VIII

  ON THE LITTLE RIVER

  The next day found Garth and Natalie afloat on Musquasepi, headed aloneinto the North. To be exact, only Natalie was afloat; she sat in thestern of a tiny boat, keeping her off shore with a paddle devisedfrom the cover of a grub-box. Their outfit was piled amidships. Garthharnessed to the end of a towing-line, plodded through the mud and overthe stones of the bank; climbing over fallen trees, and wading bodilyinto the river, when necessary to drag his tow around a reef.

  Indecision had attacked Garth the night before--his responsibility wasso great! But Natalie had said, pressing the soft curve out of her lips:

  "_Any_ means to get ahead! If we have to crawl on hands and knees!"

  "Any _safe_ means," Garth amended.

  "Nick Grylls without doubt is counting on our being held up or drivenback," she said. "I have an idea he is not far behind us."

  It was Garth's own idea.

  "So we _must_ keep ahead!"

  "We must do whatever will best ensure your safety," Garth said doggedly.

  That bright red spot had appeared in either of Natalie's cheeks. "Bothermy safety!" she cried. "You will not allow me a shred of pluck! Myhonour is engaged on this journey, just the same as if I were a man! Isaid I'd do it; and I will! And if I hear another word about my comfortor my safety, upon my word, I'll go on alone!"

  Garth had smiled at the threat, and given in; because on the whole itseemed safer to press ahead, than to attempt to return. Secretly, he wasdelighted with the spirit she showed.

  They had bought the boat from Pierre Toma, a breed of the moreself-respecting elder generation, in whose aged eyes still twinkledthe spirit of the voyageurs. Pake's magnanimous offer of the wagon andteam at only twice their real value was declined; inasmuch as the trailwas impassible for wagons beyond Toma's place, and ceased altogether atCaribou Lake. They counted on the boat to carry them as far as the lake;there, Pierre Toma had assured them, they might very likely overtake theBishop, if he were delayed by contrary winds, or christenings. In anycase Wall-eye Macgregor, said Pierre, had a strong boat at the lake thatcould take them the eighty miles across. According to the haphazardmeasurements of the breeds, Caribou Lake was twenty-five miles fromPierre Toma's.

  Their own boat was but crazily hung together. Natalie had christenedit the _Flat-iron_ from its shape. It was of extremely simpleconstruction--two planks laid V-shape, with a shorter plank to close theend, and boards nailed on for a bottom. Pierre Toma had said with pride,there was no other boat in the country like it; and after using it a daythey were prepared to agree. It was designed to be propelled with a pole;and they had started in that manner; but the _Flat-iron_ showed a perversedisposition to travel in any direction save the desired one; and herfavourite manoeuvre under the impetus of the pole was to swing on hercentre without moving ahead at all. So Garth, after some study, hadconstructed the tracking apparatus.

  It was a simple, park-like, little river with brown, foam-flecked waterflowing moderately through a country of small timber; and occasionallythere were natural meadows starred with flowers, where children in theirwhite dresses should have been picnicking, so intimate and peaceful itseemed. None the less, it was the strange and lonely North into whichthey were thrust, on their own unaided resources--like the babes inthe woods, Natalie said. They were abruptly cast back on the great andsimple verities of existence, where a man, be his wits never so sharp,must be strong, to survive. Natalie looked at Garth's broad back, as heslowly put the miles behind him one after another; and considering theimpatient vigour, with which he attacked the multitude of obstaclesstrewn along the river, thanked God for sending such a one to her aid.

  The wonder of the unknown was in them both; and their breasts throbbeda little, as they looked to see what each bend in the stream would haveto show. Only once in the course of the afternoon was there any reminderof human life; a breed boy suddenly appeared on the bank, only to duckbehind a bush like a little animal, at the startling sight of whitestrangers on the river. Tempted forth at last, in response to Garth'squestion, he said they were twenty-five miles from the lake. Garth, whohad been doing his best for seven hours to reduce that distance, feltdistinctly aggrieved.

  Natalie insisted on camping early; for it had been a gruelling afternoonon Garth. They chose a little promontory running into the water; and oncehe had started a fire, and put up her tent, she made him lie at lengthin the grass, where he stretched his limbs in delicious weariness, andwatched her settling the camp for the night and cooking the supper. Shewas proud in the acquisition of a new accomplishment, that of bakingbannock before a fire in the open, learned that morning from Mrs. Toma.The sight of her, bustling and cheerful, working for him, had a strangeand painful pleasure for him. They two, alone together in the wilderness,cut off from all their kind!--the thought squeezed his heartstrings; shewas so much his own there--and so little!

