CHAPTER III.
THE IMAGE-MAKER.
The world was a night older ere Dan Overton informed Lyster that theywould have an addition of one to their party when they continued theirjourney into the States.
On leaving the village of Akkomi but little conversation was to be hadfrom Dan. In vain did his friend endeavor to learn something of the whitesquaw who swam so well. He simply kept silence, and looked with provokingdisregard on all attempts to surprise him into disclosures.
But when the camp breakfast was over, and he had evidently thought out hisplan of action, he told Lyster over the sociable influence of a pipe, thathe was going over to the camp of Akkomi again.
"The fact, is, Max, that the girl we saw yesterday is to go across homewith us. She's a ward of mine."
"What!" demanded Max, sitting bolt upright in his amazement, "a ward ofyours? You say that as though you had several scattered among the tribesabout here. So it is a Kootenai Pocahontas! What good advice was it yougave me yesterday about keeping clear of Selkirk Range females? And nowyou are deliberately gathering one to yourself, and I will be theunnecessary third on our journey home. Dan! Dan! I wouldn't have thoughtit of you!"
Overton listened in silence until the first outburst was over.
"Through?" he asked, carelessly; "well, then, it isn't a Pocahontas; itisn't an Indian at all. It is only a little white girl whose fatherwas--was an old partner. Well, he's gone 'over the range'--dead, youknow--and the girl is left to hustle for herself. Naturally, she heard Iwas in this region, and as none of her daddy's old friends were around butme, she just made her camp over there with the Kootenais, and waited tillI reached the river again. She'll go with me down to Sinna; and if shehasn't any other home in prospect, I'll just locate her there with Mrs.Huzzard, the milliner-cook, for the present. Now, that's the story."
"And a very pretty little one it is, too," agreed Mr. Max. "For abackwoodsman, who is not supposed to have experience, it is very well puttogether. Oh, don't frown like that! I'll believe she's yourgranddaughter, if you say so," and he laughed in wicked enjoyment atOverton's flushed face. "It's all right, Dan. I congratulate you. But Iwouldn't have thought it."
"I suppose, now," remarked Dan, witheringly, "that by all these remarksand giggles you are trying to be funny. Is that it? Well, as the fun of itis not visible to me yet, I'll just keep my laughter till it is. In themeantime, I'm going over to call on my ward, Miss Rivers, and you canhustle for funny things around camp until I come back."
"Oh, say, Dan, don't be vindictive. Take me along, won't you? I'll promiseto be good--'pon honor I will. I'll do penance for any depraved suspicionsI may have indulged in. I'll--I'll even shake hands again with BlackBow, there! Beyond that, I can think of no more earnest testimony ofrepentance."
"I shall go by myself," decided Overton. "So make a note of it, if you seethe young lady before to-morrow, it will be because she specially requestsit. Understand? I'm not going to have her bothered by people who are onlycurious; not but that she can take her own part, as you'll maybe learnlater. But she was too upset to talk much last night. So I'll go over andfinish this morning, and in the meantime, this side of the river is plentygood enough for you."
"Is it?" murmured Mr. Lyster, as he eyed the stalwart form of theretreating guardian, who was so bent on guarding. "Well, it would do myheart good, anyway, to fasten another canoe right alongside of yours whereyou land over there, and I shouldn't be surprised if I did it."
Thus it happened that while Overton was skimming upward across the river,his friend, on mischief bent, was getting a canoe ready to launch. A fewminutes after Overton had disappeared toward the Indian village, thesecond canoe danced lightly over the Kootenai, and the occupant laughed tohimself, as he anticipated the guardian's surprise.
"Not that I care in the least about seeing the dismal damsel he has tolook after," mused Lyster. "In fact, I'm afraid she'll be a nuisance, andspoil our jolly good time all the way home. But he is so refreshinglyearnest about everything. And as he doesn't care a snap for girls ingeneral, it is all the more amusing that it is he who should have a chargeof that sort left on his hands. I'd like to know what she looks like.Common, I dare say, for the ultra refined do not penetrate these wildsto help blaze trails; and she swam like a boy."
When he reached the far shore, no one was in sight. With satisfied smiles,he fastened his canoe to that of Overton, and then cast about for someplace to lie in wait for that selfish personage and surprise him on hisreturn.
He had no notion of going up to the village, for he wanted only to keepclose enough to trace Overton. Hearing children's voices farther along theshore, he sauntered that way, thinking to see Indian games, perhaps. Whenhe came nearer, he saw they were running races.
