Two on the Trail: A Story of the Far Northwest

by Hulbert Footner

  III

  ON THE TRAIL

  At a quarter to eight next morning Garth was waiting again in theparlour of the Bristol Hotel. Promptly to the minute Natalie camesailing in, in her own inimitable way, walking all of a piece, with asweep like a banner, Garth thought. When he saw her, his last doubt ofthe reality of this intoxicating journey vanished. She bore no tracenow of the seriousness of the night before; all smiles and red-cheekedeagerness, she radiated the very joy of being.

  "Enter Mrs. Pink!" she cried.

  She had a brown valise, a fat bundle, a flat, square package wrapped inpaper, a coat and a parasol.

  "You said trunks were taboo," she explained. "I only had one valise andI couldn't nearly get everything in. Indeed I sat up half the nightstudying how little I could do with."

  "We'll get you a duffle-bag at the Landing," he said.

  "Am I suitably dressed?" she demanded, showing herself.

  Garth smiled. She was perfection; how could he blame her? She hadinterpreted his suggestions as to sober, serviceable clothes, in adiabolically well-fitting suit of brown, the colour of her hair. At thewrists and neck of her brown-silk waist were spotless bands of white;and on her head was a dashing little brown hat with green wings. Sheexhibited square-toed little brown boots as an evidence of exceedingcommon sense; and was pulling on a pair of absurdly small boy's gloves.This most suitable costume for the North was completed by a brown-silkparasol.

  "All in place and well tied down," she announced. "Nothing to fly orcatch!"

  Garth pictured to himself the effect likely to be created in thewilderness by this adorable acme of the feminine, with something betweena smile and a groan.

  They walked to the post office, quaffing deep of the delicious morningair, Garth glancing sidewise at his exuberant companion, and wondering,like the old lady in the nursery rhyme, if this could really be he. Itwas a day to make one walk a-tiptoe; the sky overhead bloomed with theexquisite pale tints of a Northern summer's morning; and the bricks ofOliver Avenue were washed with gold.

  Natalie's face fell a little at the sight of the stage-coach; for ithad nothing in common with the imagined vehicle of romance except thefour horses; and they were but sorry beasts. In fact, it was nothingbut a clumsy, uncovered wagon, which had never been washed since itwas built; and was worn to a dull drab in a long acquaintance with thealternating mud and dust of the trail. Behind the driver's seat was asort of well, for the mail bags and express packages; and behind that,two excruciatingly narrow seats for the passengers, running lengthwisebetween the rear wheels. The entrance was by a step at the tail-board.

  Everything awaited the word to start. The driver, whip in hand, stoodby the front wheel surrounded by a group of idlers; and his two greatmongrel huskies, squatted on the pavement with expectant eyes on theirmaster. Garth helped Natalie into the body of the wagon; and, climbingin after her, disposed her baggage with his own already in the well. Theeyes of the driver and all his satellites were promptly transferred inwide wonder to the girl with the green wings in her hat. Garth, with akeen sense of difficulties ahead, was indignant and uncomfortable; butNatalie, serenely conscious that everything was in place, dropped herhands in her lap, and chatted away, as if quite unaware of herconspicuousness.

  Garth had put Natalie in the right-hand corner of the little cockpit.Another woman passenger was already in place opposite; and the aspect ofthis lady made an additional element in his uneasiness. She, too, wasgotten up bravely according to her lights. She seemed something underforty, tall and angular; her hair, a crass yellow, was tied with a largegirlish bow of black ribbon behind; and in her cheeks she had crudelystriven to recall the hues of youth. Around her long neck another blackribbon accentuated the scrawny lines it was designed to hide; and ontop of all she wore a wide black hat, which had a fresh yet collapsedeffect, as if it had long been cherished under the lid of a trunk. Herknees touched Natalie's, and Garth's gorge rose at her nearness to hisprecious charge--and yet the antique girl greeted them with a sort ofanxious, appealing smile, which disarmed him in spite of himself.

  Promptly at eight o'clock the door of the post office was opened; andthe last bag of mail was thrown into the stage. Still the driver made nomove to climb into his seat; and Garth, becoming restless as the minutespassed, got out and approached him.

  "Good morning, driver," he said, while the bystanders stared afresh."What's the delay?"

  He gazed at Garth with a mild and cautious blue eye; and spat deliberatelybefore replying. He was one of those withered little men, with a shock ofgrizzled hair, and deeply seamed face and neck and hands, who might beforty-five or seventy. As it turned out, Paul Smiley was within threeyears of the latter figure. He had on a pearl Fedora very much over oneear, a new suit of store clothes with a mighty watch chain, and new boots,which seemed like little souls put to torment--they screeched horriblywhenever he moved.