  With the sinking of the sun, the awful stillness came stealing toenvelope them; and with insistent fingers seemed to press upon the verydrums of their ears. The little river flowed as stilly and darkly as thewater of Lethe at their feet; and the gaunt pines over the way stoodtransfixed like souls that had drunk of it. Under the spell of the silencethey instinctively lowered their voices; and they broke sticks for thefire with reluctance; so painful was the crash and reverberation up anddown. But there is always one sound that accompanies this stillness;hardly breaks it, so smoothly it comes stealing on the suspended eveningair--the quavering howl of the coyote. They heard it throb miles off;and it was answered from immeasurable distances side to side. Little bylittle, attracted by the smell of cooking food, the animals drew closer,and at last stationed themselves in a kind of wide-drawn circle abouttheir camp on both sides of the river, wailing back and forth likesouls inconceivably tormented. Natalie shuddered.

  "They are cowardly beasts," Garth said reassuringly. "They won't comeany closer."

  They spoke but little to each other. Night, solitude and that spirit ofwoe abroad, filled them with a mighty longing for each other's arms. Atlast she crept away to her tent.

  As the darkness deepened; and the clear-eyed Northern constellationslooked out, one by one, there were other sounds; a peevish growling andwhining at the top of the bank above them; a frantic scurry when Garthheaved a stone. The better to ensure Natalie's peace of mind, heweighted the tent all around with rocks; and heaped wood on the fire.

  Natalie stuck her head out of her cosy refuge. "I can't bear to haveyou sleeping unprotected outside," she said anxiously.

  Garth's heart paused breathlessly at the thought of the alternative. Hesprang up and thrust the thought aside. "Nonsense! I'll be all right!"he cried. "To please you I'll keep the fire going all night."

  Later, he rolled himself in his blankets across the door of her tent,as before; and lay there smoking, gazing at the fire, picturing Natalieasleep within; and assuaging his hungry heart as best he might with thesound of her child-like breathing.

  The day broke gloriously; and shortly after sunrise they were ontheir way again, under a sky as tenderly blue as palest turquoise, overwhich were flung bright, silken, cloudy scarves. As they ascended, thecharacter of the river changed; the trees disappeared, giving place towide, flat meadows of blue grass as high as a man's waist; the currentslackened, and its course became more circuitous. Along the shores,steep cut-banks alternated with muddy shoals; and a new set ofproblems faced Garth.

  These chiefly took the form of stout willow bushes overhanging thecut-banks--diabolically malicious, sentient beings, they became toGarth. He tried crawling underneath with his tow-line, whereupon theearth gave way, precipitating him in water up to his middle; he triedcrashing bodily through, and the line would invariably knot itselfaround the most inaccessible twig. The _Flat-iron_, too, seemed torejoice in his discomfiture; and at every interruption of her progresstook the occasion, in spite of Natalie's paddle, to turn about and stickher nose stupidly into the mud of the bank. Every bush in turn offereda different a
nd more complicated obstacle than the last; in three hoursthey made perhaps twice three hundred yards. Natalie, alarmed by thespectacle of Garth's set lips, and the swollen veins of his temples,besought him for goodness' sake to swear and not mind her.

  He finally decided to change his mode of going; and contriving asecond little paddle, he embarked with Natalie. They progressed butslowly against the current; for the short paddles had about the sameeffectiveness as two of those little instruments for making butter pats,which they strongly resembled. Garth figured they would be making amile an hour--but this way was easier on his temper.

  To-day, the little river, placidly flowing between its grassy banks,had an oddly pastoral look. With the familiar shapes of the overhangingwillows, and the brilliant marsh marigolds on the shallows, all drenchedin the opulent sunshine, they found themselves looking for cows on thebank; and it seemed incredible that no church spire rose above anyof the distant clumps of trees. They could not rid themselves of thefeeling that this was no more than a day's picnic, with a house awaitingthem just ahead, and company and good cheer. But instead of that,silently rounding a bend, they were unexpectedly introduced to the truegenius of the country. In the mud of one of the flats at the edge of thewater, sat a large brown bear on his haunches, soberly licking his paws.He was no more than twenty feet from them--a room's length. At Natalie'sslight gasp of astonishment, he turned his head; and stared at themagape, with hanging paws, like a great baby. He looked so homely andcomical Natalie burst out laughing. At the sound, Bruin promptly fellto all fours; and with a great "woof!" of astonishment and indignation,bundled over the bank out of sight.

  To-day, the delicate, heady air of the Northern summer inspired theirveins like wine. As Olympians, they lunched on the greensward carpetingthe bank of a little inlet; while their shallop floated among tiny whitelilies at their feet. All afternoon their spirits soared into the realmsof incoherent enthusiasm; they filled the air with their full-throatedlaughter and foolish, glancing speech. Garth's old friends would havebeen astonished then to see how he could "let himself go"; but no onein the world ever really saw that besides Natalie.

