hisvictim.

  So it happened that a little after midnight he rose without making asound, and by the light of a candle wrote a note for Nada, saying hehad business at the post that day, and without wakening them had made anearly start. This note Nada read to McKay when they sat at breakfast.

  "Quite frequently he has gone like that," Nada explained. "He loves theforests at night--in the light of the moon."

  "But last night there was no moon," said Roger.

  "Yes--"

  "And when Father John left the cabin the sky was clouded, and it wasvery dark."

  "You heard him go?"

  "Yes, and saw him. There was a worried look in his face when he wrotethat note in the candle-glow."

  "Roger, what do you mean?"

  McKay went behind her chair, and tilted up her face, and kissed hershining hair and questioning eyes.

  "It means, precious little wife, that Father John is hurrying to thepost to get news of Breault if he can. It means that deep in his hearthe wants us to follow Yellow Bird's advice to the end. For he is surethat he knows what Yellow Bird meant by 'The Country Beyond.' It is thegreat big world outside the forests, a world so big that if need be wecan put ourselves ten thousand miles away from the trails of the mountedpolice. That is the thought which is urging him to the post to look forBreault."

  Her arms crept up to his neck, and in a little voice trembling witheagerness she said,

  "Roger, my bundle is ready. I prepared it last night--and it is underthe bed."

  He held her more closely.

  "And you are willing to go with me--anywhere?"

  "Yes, anywhere."

  "To the end of the earth?"

  Her crumpled head nodded against his breast.

  "And leave Father John?"

  "Yes, for you. But I think--sometime--he will come to us."

  Her fingers touched his cheek.

  "And there must be forests, big, beautiful forests, in some other partof the world, Roger."

  "Or a desert, where they would never think of looking for us," helaughed happily.

  "I'd love the desert, Roger."

  "Or an uninhabited island?"

  Against him her head nodded again.

  "I'd love life anywhere--WITH YOU."

  "Then--we'll go," he said, trying to speak very calmly in spite of thejoy that was consuming him like a fire. And then he went on, steadyinghis voice until it was almost cold. "But it means giving up everythingyou've dreamed of, Nada--these forests you love, Father John, YellowBird, Sun Cloud--"

  "I have only one dream," she interrupted him softly.

  "And five years will pass very quickly," he continued. "Possibly it willnot be as bad as that, and afterward all this land we love will be freeto us forever. Gladly will I remain and take my punishment if in the endit will make us happier, Nada."

  "I have only one dream," she repeated, caressing his cheek with herhand, "and that is you, Roger. Wherever you take me I shall be thehappiest woman in the world."

  "WOMAN," he laughed, scarcely breathing the word aloud.

  "Yes, I am a woman--now"

  "And yet forever and ever the little girl of Cragg's Ridge," he criedwith sudden passion, crushing her close to him. "I'd lose my lifesooner than I would lose her, Nada--the little girl with flying hair andstrawberry stain on her nose, and who believed so faithfully in the Manin the Moon. Always I shall worship her as the little goddess who camedown to me from somewhere in heaven!"

  Yet all through that day, as they waited for Father John's return, hesaw more and more of the wonder of woman that had come to crown theglory of Nada's wifehood, and his heart trembled with joy at the miracleof it. There was something vastly sweet in the change of her. She wasno longer the utterly dependent little thing, possibly caring for himbecause he was big and strong and able to protect her; she was a woman,and loved him as a woman, and not because of fear or helplessness. Andthen came the thrilling mystery of another thing. He found himself,in turn, beginning to depend upon her, and in their planning her calmdecision and quiet reasoning strengthened him with new confidence andmade his heart sing with gladness. With his eyes on the smooth andvelvety coils of hair which she had twisted woman-like on her head, hesaid,

  "With your hair like that you are my Margaret of Anjou, and the otherway--with it down you are my little Nada of Cragg's Ridge. And I--Idon't quite understand why God should be so good to me."

