CHAPTER XI
Scarcely had the door closed when Celie Armin ran to Philip and pulledhim to the table. In the tense half hour of Bram's watchfulness she hadeaten her own breakfast as if nothing unusual had happened; now sheinsisted on adding potatoes and bannock to Philip's fish, and turnedhim a cup of coffee.
"Bless your heart, you don't want to see me beat out of a breakfast, doyou?" he smiled up at her, feeling all at once an immense desire topull her head down to him and kiss her. "But you don't understand thesituation, little girl. Now I've been eating this confoundedbannock"--he picked up a chunk of it to demonstrate hispoint--"morning, noon and night until the sight of it makes me almostcry for one of mother's green cucumber pickles. I'm tired of it. Bram'sfish is a treat. And this coffee, seeing that you have turned it inthat way--"
She sat opposite him while he ate, and he had the chance of observingher closely while his meal progressed. It struck him that she wasgrowing prettier each time that he looked at her, and he was morepositive than ever that she was a stranger in the northland. Again hetold himself that she was not more than twenty. Mentally he even wentso far as to weigh her and would have gambled that she would not havetipped a scale five pounds one way or the other from a hundred andtwenty. Some time he might have seen the kind of violet-blue that wasin her eyes, but he could not remember it. She was lost--utterly lostat this far-end of the earth. She was no more a part of it than a crepede chine ball dress or a bit of rose china. And there she was, sittingopposite him, a bewitching mystery for him to solve. And she WANTED tobe solved! He could see it in her eyes, and in the little beating throbat her throat. She was fighting, with him, to find a way; a way to tellhim who she was, and why she was here, and what he must do for her.
Suddenly he thought of the golden snare. That, after all, he believedto be the real key to the mystery. He rose quickly from the table anddrew the girl to the window. At the far end of the corral they couldsee Bram tossing chunks of meat to the horde of beasts that surroundedhim. In a moment or two he had the satisfaction of seeing that hiscompanion understood that he was directing her attention to thewolf-man and not the pack. Then he began unbraiding her hair. Hisfingers thrilled at the silken touch of it. He felt his face flushinghot under his beard, and he knew that her eyes were on him wonderingly.A small strand he divided into three parts and began weaving into asilken thread only a little larger than the wolf-man's snare. From, thewoven tress he pointed to Bram and in an instant her face lighted upwith understanding.
She answered him in pantomime. Either she or Bram had cut the tressfrom her head that had gone into the making of the golden snare. Andnot only one tress, but several. There had been a number of goldensnares. She bowed her head and showed him where strands as large as herlittle finger had been clipped in several places.
Philip almost groaned. She was telling him nothing new, except thatthere had been many snares instead of one.
He was on the point of speech when the look in her face held himsilent. Her eyes glowed with a sudden excitement--a wild inspiration.She held out her hands until they nearly touched his breast.
"Philip Raine--Amerika!" she cried.
Then, pressing her hands to her own breast, she added eagerly:
"Celie Armin--Danmark!"
"Denmark!" exclaimed Philip. "Is that it, little girl? You're fromDenmark? Denmark!"
She nodded.
"Kobenhavn--Danmark!"
"Copenhagen, Denmark," he translated for himself. "Great Scott,Celie--we're TALKING! Celie Armin, from Copenhagen, Denmark! But how inHeaven's name did you get HERE?" He pointed to the floor under theirfeet and embraced the four walls of the cabin in a wide gesture of hisarms. "How did you get HERE?"
Her next words thrilled him.
"Kobenhavn--Muskvas--St. Petersburg--Rusland--Sibirien--Amerika."
"Copenhagen--Muskvas, whatever that is--St.Petersburg--Russia--Siberia--America," he repeated, staring at herincredulously. "Celie, if you love me, be reasonable! Do you expect meto believe that you came all the way from Denmark to this God-forsakenmadman's cabin in the heart of the Canada Barrens by way of Russia andSiberia? YOU! I can't believe it. There's a mistake somewhere. Here--"
He thought of his pocket atlas, supplied by the department as a part ofhis service kit, and remembered that in the back of it was a small mapof the world. In half a minute he had secured it and was holding themap under her eyes. Her little forefinger touched Copenhagen. Leaningover her shoulder, he felt her hair crumpling against his breast. Hefelt an insane desire to bury his face in it and hug her up close inhis arms--for a single moment the question of whether she came fromCopenhagen or the moon was irrelevant and of little consequence. He, atleast, had found her. He was digging her out of chaos, and he wasfilled with the joyous exultation of a triumphant discoverer--almostthe thrill of ownership. He held his breath as he watched the littleforefinger telling him its story on the map.
From Copenhagen it went to Moscow--which must have been Muskvas, andfrom there it trailed slowly to St. Petersburg and thence straightacross Russia and Siberia to Bering Sea.
"Skunnert," she said softly, and her finger came across to the greenpatch on the map which was Alaska.
It hesitated there. Evidently it was a question in her own mind whereshe had gone after that. At least she could not tell him on the map.And now, seeing that he was understanding her, she was becoming visiblyexcited. She pulled him to the window and pointed to the wolves.Alaska--and after that dogs and sledge. He nodded. He was jubilant. Shewas Celie Armin, of Copenhagen, Denmark, and had come to Alaska by wayof Russia and Siberia--and after that had traveled by dog-train. ButWHY had she come, and what had happened to make her the companion orprisoner of Bram Johnson? He knew she was trying to tell him. With herback to the window she talked to him again, gesturing with her hands,and almost sobbing under the stress of the emotion that possessed her.His elation turned swiftly to the old dread as he watched the change inher face. Apprehension--a grim certainty--gripped hold of him.Something terrible had happened to her--a thing that had racked hersoul and that filled her eyes with the blaze of a strange terror as shestruggled to make him understand. And then she broke down, and with asobbing cry covered her face with her hands.
