That Girl Montana

  CHAPTER XIV.

  NEW-COMERS.

  Many days went by after that before more time was given to the hunting ofgold in that particular valley of the Kootenai lands; for before anotherday broke, the squaw spoke at the door of Overton's tent and told him thegirl was sick with fever, that she talked as a little child babbles andlaughs at nothing.

  He went with her, and the face he had seen so pale in the moonlight wasflushed a rosy red, and her arms tossed meaninglessly, while shemuttered--muttered! Sometimes her words were of the gold, and of flowers.He even heard his name on her lips, but only once; and then she cried outthat he hurt her. She was ill--very ill; he could see that, and help mustbe had.

  He went for it as swiftly as a boat could be sped over the water. Duringthe very short season of waiting for the doctor and Mrs. Huzzard, he wroteto Lyster, and secured some Indians for work needed. If the doctor thoughther able for the journey, he meant to have her brought back in a boat toSinna Ferry, where she would have something more substantial than canvaswalls about her.

  But the doctor did not. He was rather mystified by her sudden illness, asthere had been no forewarnings of it. That it was caused by some shock waspossible; and that it was serious was beyond doubt.

  The entire party, and especially Mrs. Huzzard, were taken aback by findinga newly arrived, self-imposed guardian at the door of Tana's tent. It wasthe blanket-draped figure of old Akkomi, and his gaily painted canoe waspulled up on the bank of the creek.

  "I heard on the wind the child was sick," he said briefly to Overton. "Icome to ask if you needed help."

  But Overton looked at him suspiciously. It was impossible that he couldhave heard of her illness so soon, though he might have heard of herpresence there.

  "Were any of your people here at nightfall yesterday?" he asked. The oldfellow shook his head.

  "No, none of my people," he said briefly; then he puffed away at his pipe,and looked approvingly at Mrs. Huzzard, who tried to pass him withoutturning her back to him at all, and succeeded in making a circuit bearingsome relation to progress made before a throne, though the relationshipwas rather strained. His approving eyes filled her with terror; for, muchas she had reveled in Indian romances (on paper) in her youth, she had nodesire to take any active part in them in her middle age.

  And so, with the help of the doctor and Mrs. Huzzard, they commenced thenursing of 'Tana back to consciousness and health. Night after night Danwalked alone in the waning moonlight, his heart filled with remorse andblame for which he could find no relief. The gathering of the gold had nolonger allurements for him.

  But he moved Harris' tent on to one of the claims, and he cut smalltimber, and in a day and a half had a little log house of two rooms put upand chinked with dry moss and roofed with bark, that 'Tana might have ahome of her own, and have it close to where the ore streaked with goldhad been found. Then he sent the Indians up the river again, and did withhis own hands all labor needed about the camp.

  "You'll be sick yourself, Overton," growled the doctor, who slept in thetent with him, and knew that scarce an hour of the night passed that hewas not at the door of 'Tana's cabin, to learn if any help was needed, ormerely to stand without and listen to her voice as she spoke.

  "For mercy's sake, Mr. Dan, do be a little careful of yourself," entreatedMrs. Huzzard; "for if you should get used up, I don't know what I everwould do here in this wilderness, with 'Tana and the paralyzed man and youto look after--to say nothing of the fear I'm in every hour because o'that nasty beast of an Indian that you say is a chief. He is hereconstant!"

  "Proof of your attractive powers," said Overton, reassuringly. "He comesto admire you, that is all."

  "And enough, too! And if it wasn't for you that's here to protect me, thegood Lord only knows whether I'd ever see a milliner shop or a pie again,as long as I lived. So I am set on your taking more care of yourself--nowwon't you?"

  "Wait until you have cause, before you worry," he advised, "I don't looklike a sick man, do I?"

  "You don't look like a well one, anyway," she said, looking at himcarefully; "and you don't look as I ever saw you look before. You are ashollow eyed as though you had been sick yourself for a month. Altogether,I think your coming out here to camp in the wild woods has been a bigmistake."

  "It looks like it just now," he agreed, and his eyes, tired and troubled,looked past her into the cabin where 'Tana lay. "Does she seem better?"