The contestants were running turn about, two at a time. Each victory wasgreeted with shrill cries of triumph. He also noticed that each victorreturned to a figure seated close under some drooping bushes, and eachtime a hand was reached out and some little prize was given to the winner.Then, with shouts of rejoicing, a new race was planned.
As the stranger stood back of the thick bushes, watching the stretch oflevel beach and the half-naked, childish figures, he grew curious to seewho that one person just out of sight was.
One thing at last he did discover--that the hand awarding the prizes wastanned like the hand of a boy, but that it certainly had white bloodinstead of red in its veins. What if it should be the ward?
Elated, and full of mischief, he crept closer. If only he could be able togive Overton a description of her when Overton came back to the canoe!
At first all he could see were the hands--hands playing with a bit of wetclay--or so it seemed to him.
Then his curiosity was more fully aroused when out of the mass arecognizable form was apparent--a crudely modeled head and shoulders of adecided Indian character.
Lyster was so close now that he could notice how small the hands were, andto see that the head bent above them was covered with short, brown,loosely curled hair, and that there was just a tinge of reddish gold onit, where the sunlight fell.
A race was just ended, and one of the little young savages trotted upwhere the image-maker was. The small hand was again reached out, and hecould see that the prize the little Indian had raced for was a blue beadof glass. He could see, also, that the owner of the hand had the face of agirl--a girl with dark eyes, and long lashes that touched the rather palecheeks. Her mouth was deliciously saucy, with its bow-like curve, and itsclear redness. She said something he did not understand, and the childrenscampered away to resume the endless races, while she continued themanipulation of the clay, frowning often when it would not take thedesired form.
Then one of the sharp-eyed little redskins left his companions and slippedback to her, and said something in a tone so low it was almost a whisper.
She turned at once and looked directly into the thicket, back of whichLyster stood.
"What are you watching for?" she demanded. "I don't like people who areafraid to show themselves."
"Well, I'll try to change that as quickly as I can," Lyster retorted, andcircling the clump of bushes, he stood before her with his hat in hishand, looking smilingly audacious as she frowned on him.
But the frown faded as she looked; perhaps because 'Tana had never seenany one quite so handsome in all her life, or so fittingly andpicturesquely dressed, for Mr. Maxwell Lyster was artist enough to makethe most of his many good points and to exhibit them all with charmingunconsciousness.
"I hope you will like me better here than across there," he said, with asmile that was contagious. "You see, I was too shy to come forward atfirst, and then I was afraid to interrupt your modeling. It is verygood."
"You don't look shy," she said, combatively, and drew the clay image back,where he could not look at it. She was not at all sure that he was notlaughing at her, and she covered her worn shoes with the skirt of herdress, feeling suddenly very poor and shabby in the light of his eyes. Shehad not fel
t at all like that when Overton looked at her in Akkomi'slodge.
"You would not be so unfriendly if you knew who I am," he ventured meekly."Of course, I--Max Lyster--don't amount to much, but I happen to be DanOverton's friend, and with your permission, I hope to continue with him toSinna Ferry, and with you as well; for I am sure you must be MissRivers."
"If you're sure, that settles it, I suppose," she returned. "So he--hetold you about me?"
"Oh, yes; we are chums, as you will learn. Then I was so fortunate as tosee your brave swim after that child yesterday. You don't look any theworse for it."
"No, I'm not."
"I suppose, now, you thought that little dip a welcome break in themonotony of camp-life, while you were waiting for Dan."
She looked at him in a quick, questioning way he thought odd.
"Oh--yes. While I was waiting for--Dan," she said in a queer tone, andbent her head over the clay image.
He thought her very interesting with her boyish air, her brusqueness, andindependence. Yet, despite her savage surroundings, a certain amount ofeducation was visible in her speech and manner, and her face had no stampof ignorance on it.
The young Kootenais silently withdrew from their races, and gatheredwatchfully close to the girl. Their nearness was a discomfiting thing toLyster, for it was not easy to carry on a conversation under theirwatchful eyes.
"You gave them prizes, did you not?" he asked. "How much wealth must oneoffer to get them to run?"
"Run where?" she returned carelessly, though quietly amused at thescrutiny of the little redskins. They were especially charmed by theglitter of gold mountings on Mr. Lyster's watch-guard.