  They loved; their happy eyes confessed it freely, though their tongueswere tied. Nothing needed to be explained, for they were perfectlyattuned to each other; and everything was clear in an exchange of eyes.The tough old world, with all its tiresome, grimy businesses was thrustout of sight and out of mind, and they seemed to tread a brand-new sphere,created as they would have it, empty of all save their two selfish selves.On such a day, in such surroundings, crosses, hindrances, dangers, whatwere they? Life was a great joke: Nick Grylls and his minions wereblithely whistled down the wind. Ascending between the flowery banks ofthe little river, _their_ river, nothing mattered so they were not parted.In the more or less tarnished circlet of life it was their perfect goldenday; and whenever afterward either remembered it, it was as if a delicatefragrance arose in his soul. All day they saw no sign of human habitation.

  As long as the sun shone they maintained their light-hearted gaiety,neither remembering nor desiring anything more----

  "I say, Nat!" it would be, "toss me over the hatchet like a good chap.Hey, there! not at my head!"

  "What's for supper, Nat? I'm hungry as an ogre!"

  "Bacon _aux tomates a la Bland_ and bannock _Musquasepi avec_ ashes!"

  "Bully! If you taste it so much there won't be any left to go on thetable!"

  "Where's the bag of hard-tack, Garth?"

  "Grub-box number two; port side by the rail."

  "Idiot! You put them on the bottom of the box! The water's leakedthrough, and they're all mush underneath!"

  "What's the diff? Stick the soft ones in the lobscouse!"

  But after supper, when the sun had gone down, and the great stillnesscrept over them again, Natalie's arms dropped at her sides, Garth'spipe went out, and an unaccountable sadness fell on both. Then, theirsporadic attempts to keep up the old, friendly rattle rang so falsethat both fell silent. Their camp of itself had a gloomy aspect. It waspitched in an elbow of the river, where a section of the cut-bank hadsunk down, making a little terrace of grass a few feet above the water.Above, there had been a small grove of trees, through which a fire hadsome time swept, leaving only a few slender, charred trunks pointingaskew against the slow, dusky crimson of the west. On the nearest andtallest of these wrecked monuments, immediately above their camp, as ona slender pedestal, sat a great owl, the only visible living thing inall the wide expanse, besides themselves. As long as there was lightenough to see him, he crouched there, motionless.

  Natalie sat huddled on a box, with Garth's coat thrown about hershoulders. Her chin was in her palm, and her lashes veiled rebellious,miserable eyes. There are moments when the most aerial spirits sink toearth; and just now Natalie could make no pretense at a flight. It wasclear he loved her, as she loved him; what then were a few words fiveyears old, to keep them apart? She tried honestly to arm her breast bythinking of the laws that separated them; but the insidious part of itwas, they were worldly laws; and here the world was thrust out of sight.Why did he not take her in his arms, and let her heavy head fall on hisshoulder? her heart reiterated; and that was the only voice she couldhear then. Yet if Garth had betrayed any weakness on his part, Nataliewould have been on the _qui vive_ to repel him. The forces of her soulwere thrown in a sad confusion; while her woman's instinct raged againsthim, that he could resist her, she loved him tenfold more for that veryresistance.

  And Garth--seeing her sitting there so small under his coat, and allrelaxed and appealing, her mouth like an unhappy child's, and her eyesbig with unshed tears--his arms ached to enfold her; his brain reeledwith the intensity of his desire to take her as she trembled to betaken. But her helplessness, which tortured him, nerved him to endurethe torture. In the turmoil of his blood he could not think coherently;but he could repeat to himself, dully, over and over: "I must takecare of her! I must take care of her!" He busied himself with smallunnecessary tasks; splicing the tracking line, chopping tent-pegs,cleaning the frying pan with sand.

  Natalie disappeared within her tent--and cried herself to sleep. Garth,lying outside the door, though she attempted to smother the sound in herpillow, heard; and it was like little knives hacking in his breast.Sleep for him was out of the question; he was denied the relief oftears. He rose, when Natalie's quiet breathing told him she was asleepat last, and undressing, waded into the river, and swam back and forthuntil the cold water chilled him through. Brisk, silent exerciserestored his circulation, and a pipe and communion with the starsquieted his nerves. In the end he toppled over all standing, andslept on the grass until daylight.

  * * * * *

  Natalie reappeared with the sun, brave and rosy again, and with littlesign of the night's tumult, save in an added sense of gratitude towardGarth, which appeared in the pleasure she took in doing little thingsfor him. His grayish pallor, and kind, tired eyes rebuked her sorelyfor having cast the whole burden on him. She vowed to herself itshould not occur again.