  "Just about the same. Eight days now since she was took down; and thedoctor, he said to-morrow would be the day to hope for a change, eitherfor the better or--"

  But the alternative was not a thing easy for the good soul to contemplate,and she left the sentence unfinished and disappeared into the cabin again,while the man outside dropped his head in his hands, feeling the mosthelpless creature in all the world.

  "Better to-morrow, or--worse;" that was what Mrs. Huzzard meant, but couldnot utter. Better or worse! And if the last, she might be dying now, eachminute! And he was powerless to help her--powerless even to utter all theregret, the remorse, the heart-aching sorrow that was with him, for herears were closed to the sense of words, and his lips were locked by somekey of some past.

  His own judgment on himself was not light as he went over in his mind eachmoment of their hours together. Poor little 'Tana! poor little stray!

  "I promised not to question her; yes, I promised that, or she would neverhave left the Indians with me. And I--I was savage with her, just becauseshe would not tell me what she had a perfect right to keep from me if shechose. Even if it was--a lover, what right had I to object? What right tohold her hands--to say all the things I said? If she were a woman, I couldtell her all I think--all, and let her judge. But not as it is--not to agirl so young--so troubled--so much of a stray. Oh, God! she shall neverbe a stray again, if only she gets well. I'd stay here digging forever ifI could only send her out in the world among people who will make herhappy. And she--the child, the child! said she would rather live here aswe did than to have the gold that would make her rich. God! it is hardfor a man to forget that, no matter what duty says."

  So his thoughts would ramble on each day, each night, and his restlessnessgrew until Harris took to watching him with a great pity in his eyes, andmutely asked each time he entered if hope had grown any stronger.

  By the request of Mrs. Huzzard they had moved Harris into the other roomof the cabin, because of a rain which fell one night, and reminded themthat his earthen floor might prove injurious to his health. Mrs. Huzzarddeclared she was afraid, with that room empty; and Harris, though having apartially dead body, had at least a living soul, and she greatly preferredhis presence to the spiritless void and the fear of Indian occupancy.

  So she shared the room with 'Tana, and the doctor and Overton used onetent, while the squaw used the other. All took turns watching at nightbeside the girl, who never knew one from the other, but who talked ofgold--gold that was too heavy a load for her to carry--gold that ran instreams where she tried to find water to drink and could not--gold thatDan thought was better than friends or their pretty camp. And over thosewoes she would moan until frightened from them by ghosts, the ghosts shehated, and which she begged them so piteously to keep out of her sight.

  So they had watched her for days, and toward the evening of the eighthOverton was keeping an ever-watchful ear for the Indian and the doctor whohad gone personally to fetch needed medicines from the settlement.

  Akkomi was there as usual. Each day he would come, sit in the doorway ofthe Harris cabin for hours, and contemplate the helpless man there. Whenevening arrived he would enter his canoe and go back to his own camp,which at that time was not more than five miles away.

  Overton, fearing that Harris would be painfully annoyed by the presence ofthis self-invited visitor, offered to entertain him in his own tent, ifHarris preferred. But while Harris looked with no kindly eye on the oldfellow, he signified that the Indian should remain, if he pleased. Thiswas a decision so unexpected that Overton asked
Harris if he had ever metAkkomi before.

  He received an affirmative nod, which awakened his curiosity enough tomake him question the Indian.

  The old fellow nodded and smoked in silence for a little while beforemaking a reply; then he said:

  "Yes, one summer, one winter ago, the man worked in the hills beyond theriver. Our hunters were there and saw him. His cabin is there still."

  "Who was with him?"

  "White man, stranger," answered Akkomi briefly. "This man stranger, too,in the Kootenai country--stranger from away somewhere there," and hepointed vaguely toward the east. "Name--Joe--so him called."

  "And the other man?"

  "Other man stranger, too--go way--never come back. This one go away, too;but he come back."

  "And that is all you know of them?"

  "All. Joe not like Indian friends," and the old fellow's eyes wrinkled upin the semblance of laughter; "too much tenderfoot, maybe."

  "But Joe's partner," persisted Overton, "he was not tenderfoot? He hadIndian friends on the Columbia River."

  "Maybe," agreed the old fellow, and his sly, bead-like eyes turned towardhis questioner sharply and were as quickly withdrawn, "maybe so. They huntsilver over there. No good."