Out in the corral Philip heard Bram Johnson's laugh. It was amockery--a challenge. In an instant every drop of blood in his bodyanswered it in a surge of blind rage. He sprang to the stove, snatchedup a length of firewood, and in another moment was at the door. As heopened it and ran out he heard Celie's wild appeal for him to stop. Itwas almost a scream. Before he had taken a dozen steps from the cabinhe realized what the warning meant. The pack had seen him and from theend of the corral came rushing at him in a thick mass.
This time Bram Johnson's voice did not stop them. He saw Philip, andfrom the doorway Celie looked upon the scene while the blood froze inher veins. She screamed--and in the same breath came the wolf-man'slaugh. Philip heard both as he swung the stick of firewood over hishead and sent it hurling toward the pack. The chance accuracy of thethrow gave him an instant's time in which to turn and make a dash forthe cabin. It was Celie who slammed the door shut as he sprang through.Swift as a flash she shot the bolt, and there came the lunge of heavybodies outside. They could hear the snapping of jaws and the snarlingwhine of the beasts. Philip had never seen a face whiter than thegirl's had gone. She covered it with her hands, and he could see hertrembling. A bit of a sob broke hysterically from her lips.
He knew of what she was thinking--the horrible thing she was hidingfrom her eyes. It was plain enough to him now. Twenty seconds more andthey would have had him. And then--
He drew in a deep breath and gently uncovered her face. Her handsshivered in his. And then a great throb of joy repaid him for hisventure into the jaws of death as he saw the way in which her beautifuleyes were looking at him.
"Celie--my little mystery girl--I've discovered something," he criedhuskily, holding her hands so tightly that it must have hurt her. "I'malmost glad you c
an't understand me, for I wouldn't blame you for beingafraid of a man who told you he loved you an hour or two after he firstsaw you. I love you. I've never wanted anything in all my life as Iwant you. And I must be careful and not let you know it, mustn't I? IfI did you'd think I was some kind of an animal-brute--like Bram.Wouldn't you?"
Bram's voice came in a sharp rattle of Eskimo outside. Philip couldhear the snarling rebellion of the wolves as they slunk away from thecabin, and he drew Celie back from the door. Suddenly she freed herhands, ran to the door and slipped back the wooden bolt as thewolf-man's hand fumbled at the latch. In a moment she was back at hisside. When Bram entered every muscle in Philip's body was prepared foraction. He was amazed at the wolf-man's unconcern. He was mumbling andchuckling to himself, as if amused at what he had seen. Celie's littlefingers dug into Philip's arm and he saw in her eyes a tense, staringlook that had not been there before. It was as if in Bram's face andhis queer mumbling she had recognized something which was not apparentto him. Suddenly she left him and hurried into her room. During the fewmoments she was gone Bram did not look once at Philip. His mumbling wasincessant. Perhaps a minute passed before the girl reappeared.
She went straight to Bram and before the wolf-man's eyes held a long,shining tress of hair!
Instantly the mumbling in Bram's throat ceased and he thrust out slowlya huge misshapen hand toward the golden strand. Philip felt his nervesstretching to the breaking point. With Bram the girl's hair was afetich. A look of strange exultation crept over the giant's heavyfeatures as his fingers clutched the golden offering. It almost drew acry of warning from Philip. He saw the girl smiling in the face of adeadly peril--a danger of which she was apparently unconscious. Herhair still fell loose about her in a thick and shimmering glory. AndBRAM'S EYES WERE ON IT AS HE TOOK THE TRESS FROM HER FINGERS! Was itconceivable that this mad-man did not comprehend his power! Had thethought not yet burned its way into his thick brain that a treasuremany times greater than, that which she had doled out to him lay withinthe reach of his brute hands at any time he cared to reach out for it?And was it possible that the girl did not guess her danger as she stoodthere?
What she could see of his face must have been as pale as her own whenshe looked at him. She smiled, and nodded at Bram. The giant wasturning slowly toward the window, and after a moment or two in whichthey could hear him mumbling softly he sat down cross-legged againstthe wall, divided the tress into three silken threads and began weavingthem into a snare. The color was returning to Celie's face when Philiplooked at her again. She told him with a gesture of her head and handsthat she was going into her room for a time. He didn't blame her. Theexcitement had been rather unusual.
After she had gone he dug his shaving outfit out of his kit-bag. Itincluded a mirror and the reflection he saw in this mirror fairlyshocked him. No wonder the girl had been frightened at his firstappearance. It took him half an hour to shave his face clean, and allthat time Bram paid no attention to him but went on steadily at histask of weaving the golden snare. Celie did not reappear until thewolf-man had finished and was leaving the cabin. The first thing shenoticed was the change in Philip's face. He saw the pleasure in hereyes and felt himself blushing.
From the window they watched Bram. He had called his wolves and wasgoing with them to the gate. He carried his snowshoes and his longwhip. He went through the gate first and one by one let his beasts outuntil ten of the twenty had followed him. The gate was closed then.
Celie turned to the table and Philip saw that she had brought from herroom a pencil and a bit of paper. In a moment she held the paper out tohim, a light of triumph in her face. At last they had found a way totalk. On the paper was a crude sketch of a caribou head. It meant thatBram had gone hunting.
And in going Bram had left a half of his blood-thirsty pack in thecorral. There was no longer a doubt in Philip's mind. They were not thechance guests of this madman. They were prisoners.
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