  To-day the character of the river changed little; only that thebends multiplied and sharpened; and where they were horseshoe curvesyesterday, to-day they were hair-pin curves. Sometimes, just over thebank, they would catch sight again of a particularly marked tree theyhad passed a whole laborious hour before. Endless and futile were thecalculations they made as to how far they had gone, and had yet to go.

  They cut across from point to point, keeping under the bank out of thestrength of the current as far as possible, and rounding the insideof each bend. In this manner they were ascending close under a willowbush, when suddenly and silently a huge, brown wing, like the wing ofSinbad's auk, sailed athwart the sky. They caught their breaths inastonishment. A great gray galley swept around the bend, no more thantwo oars' length from them. With her swarthy crew standing about thedeck, their brows bound with bright silk handkerchiefs, and at thetiller, a great, bearded figure, she was the very picture of a piratecraft. It would
be impossible to state which crew was the more surprisedat the unexpected encounter; the seeming pirates likewise staredopen-mouthed at the _Flat-iron_. Just as the galley was disappearing,Garth collected presence of mind sufficient to hail, and inquire thedistance to the lake.

  The answer came back: "Twenty-five miles!"

  They began to think there was witchcraft in it.

  The wind had changed; and puffy, white clouds came rolling up fromthe west, passing beneath the serene and silky streamers of the upperair. Gradually the invaders thickened and spread over the field; theirunderbodies took on a grayish tint; and the blue openings narrowed.Finally a sharp shower descended; and the voyageurs sought shelter undera bush, where they hung, watching the millions of drops plopping roundlyinto the surface of the river; each drop with its attendant spriteleaping at its approach. One shower followed another, with intervalsof hot and sticky sunshine between. It was more uncomfortable underthe steamy, dripping bushes than in the thick of it; and they finallydecided to paddle ahead, let it rain as it would. Luncheon, consistingof soaked bannock and cold cocoa, was a sorry affair.

  Garth was glum. He had long apprehended that bad weather would trebletheir difficulties. "How can I keep her warm and dry throughout thenight?" was his ever-present thought. Natalie, on the other hand, was ashappy as a lark; and she made a very attractive picture in the rain. Herdress had altered little by little during the last few days; and nowcomprised a blue sweater, short skirt and moccasins. The hat with thegreen wings was safely wrapped in the duffle-bag; and hitherto she hadgone bareheaded on the river. When it began to rain she pulled a man'scap close over her head to keep her hair dry. As she industriously pliedher paddle in the bow, ever and anon turning a rosy, streaming face tohim, with a joke on her lips, in her rough get-up poor Garth thought herlovelier than ever. He was continually having to call himself down, ashe would have said, for presuming to think he had measured the extentof her charm.

  "Isn't it bully, Garth!" once she cried. "Ever since I was a baby I havelonged to be allowed to play in the rain for just once, and get as wetas I possibly could--just to see how it felt! And now I shall! Isn't itfunny just to sit and let it come down, without running anywhere? Womenare babies, anyway. I mean never to put up an umbrella again as long asI live. The rain feels good in my face!"

  Nevertheless, Garth, occupied as he was with the problems of how to finda dry place to put up the tent, and how to build a fire in a downpour,was anxious. Little by little the showers merged into each other; andbefore the end of the afternoon, it had settled down to rain steadilyall night.

  He learned in the end never to trust the distances given in anunmeasured land. Rounding one of the endless bends toward five o'clock,they became aware of a new, indefinable, fresher smell on the air; andthey increased their pace with an eager sense of a discovery awaitingthem in the next vista. The next point proved to be the last; lookingaround it, the wind buffeted their faces fresh and cool; the riverstretched away for half a mile, straight as a canal and there, awaybeyond, leapt the waves of Caribou Lake on the bar.

  Natalie cheered. "Hooray for the crew of the _Flat-iron_!" she cried."We've actually done it!" She reached back. "Shake, partner!"

  Near the head of the river, in the wild waste of sand on the lake shore,squatted a weather-beaten little log cabin, almost eave-deep behind thedunes. Smoke arose from the chimney.

  "Good!" cried Garth in high satisfaction. "You can dry your clotheshere, anyway."

  A glance up and down the shore of the river revealed no trace of thecanoes or the outfit of the expedition they were in pursuit of.

  "We've missed him again," said Garth grimly.

  They landed, dripping and stiff; and plodded through the sand to thetiny door. The outlook was desolate in the extreme; there was no signof life anywhere, save only the wisp of smoke from the chimney. At theirleft hand, the lake spread bleakly to the horizon, torn and white underthe west wind, and with great billows tumbling on the beach.

  "The _Flat-iron_ could never negotiate that," remarked Garth.

  He knocked on the little door.

  "Come in!" rang instantly from within.

  They looked at each other in astonishment.

  "An English voice!" she whispered.

  "A white man! Thank God!" said he.