  Just inside the door Harris sat straining his ears to catch every word,and Akkomi's assumption of bland ignorance brought a rather sardonic smileto his face, while his lips moved in voiceless mutterings of anger.Impatience was clearly to be read in his face as he waited for Overton toquestion further, and his right hand opened and closed in his eagerness.

  But no other questions were asked just then; for Overton suddenly walkedaway, leaving the crafty-eyed Akkomi alone in his apparent innocence ofJoe's past or Joe's partner.

  The old fellow looked after him kindly enough, but shook his head andsmoked his dirty black pipe, while an expression of undivulged knowledgeadorned his withered physiognomy.

  "No, Dan, no," he murmured. "Akkomi good friend to little sick squaw andto you; but he not tell--not tell all things."

  Then his ears, not so keen as in years gone by, heard sounds on the water,sounds coming closer and closer. But Dan's younger ears had heard themfirst, and it was to learn the cause that he had left so abruptly andwalked to the edge of the stream.

  It was the doctor and the Indian boatman who came in sight first aroundthe bend of the creek. Back of them was another canoe, but a much larger,much more pretentious one. In this was Lyster and a middle-agedgentleman of rather portly build, who dressed in a fashion very fine whencompared with the average garb of the wilderness.

  Overton watched with some surprise the approach of the man, who was anutter stranger to him, and yet who bore a resemblance to some one seenbefore. A certain something about the shape of the nose and generalcontour of the face seemed slightly familiar. He had time to notice, also,that the hair was auburn in color, and inclined to curl, and that back ofhim sat a female form. By the time he had made these observations, theirboat had touched the shore, and Lyster was shaking his hand vigorously.

  "I got your letter, telling me of your big strike. It caught me before Iwas quite started for Helena, so I just did some talking for you where Ithought it would do the most good, old fellow, and turned right around andcame back. I've been wild to hear about 'Tana. How is she? This is myfriend, Mr. T. J. Haydon, my uncle's partner, you know. He has made thistrip to talk a little business with you, and when I learned you were notat the settlement, but up here in camp, I thought it would be all right tofetch him along."

  "Of course it is all right," answered Overton, assuringly. "Our camp has awelcome for your friend even if we haven't first-class accommodations forhim. And is this lady also a friend?"

  For Lyster, forgetful of his usual gallantry, had allowed the doctor toassist the other voyager from the canoe--a rather tall lady of the agegenerally expressed as "uncertain," although the certainty of it was anindisputable fact.

  A rather childish hat was perched upon her thin but carefully frizzedhair, and over her face floated a white veil, that was on a drawing stringaround the crown of the hat and drooped gracefully and chastely over thefeatures beneath, after the fashion of 1860. A string of beads adorned thethin throat, and the rest of her array was after the same order ofelegance.

  The doctor and Lyster exchanged glances, and Lyster was silentlyproclaimed master of ceremonies.

  "Oh, yes," he said, easily. "Pardon me that I am neglectful, and let meintroduce you to Miss Slocum--Miss Lavina Slocum of Cherry Run, Ohio. Sheis the cousin of our friend, Mrs. Huzzard, and was in despair when shefound her relative had left the settlement; so we had the pleasure of hercompany when she heard we were coming direct to the place where Mrs.Huzzard was located."

  "She will be glad to see you, miss," said Overton, holding out his hand toher in very hearty greeting. "Nothing could be more welcome to this campjust now than the arrival of a lady, for poor Mrs. Huzzard has been havinga sorry siege of care for the last week. If you will come along, I willtake you to her at once."

  Gathering up her shawl, parasol, a fluffy, pale pink "cloud," and ahomemade and embroidered traveling bag, he escorted her with the utmostdeference to the door of the log cabin, leaving Lyster without anotherword.

  That easily amused gentleman stared after the couple with keenappreciation of the picture they presented. Miss Slocum had a queer,mincing gait which her long limbs appeared averse to, and the result was alittle hitchy. But she kept up with Overton, and surveyed him with weakblue eyes of gratitude. He appeared to her a very admirable personage--averitable knight of the frontier, possibly a border hero such as everynatural woman has an ideal of.

  But to Lyster, Dan with his arms filled with female trappings and a lot ofpink zephyr blown about his face and streaming over his shoulder, like averitable banner of Love's color, was a picture too ludicrous to be lost.He gazed after them in a fit of delight that seemed likely to end inapoplexy, because he was obliged to keep his hilarity silent.