  "I couldn't start off and leave Nick Grylls," he said deprecatingly. "Hehas spoke for two seats."

  Garth was sensible that he was hearing a great man's name.

  "I tell you it ain't often Nick Grylls travels by the stage," continuedSmiley, addressing the bystanders impressively. "He hires a rig and ateam and a driver to take him to the Landing, _he_ does."

  "Who is this Mr. Grylls?" asked Garth, pursuing the reporter's instinct.

  "Don't know Nick Grylls!" exclaimed old Paul, exchanging a wonderingglance around the circle. "You _must_ be a stranger! Nick Grylls is awonderful bright man, wonderful! He's the biggest free-trader in theNorth country; trades down Lake Miwasa way. Wonderful influence with thenatives; does what he wants with them. I tell you there ain't much northof the Landing Nick Grylls ain't in on. Here he comes now! All aboard!"

  As Garth resumed his seat by Natalie he saw a burly, broad-shoulderedfigure hurrying along the sidewalk; he saw under the wide, stiff-brimmedhat, a red face with an insolent, all-conquering expression, and fatlips rolling a big cigar. There followed after, a young breed staggeringunder the weight of a Gladstone bag, which matched its owner. Arrived atthe stage, Nick Grylls flung a thick word of greeting to the bystanders,and taking the bag from the boy, threw it among the mail bags as onetosses a pillow; and climbed into the seat by the driver. The breedsprang on the step behind; another passenger took the place oppositeGarth; old Paul cracked his whip and shouted to his horses; the dogsleaped and barked madly; and the Royal Mail swung away to the Northwith its oddly assorted company.

  As they rattled through the suburbs the fat back on the front seatshifted heavily; and the red face was turned on them.

  "Hello, old Nell!" shouted Nick.

  The woman simpered unhappily. "How's yourself, Mr. Grylls?" shereturned.

  "Fine!" he bellowed from his deep chest.

  This little manoeuvre in the front seat was merely for the purpose ofobtaining a prolonged stare at Natalie. The insolence of the little,swimming, pig-eyes infuriated Garth. The young man opposite him too, asullen, scowling bravo, was staring boldly at Natalie. Garth stiffenedhimself to play a difficult part.

  "I feel like a rare, exotic bird," whispered Natalie in his ear.

  "You are," he returned grimly. "I think it would be better if you didnot speak my name," he added. "I will not address you by yours. We mustbe prepared to parry questions."

  "I will be careful," she said.

  To do him justice, Nick Grylls, on a close examination of Natalie, hadthe grace to feel a little ashamed of his rough outburst. He altered hisfeatures to what he thought was a genteel expression; but Garth calledit a leer.

  "Bully day for our trip," he said.

  They all agreed in various tones; even Garth. He knew it would not helpNatalie for him to start by inviting trouble.

  "You're the New York newspaper man," said Grylls to Garth.

  "That's right," said Garth quietly.

  "They tell me you're going to write up the country," said Grylls;exhibiting that curious blend of suspicion, contempt and respect hiskind has for the fellow who
writes. "I can tell you quite a bit aboutthe country myself," he added with a braggadocio air.

  Garth thanked him.

  "It's an onusual trip for a lady," continued Grylls, cunningly trying todraw Natalie into the conversation; "but nothing out of the way at thisseason. The Bishop travels comfortable enough; separate tent for thewomen; and an ile stove like."

  His move was not successful; Natalie continued looking charmingly blank.Old Paul created a diversion by facing them with a confiding smile. Thepert Fedora with its curly brim was comically ill-suited to his seamedold face, and mild blue eye. He pointed with his whip down a road on theoutskirts of the town.

  "My place is down there," he said simply. "Just sold it last week; threehundred acres at three hundred dollars an acre. They're layin' it out intown lots."

  "Good God, man!" cried Grylls. "You could buy me out and have a pileover!" Every time he spoke, he glanced over his shoulder at Natalie.

  Old Paul smiled up at him admiringly. "But this is only a sort ofaccident," he said. "You made yours."

  "What in he--Why are you driving the stage, then?" demanded Grylls.

  "Well," said the old man slowly; "seems though I just got in the way ofit. Seems I just _had_ to keep hanging on to the ribbons, or lose holtaltogether."

  "What are you going to do with all that money?" Grylls wanted to know.

  "Well," said Paul with a quiet grin; "I bought me a new hat like theswells wear; and a pair of Eastern shoes. They pinch me somepin' cruel,too."

  "Why don't you travel East, Mr. Smiley?" suggested Nell. She whom theyall addressed so cavalierly was particular to put a handle to each name.