"Oh, run races--run anywhere," he said.
From a pocket of her blouse she drew forth a few blue beads that yetremained.
"This is all I had to give them, and they run just as fast for one ofthese as they would for a pony."
"Good enough! I'll have some races for my own edification and comfort,"and he drew out some coins. "Will you run for this--run far over there?"
The children looked at the girl. She nodded her head, said a word or twounintelligible to him, but perfectly clear to them; for, with sharp looksat the coins and pleased yells, they leaped away to their racing.
"Now, this is more comfortable," he said. "May I sit down here? Thanks!Now would you mind telling me whose likeness it is you are making in theclay?"
"I guess you know it's nobody's likeness," she answered, and again thrustit back out of sight, her face flushing that he should thus make a jest ofher poor efforts. "You've seen real statues, I suppose, and know how theyought to be, but you don't need to look for them in the Purcell Range."
"But, indeed, I am in earnest about your modeling. Won't you believe me?"and the blue eyes looking into her own were so appealing, that she turnedaway her head half shyly, and a pink flush crept up from her throat. MissRivers was evidently not used to eyes with caressive tendencies and theydisturbed her, for all her strangely unchildlike character.
"Of course, your work is only in the rough," he continued; "but it is notat all bad, and has real Indian features. And if you have had noteaching--"
"Huh!" and she looked at him with a mirthless smile. "Where'd any one getteaching of that sort along the Columbia River? Of course, there are somegentlemen--officers and such--about the reservations, but not one butwould only laugh at such a big girl making doll babies out of mud. No, Ihad no teaching to do anything but read, and I did read some in a bookabout a sculptor, and how he made animals and people's faces out of clay.Then I tried."
As she grew communicative, she seemed so much more what she really was inyears--a child; and he noticed, with satisfaction, that she looked at himmore frankly, while the suspicion faded almost entirely from her face.
"And are you going to develop into a sculptor under Overton'sguardianship?" he asked. "You see, he has told me of his good luck."
She made a queer little sound between a laugh and a grunt.
"I'll bet the rest of the blue beads he didn't call it good luck," shereturned, looking at him keenly. "Now, honest Injun--did he?"
"Honest Injun! he didn't speak of it as either good or bad luck; simply asa matter of course, that at your father's death you should look him up,and let him know you were alone. Oh, he is a good fellow, Dan is, andglad, I am sure, to be of use to you."
Her lips opened in a little sigh of content, and a swift, radiant smilewas given him.
"I'm right glad you say that about him," she answered, "and I guess youknow him well, too. Akkomi likes him, and Akkomi's sharp."
The winner of the race here trotted back for the coin, and Lyster showedanother one, as an incentive for all to scatter along the beach again. Itlooked as though the two white people must pay for the grant of privacy onthe river-bank.
Having grown more at ease with him, 'Tana resumed again the patting andpressing of the clay, using only a little pointed stick, while Lysterwatched, with curiosity, the ingenious way in which she seemed to feel herway to form.
"Have you ever tried to draw?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Only to copy pictures, like I've seen in some papers, but they neverlooked right. But I want to do everything like that--to make pictures, andstatues, and music, and--oh, all the lovely things there are somewhere,that I've never seen--never will see them, I suppose. Sometimes, when Iget to thinking that I never will see them, I just get as ugly as adrunken man, and I don't care if I never do see anything but Indiansagain. I get so awful reckless. Say!" she said, again with that hard,short laugh, "girls back your way don't get wild like that, do they? Theydon't talk my way either, I guess."
"Maybe not, and few of them would be able, either, to do what we saw youdo in this river yesterday," he said kindly. "Dan is a judge of suchthings, you know, and he thought you very nervy."
"Nervy? Oh, yes; I guess he'd be nervy himself if he was needed. Say! canyou tell me about the camp, or settlement, at this Sinna Ferry? I neverwas there. He says white women are there. Do you know them?"
Lyster explained his own ignorance of the place, knowing it as he did onlythrough Dan's descriptions.
Then she, from her bit of Indian knowledge, told him Sinna was the oldnorth Indian name for Beaver. Then he got her to tell him other things ofthe Indian country, things of ghost-haunted places and strange witcheries,with which they confused the game and the fish. He fell to wondering whatmanner of man Rivers, the partner of Dan, had been, that his daughter hadgained such strange knowledge of the wild things. But any attempt to learnor question her history beyond yesterday was always checked in some way orother.
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