  "Just look at him!" he advised, in tones akin to a stage whisper. "Isn'the a great old Dan? And maybe you think he would not promenade beside thatmake-up just as readily on Broadway, New York, or on Chestnut street,Philadelphia? Well, sir, he would! If it was necessary that some manshould go with her, he would be the man to go, and Heaven help anybody hesaw laughing! If you knew Dan Overton twenty years you would not seeanything that would give you a better key to his nature than just hismanner of acting cavalier to that--wonder."

  But Mr. Haydon did not appear to appreciate the scene with the same degreeof fervor.

  "Ah!" he said, turning his eyes with indifference to the two figures, andwith scrutiny over the little camp-site and primitive dwellings. "Am I tounderstand, then, that your friend, the ranger, is a sort of modern DonJuan, to whom any order of femininity is acceptable?"

  "No," said Lyster, facing about suddenly. "And if my thoughtless manner ofspeech would convey such an idea of Dan Overton, then (to borrow one ofDan's own expressions) I deserve to be kicked around God's footstool fora while."

  "Well, when you speak of his devotion to any sort of specimen--"

  "Of course," agreed Lyster. "I see my words were misleading--especially toone unaccustomed to the life and people out here. But Dan, as Don Juan, isone of the most unimaginable things! Why, he does not seem to know womenexist as individuals. This is the only fault I have to find with him; forthe man who does not care for some woman, or never has cared for anywoman, is, according to my philosophy, no good on earth. But Dan justlooks the other way if they commence to give him sweet glances--and theydo, too! though he thinks that collectively they are all angels. Yes, sir!let the worst old harridan that ever was come to Overton with a tale ofvirtue and misfortune, and he will take off his hat and divide up hismoney, giving her a good share, just because she happens to be a woman.That is the sort of devotion to women I had reference to when I spokefirst; the wonder to me is that he has not been caught in a matrimonialnoose long ere this by some thrifty maid or matron. He seems to meg
uileless game for them, as his sympathy is always so easily touched."

  "Perhaps he is keeping free from bonds that he may marry this ward of hisfor whom he appears so troubled," remarked Mr. Haydon.

  Lyster looked anything but pleased at the suggestion.

  "I don't think he would like to hear that said," he returned. "'Tana isonly a little girl in his eyes--one left in his charge at the death of herown people, and one who appeals to him very strongly just now because ofher helplessness."

  "Well," said Mr. Haydon, with a slight smile, "I appear to be ratherunfortunate in all my surmises over the people of this new country,especially this new camp. I do not know whether it is because I am in astupid mood, or because I have come among people too peculiar to be judgedby ordinary standards. But the thing I am interested in above and beyondour host and his _protegee_ is the gold mine he wrote you to find a buyerfor. I think I could appreciate that, at least, at its full value, if Iwas allowed a sight of the output."

  The doctor had hurried to the cabin even before Overton and Miss Slocum,so the two gentlemen were left by themselves, to follow at their leisure.Mr. Haydon seemed a trifle resentful at this indifferent reception.

  "One would think this man had been making big deals in gold ore all hislife, and was perfectly indifferent as to whether our capital is to beused to develop this find of his," he remarked, as they approached thecabin. "Did you not tell me he was a poor man?"

  "Oh, yes. Poor in gold or silver of the United States mint," agreedLyster, with a strong endeavor to keep down his impatience of this magnateof the speculative world, this wizard of the world of stocks and bonds,whom his partners deferred to, whose nod and beck meant much in a circleof capitalists. "I myself, when back East," thought Lyster to himself,"considered Haydon a wonderful man, but he seems suddenly to have growndwarfed and petty in my eyes, and I wonder that I ever paid such reverenceto his judgment."

  He smiled dubiously to himself at the consciousness that the wide spiritof the West must have already changed his own views of things somewhat,since once he had thought this marketer of mines superior.

  "But no one out here would think of calling Dan Overton poor," hecontinued, "simply because he is not among the class that weighs a man'sworth by the dollars he owns. He is considered one of the solid men of thedistrict--one of the best men to know. But no one thinks of gauging hisright to independence by the amount of his bank account."