  And this day Peter was trying in his dumb way to analyze the change. Thetouch of Nada's hand thrilled him, as it did a long time ago, and stillhe sensed the difference. Her voice was even softer when she put hercheek down to his whiskered face and talked to him, but in it he missedthat which he could not quite bring back clearly through the lapse oftime--the childish comradeship of her. Yet he began to worship her anew,even more fiercely than he had loved the Nada of old. He was content nowto lie with his nose touching her foot or dress; but when in the sunsetof early evening she went into her room, and came out a little laterwith her curling hair clouding her shoulders and breast, and tied witha faded ribbon she had brought from Cragg's Ridge, he danced about her,yelping joyously, and she accepted the challenge in a wild race with himto the edge of the clearing.

  Panting and flushed she ran back to Jolly Roger, and rested in his arms.

  And it was McKay, with his face half hidden in her riotous hair, who sawa figure come suddenly out of the forest at the far end of the clearing.It was Father John. He saw him pause for an instant, and then staggertoward them, swaying as if about to fall.

  The sudden stopping of his breath--the tightening of his arms--drewNada's shining eyes to his face, and then she, too, saw the little oldMissioner as he swayed and staggered across the clearing. With a cry shewas out of McKay's arms and running toward him.

  Father John was leaning heavily upon her when McKay came up. His facewas tense and his breath came in choking gasps. But he tried to smile ashe clutched a hand at his breast.

  "I have hurried," he said, making a great effort to speak calmly, "and Iam--winded--"

  He drew in a deep breath, and looked at Jolly Roger.

  "Roger--I have hurried to tell you--Breault is coming. He cannot be farbehind me. Possibly half a mile, or a mile--"

  In the thickening dusk he took Nada's white face between his hands.

  "I find--at last--that I was mistaken, child," he said, very calmly now."I believe it is not God's will that you remain to be taken by Breault.You must go. There is no time to lose. If Breault does not stumble offthe trail in this gloom he will be here in a few minutes. Come."

  Not a word did Nada say as they went to the cabin, and McKay saw hertense face as pale as an ivory cameo in the twilight. But something inthe up-tilt of her chin and the poise of her head assured him she wasprepared, and unafraid.


  In the cabin the Leaf Bud met them, and to her Nada spoke quickly. Therewas understanding between them, and Oosimisk dragged in a filled packfrom the kitchen while Nada ran into her room and came out with thebundle.

  Suddenly she was standing before McKay and Father John, her breastthrobbing with excitement.

  "There is nothing more to make ready," she said. "Yellow Bird hasbeen with me all this day, and her spirit told me to prepare. We haveeverything we need."

  And then she saw only Father John, and put her arms closely about hisneck, and with wide, tearless eyes looked into his face.

  "Father, you will come to us?" she whispered. "You promise that?"

  The Missioner's arms closed about her, and he bowed his face against herlips and cheek.

  "I pray God that it may be so," he said.

  Nada's arms tightened convulsively, and in that moment there came awarning growl from outside the cabin door.

  "Peter!" she cried.

  In another moment Father John had extinguished the light.

  "Go, my children," he commanded. "You must be quick. Twenty paces belowthe pool is a canoe. I had one of my Indians leave it there yesterday,and it is ready. Roger--Nada--"

  He groped out, and the hands of the three met in the darkness.

  "God bless you--both! And go south--always south. Now go--go! I think Ihear footsteps--"

  He thrust them to the door, Nada with her bundle and Roger with hispack. Suddenly he felt Peter at his side, and reaching down he fastenedhis fingers in the scruff of his neck, and held him back.

  "Good-bye," he whispered huskily. "Good-bye--Nada--Roger--"

  A sob came back out of the gloom.

  "Good-bye, father."

  And then they listened, Peter and Father John, until the swift footstepsof the two they loved passed beyond their hearing.

  Peter whimpered, and struggled a little, but Father John held him as heclosed the door.

  "It's best for you to stay, Peter," he tried to explain. "It's best foryou to stay--with me. For I think they are going a far distance, andwill come to a land where you would shrivel up and die. Besides, youcould not go in the canoe. So be good, and remain with me, Peter--withme--"

  And the Leaf Bud, standing wide-eyed and motionless, heard a strangelittle choking laugh come from Father John as he groped in darkness fora light.