  "Travel! I had enough o' that, my girl," he said. "Forty-five years agoI travelled East to Winnipeg and got me a wife. Brought her back overthe plains in a Red River cart. Eight hunder miles, and hostile redskinsall the way! What's travellin' nowadays!"

  "Were you born out here?" asked Garth, shaping a story for the _Leader_in his mind.

  "At Howard House, west of here in the Rockies," said Paul. "My fatherwas Hudson's Bay trader there."

  "Paul's an old-timer all right," said Grylls carelessly. He wasbecoming bored with the trend the conversation was taking.

  "One of the first eight who broke ground in Prince George," said the oldman proudly. "Yonder's the first two-story house in the country. I builtit. No!" he continued thoughtfully; "I'm keeping my house and ten acres;and me and the old woman's calc'latin' to stop there and watch the marcho' progress by our door. She wouldn't give up her front step for all thereal-estate sharks in Prince George. But," he added with a chuckle, "Ishouldn't wonder if she was shocked some when them trolley-cars I heartell of goes kitin' by."

  "I kin understand just how she feels," remarked old Nell to Natalie, withher apologetic little smile. "What could take the place of a home withreal nice things in it? I got a house up near the Landing with a carpetin every room. I just love to buy things for it. You see I never had whatyou might call a regular house until just lately. This trip I bought apink-and-gold chiny washin' set; and a down comfort for the best room. Inever could tire of fixin' it up. We'll pass there to-morrow afternoon.I'd just love to have you step in--"

  Grylls laughed boisterously.

  "Ah-h, shut up, Nell!" muttered the dark young man beside her.

  "Thank you, I'd like to see it," said Natalie, with a flash of the blueeyes.

  They had now left the town behind; and were rolling, or rather bumping,over the prairie. Here, it is not an empty plain, but a series ofnatural, park-like meadows, broken by graceful clumps of poplar andwillow. On a prairie trail when the wheels begin to bite through thesod, and sink into ruts, a new track is made beside the old--there isplenty of room; and in turn another and another, spreading wide on eachside, crossing and interweaving like a tangled skein of black cottonflung down in the green.

  Natalie had never seen such luxuriant greenness; such diverse andplentiful wild flowers. Nell pointed out the brilliant fire-weed, blendingfrom crimson to purple, the wild sunflower, the lovely painted-cup,old-rose in colour; and there were other strange and showy plants shecould not name. Occasionally they passed a log cabin, gayly whitewashed,and with its sod roof sprouting greenly. These dwellings, though crude,fulfilled the great aim of architecture; they were a part of the landscapeitself.

  When they stopped at one of these places for dinner, Garth watchedNatalie narrowly to see how she would receive her first taste of roughfare. But far from quailing at the salt pork, beans and bitter tea, sheate with as much gusto as if it had always been her portion. "She'lldo," he thought approvingly.

  Afterward as they toiled up a long, sandy rise in the full heat of theafternoon sun, Paul, the old dandy, had leisure while his horses walkedto devote to his passengers. He was pleased as a child at the interestshown by Garth and Natalie in his anecdotes. Turning to them now, hepointed to a high mound topped by a splendid pine standing by itself,and said:

  "Cannibal Hill. Used to be an Indian called Swift had his lodge there. Afine figger of a man too; high-chested; beautiful-muscled. He was a goodIndian; and I want to say when a redskin is good, he's damn good--begpardon, Miss--he's good and no mistake, I should say. He has a high-mindedway of looking at things, which ought to make a white man blush; but itdon't; for them kind makes the softest tradin'. I been a trader myself.

  "This here Swift had a wife and ten childer, that he thought a power of.He hunted for 'em night and day; and he come to be known as the bestprovider in the tribe. Well, come one winter he went crazy; yes, ma'am,plumb looney; and he went for 'em with his hatchet. He killed and _et_'em one at a time, beginning with the youngest; while the others waitedtheir turn. You see an old-fashioned Indian was the boss of his family;and they didn't dast fight him back. Right up there on that hill, underthat very same tree; I seen the ashes of their bones myself. In theSpring he come down to the settlement and give himself up; said hedidn't want to live no more. Shouldn't think he would."

  Grylls made no secret of his impatience with the old man's yarns. Heinterrupted him, careless of his feelings.

  "Are you making the round trip with the Bishop?" he asked Garth.

  Garth answered in the affirmative.

  "I have a rabbit-skin robe at the Landing I'd be glad to lend the lady,"he said leering sidewise at Natalie.

  "Much obliged," said Garth agreeably; "but we really have all we canuse."

  "What does _she_ say?" growled Nick.

