Two on the Trail: A Story of the Far Northwest

by Hulbert Footner

  XV

  THE MEETING

  The spot of the lake shore where Garth picketed the two horses wassomething under two miles from Mabyn's hut. The way led among the treeswhich filled this part of the valley of the lake; and underfoot theycould distinguish traces of an old trail. The growth ended abruptly atthe edge of a small, dry watercourse, which came down to the lake; andissuing into the open here, the riders beheld the dreaded goal of theirlong journey immediately before them.

  As they crossed the stones, they were ready to fancy they could hear,each the beating of the other's heart; and the scene before them wasbitten into their brains, to endure hideously vivid and minute whilelife endured. The shack presented a three-quarter view, front and side.It topped a gentle, uneven acclivity of grass, rising from thewatercourse at its side; while in front, the ground extended level ahundred feet to the edge of a cut-bank. This bank rose out of the lakesheer and loamy, to the height of a cottage roof; and over the edge hunga tangled fringe of grass-roots.

  Desolation was the cry of it all; winters upon winters had bleached thelogs of the shack silvery like old hair; the chimney had fallen; and allfour quarters of glass in the single window were out. At one time theslope between the hut and the bed of the stream had evidently been atheatre of industry; for the ground was pitted and hummocked and rutted;but long ago the grass had indifferently muffled it over, like graves inan old cemetery. In the centre of this waste stood, the picture ofdejection, an Indian-bred cayuse, miserable burlesque of the equinespecies, no bigger than a donkey, and incredibly hairy and misshapen.His back was galled; and one leg, which he painfully favoured, puffed totreble its size at the hock. Even the great cottonwood trees springingbeyond the hut, with their shattered branches, and blotched and greenishtrunks, breathed decay. An ancient dugout, lying at the mouth of thewatercourse, was, like everything else, rotting and seamed.

  And on the bench at the door of the hut sat the evil genius of thescene; a man with his legs sprawling in front of him, and his headfallen over and back against the wall. He made no move at theirapproach; and when they came close, they saw that he slept. Pitilesslyrevealed in the strong sunlight, he made a spectacle at which the mostindifferent stranger would have shuddered and sickened--and it wasreserved for the woman who had exalted him in her maiden's heart, to seehim then. His mouth hung open; he breathed stertorously; and the flies,buzzing in and out of the open door beside him, crawled at will over hisashen face. That his chin was freshly shaven, and his hair brushed,added to the ghastliness. The whole picture was horribly vivid; thelittlest details of it struck on the retinas of the two observers likeblows--the oblong patch of sunlight cleaving the gloom of the shackinside the door; six muskrat pelts above the man's head, tacked to thelogs to dry; an old foul pipe with a silver mounting, half fallen fromhis relaxed fingers and spilling ashes on the bench; his old-fashionedrifle leaning against the door-frame. Garth could have furnished thesize, the style and the make of that gun.

  Natalie turned a stony face to Garth. "It is he," she whispered.

  Garth thought of an old photograph she had shown him of a dark-hairedyouth sitting on a horse, with a charming, imperious grace of body andfeature, in which there was something godlike and unanswerable; andlooking at this wreck of a man, toothless, bald and livid, he was struckwith awe.

  "You have seen," he whispered to Natalie. "Let us ride back."

  She shook her head. "I must say what I came for," she said.

  "Will you dismount?" he asked.

  Natalie shuddered. "Never, here!" she whispered.

  In a moment she had commanded herself again. "Please speak to him," shesaid.

  "Mabyn!" called Garth peremptorily.

  The man's lids parted. Natalie was directly in front of him. As hissleep-stupefied eyes slowly took her in, he raised himself to an uprightposition, and struck his eyeballs sharply with his knuckles.

  Garth instinctively drew away a little.

  "A white woman!" muttered the man, lost in amazement.

  Natalie, her head slightly averted, sat her horse like a carven woman.

  Fear grew apace with wonder in Mabyn's eyes; his breath quickened; heceaselessly passed his hand in front of his face. "Natalie!" hemuttered, still in the toneless voice of one who sleeps. "Oh, my God!It's Natalie!"

  Grasping the edge of the bench, he pulled himself to his feet; and tooka few uncertain steps toward her. He put out his hand fearfully.

  Natalie sharply reined back her horse. "Don't touch me!" she said.

  It broke the spell that held him--but not wholly. His hands dropped tohis sides; a saner light appeared in his eyes; and he looked all around,as if to convince himself of the realness of his surroundings. On Garthhis eyes lingered stupidly for a moment; then impatiently returned toNatalie.

  "If it's you, how did you get here?" he asked quietly enough--stillbemused.

  "I came over the prairie, as every one comes," she said sharply.

  Mabyn frowned. "I'm wide awake," he said irritably. "I know where I am.I fell asleep on the bench half an hour ago--but," his voice deepenedand swelled on the note of awe, "_you_, Natalie! You or your wraith!I--I can't take it in!" The faded eyes bolted, and swept wearily andunseeingly over the lake.

  Natalie winced every time he spoke her name. "Try to collect yourself,"she said coldly. "There is no doubt of its being I."

  "The voice too!" he muttered, struck with the new thought. His eyesreturned to her. "Natalie--and not changed at all!" he murmureddreamily. "But more beautiful!"

  "If you please!" said Natalie haughtily.

  He still stood looking at her with something the air of a bewilderedchild, but more of the aged lunatic. "The first time I saw her, she wason a horse," he said in his dull voice. "But she was better dressed.Where did you get those clothes?" he asked suddenly.