  Mr. Haydon shrugged his shoulders, and tapped his foot with thegold-headed umbrella he carried.

  "Oh, yes. I suppose it seems very fine in young minds and a young country,to cultivate an indifference to wealth; but to older minds andcivilization it grows to be a necessity. Is that object over there alsoone of the solid men of the community?"

  It was Akkomi he had reference to, and the serene manner with which theold fellow glanced over them, and nonchalantly smoked his pipe in thedoorway, did give him the appearance of a fixture about the camp, andpuzzled Lyster somewhat, for he had never before met the ancient chief.

  He nodded his head, however, saying "How?" in friendly greeting, and theIndian returned the civility in the same way, but gave slight attention tothe speaker. All the attention of his little black eyes was given to thestranger, who did not address him, and whose gaze was somewhat criticaland altogether contemptuous.

  Then Mrs. Huzzard, without waiting for them to reach the door, hurried outto greet Lyster.

  "I'm as glad as any woman can be to see you back again," she saidheartily, "though it's more than I hoped for so soon, and--Yes, the doctorsays she's a little better, thank God! And your name has been on her lipsmore than once--poor dear!--since she has been flighty, and all thethanks I feel to you for bringing Lavina right along I can never tell you;for it seems a month since I saw a woman last. I just can't count thesquaw! And do you want to come in and look at our poor little girl now?She won't know you; but if you wish--"

  "May I?" asked Lyster, gratefully. Then he turned to the stranger.

  "Your daughter back home is about the same age," he remarked. "Will youcome in?"

  "Oh, certainly," answered Mr. Haydon, rather willing to go anywhere awayfrom the very annoying old redskin of the pipe and the very--veryscrutinizing eyes.

  The doctor and Overton had passed into the room where Harris was, and Mrs.Huzzard halted at the door with her cousin, so that the two men approachedthe bed alone. The dark form of Akkomi had slipped in after them like ashadow, but a very alert one, for his head was craned forward that hiseyes might lose never an expression of the fine stranger's face.

  'Tana's eyes were closed, but her lips moved voicelessly. The light wasdim in the little room, and Lyster bent over to look at her, and touchedher hot forehead tenderly.

  "Poor little girl! poor 'Tana!" he said, and turned the covering fromabout her chin where she had pulled it. He had seen her last so saucy, sodefiant of all his wishes, and the change to this utter helplessnessbrought the quick tears to his eyes. He clasped her hand softly and turnedaway.

  "It is too dark in here to see anything very clearly," said the stranger,who bent toward her slightly, with his hat in his hand.

  Then Akkomi, who had intercepted the light somewhat, moved from the footof the bed to the stranger's side, and a little sunshine rifted throughthe small doorway and outlined more clearly the girl's face on thepillow.

  The stranger, who was quite close to her, uttered a sudden gasping cry ashe saw her face more clearly, and drew back from the bed.

  The dark hand of the Indian caught his white wrist and held him, whilewith the other hand he pointed to the curls of reddish brown clusteringaround the girl's pale forehead, and from them to the curls on Mr.Haydon's own bared head. They were not so luxuriant as those of the girl,but they were of the same character, almost the same color, and the vagueresemblance to something familiar by which Overton had been impressed wasat once located by the old Indian the moment the stranger lifted the hatfrom his head.

  "Sick, maybe die," said Akkomi, in a voice that was almost a whisper--"dieaway from her people, away from the blood that is as her blood," and hepointed to the blue veins on the white man's wrist.

  With an exclamation of fear and anger, Mr. Haydon flung off the Indian'shand.

  Lyster, scarce hearing the words spoken, simply thought the old fellow wasdrunk, and was about to interfere, when the girl, as though touched by thecontest above her, turned mutteringly on the pillow and opened herunconscious eyes on the face of the stranger.

  "See!" said the Indian. "She looks at you."

  "Ah! Great God!" muttered the other and staggered back out of the range ofthe wide-open eyes.

  Lyster, puzzled, astonished, came forward to question his Eastern friend,who pushed past him rudely, blindly, and made his way out into thesunshine.

  Akkomi looked after him with a gratified expression on his dark, wrinkledold face, and bending over the girl, he muttered in a soothing way wordsin the Indian tongue, as though to quiet her restlessness with Indianwitchery.