  "Thank you very much," said Natalie quickly; "but I could not think ofaccepting it."

  He had forced her to speak to him at last; but the words were hardlyto his satisfaction. He flung around in his seat with an ugly scowl.

  Meanwhile old Paul was still pursuing his thoughts about redskins."Indians think when they go off their heads they're obliged to becannibals," he continued agreeably. "They can't separate the two ideessomehow. So when a redskin feels a screw beginning to work loose upabove, he settles on a nice, fat, tender subject. He says his head'sfull of ice, and has to be melted. I mind one winter at Caribou Lakeforty years back, we were all nigh starving, and our bones was comin'through our skins, like ten-p'ny nails in a paper bag. And one nightthey comes snoopin' into the settlement an Indian woman as sleek andsoft and greasy as a fresh sausage--and lickin' her chops--um--um!There was a man with her and he let it out. She had knifed two younghalf-breed widows, as fair and beautiful a two girls as ever I see--andshe et 'em, yes, ma'am! And nobody teched her; they warn't no policein them days. She lives to the Lake at this day!"

  "Good Law! Mr. Smiley!" cried Nell with an uneasy glance at the grinninghalf-breed on the tail-step.

  "Keep cool, old gal!" growled Nick. "Nobody wouldn't pick you out for asquare meal!"

  Nell's companion rewarded this sally with an enormous guffaw; and poor,mortified Nell made believe to laugh too. Natalie's cheeks burned.

  "I suppose you hunted buffalo in the old days," said Garth to old Paul.

  "Sure, I was quite a hunter," he returned with
a casual air. "Itweren't everybody as was considered a hunter, neither. You had to earnyour reppytation. We didn't do no drivin' over cliffs or wholesaleslaughterin'; it was clean huntin' with us, powder and ball. I mind theyused to make a big party, as high as two hundred men, whites, breeds,and friendly redskins. Everything was conducted regular; camp-guardsand a council and a captain was elected; and all rules strict observed.Every night we camped inside a barricade. One of the rules was, no toughold bulls useless for meat should be killed under penalty of twenty-fivedollars. I was had up before the council for that; but I proved it wasself-defense."

  "Tell us about it," suggested Garth.

  The old man scratched his head, and shot a dubious glance at Natalie. "Iain't sure as this is quite a proper story," he said. "You see, I washaving a wash, as it might happen, at the edge of a slough--a slough isa little pond in the prairie, Miss, as you're a stranger--and my clothesand my gun was lying beside me, and my horse was croppin' the grass atthe top of the rise. When I was as clean as slough water would make me,which isn't much, 'cause I stirred up a power of mud, and soap was anextravagance them days, I begun to dress myself. Well, I had my shirton, and was sittin' down to pull on my pants, when I heard my cayusestart off on a dead run. I looked up quick-like and blest if therewasn't old Bill Buffalo a-pawin' and a-bellerin' and a-shakin' of hishead, not thirty yards away! Soon as he see me look up he come chargin'down on me with his big head close to the ground like a locomotivecow-catcher. And me in that awkward state of dishabilly!"

  "What did you do, Mr. Smiley?" cried Nell in suspense.

  Paul shifted his quid, spat, and shoved his pearl Fedora a littlefurther over his ear. "G'lang there," he cried shaking the reins. "Ireached my gun before he reached me," he said; "and I gave him thecharge, bang in his little red eye. He reared up; and come down kerplunkright on top o' me; only I rolled away just in time!"

  * * * * *

  The trail to the Landing is considered something of a road up North; andthe natives are apt to stare pityingly at the effeminate stranger whocomplains of the holes. It is something of a road compared to what comesafter; but Natalie, hitherto accustomed to cushions and springs in herdrives, could not conceive of anything worse. As the afternoon waned,what with the heat, the hard, narrow seat, and the incessant lurchingand bumping of the crazy stage, which threw her now backward till herhead threatened to snap off, and now forward on Nell's knees, theblooming roses in Natalie's cheeks faded, and her smile grew wan.Poor Garth, anxiously watching her, almost burst with suppressedsolicitousness.

  But at last the journey came to its end; and at six o'clock the RoyalMail with its bruised and famished passengers swung into the yard atForbie's, the halfway house, fifty miles from Prince George. Garth hadlearned that the men slept in an outside bunkhouse, while the women werereceived into the farmhouse itself. He hastened to interview Mrs. Forbiein private, that the dreadful possibility of Natalie's being asked toshare a room with the other woman passenger might be avoided. It isdoubtful if Natalie would have taken any harm from poor old Nell; butGarth was a young man falling in love; and so, ferociously virtuous injudging Nell's kind. Natalie had a room to herself.