  Natalie shot an appealing glance at Garth.

  He, in his over-mastering disgust of the man, could not put away thethought that there was something feigned in this excessive bewilderment."Come to yourself, Mabyn!" he said sharply. "We can't stop here!"

  Mabyn darted a startled, spiteful glance at the new speaker, and withoutanother word, turned and went back to the bench, where he sat, buryinghis face in his hands. Natalie and Garth looked at each other, scarcelyknowing how to act. But presently Mabyn lifted his head again; and,spying his pipe where it had fallen, picked it up, and attentivelyknocked out what remained of the ashes in the bowl.

  Natalie thought she might venture to address him again. "I havesomething important to tell you," she began.

  Mabyn darted a queer, furtive look at her; shame, suspicion,obsequiousness and a sudden, reborn passion all had a part in it."Won't you shake hands with me?" he asked suddenly.

  Natalie drew the long breath that invokes Patience and looked elsewhere.

  "You've changed toward me," the man whined.

  Indignation suddenly reddened her cheeks, and she levelled her blue eyesupon him in a glance that should have struck to his soul.

  But it failed to penetrate very far. "I know I've treated you badly,"he went on. "I was coming out in the spring, though; just as soon as Igot things straight. I've worked like a son-of-a-gun too, but luck hasalways been against me." His voice gathered assurance from his ownexcuses.

  "Never mind that now," said Natalie. "Please listen to what I have tosay."

  But the man, shrinking from matter hateful to his ears, strove to diverther. He struck his forehead with his knuckles, and jumped up. "By Gad!What's the matter with me!" he cried. "I never asked you in! It's awretched hole, but such as it is----" He had turned to the door. Suddenrecollection chopped off the speech midway; and he turned a furtive,frightened face over his shoulder to Natalie.

  "N-never mind," he gabbled hurriedly. "Don't come in! It's not fit toreceive you! It's better out here!" Little beads of sweat were springingout on his forehead.

  His whole bearing had been so wild and stupefied since his waking, thatthey attached small importance to this
display of terror. Nataliepatiently essayed to speak again; but again he interrupted.

  His face cleared. "You've left your outfit somewhere back on the trail,"he said eagerly. "I'll go back with you; and we can talk things overquietly there!" He actually started toward the watercourse, walking withjerky, uneven steps.

  Natalie made no move to follow. "I will say what I have to say here,"she spoke after him.

  Mabyn was voluble, scarcely coherent in his incontinent desire to takeher away from the hut. Natalie waited, letting him talk himself out.Finally compelled to give in, he returned with strange, apprehensiveglances around the hut, and over the summits of the hills behind. Garththought his brain was beginning to be affected by a solitary life.

  However, he now listened patiently enough.

  "You have not written to your mother or to me in many months," beganNatalie coldly; "and your letters for three years past have given us noinformation. Your mother's whole thought is of you; and through heranxiety and suspense she is worn to a shadow of what she was; thedoctors tell her she has a mortal disease that must soon prevail."

  In spite of herself Natalie's voice softened as she delivered herpitiful plea; but it was not from any kindness for him. "She has beenvery kind to me all these years," she went on, "and I, to ease her whatI could of the torment of her mind during her last days, volunteered togo with her to find you. Her age and her infirmities prevented her fromcoming any farther than Prince George. I have been fortunate in findingfriends who have assisted me the rest of the way. I have come to begyou, on behalf of your mother, to let her see you before she dies. Sheis waiting in Prince George. She bade me tell you that neither poverty,misfortune nor disgrace could abate any of her love for you; that shewould die happy if she might once more press your hand against hercheek."

  Garth watched Mabyn narrowly while Natalie was speaking. He saw by theman's rapt expression that her voice charmed his senses, while thepurport of what she said was wholly lost on his consciousness. When hervoice broke a little at the close, Mabyn's lips parted, and his breathcame quicker--but it was no tenderness for a devoted parent, only apassion purely selfish, that caused his lack-lustre eyes to glitteragain.

  "These letters," concluded Natalie, drawing them forth as she spoke,"three of which I have brought from the post office, and the fourthwhich she gave me herself, will let you know, better than I can tellyou, what she feels."

  Mabyn took the letters; and thrusting them carelessly in his pocket--onefell to the ground and lay there unheeded--snatched back at Natalie'shand, and attempted to retain it. Reining her horse back, she wrenchedit free.

  A little shame reached the seat of Mabyn's consciousness. He reddened."I'm not a leper," he muttered. "You came to me of your own free will,didn't you?"

  "Build nothing on that!" said Natalie instantly and clearly. "I allow noclaim on me!"

  Mabyn quickly changed to obsequiousness. "I don't want to quarrel withyou, Natalie," he whined. "Especially not after what you've just done!"

  He went to his bench again; and sat heavily. Again he struck hisforehead with his knuckles. "Gad! I can't yet realize it is you that ishere!"

  Natalie looked at Garth as much as to say that she had accomplished whatshe came for.

  The look was not lost on Mabyn. He sprang up. "I'll do just whatyou want!" he said hurriedly. "I'll start for Prince George atonce--to-day--this minute! God knows there's nothing to keep me here! Youhave a spare horse, I suppose. I've nothing but that galled cayuse andanother as bad!" He uttered his cracked laugh in a tone that was intendedto be ingratiating. "That's the advantage of poverty! I've no preparationsto make; so lead on!"

  Natalie paused irresolutely. This was a contingency she had not foreseen.She shuddered at the possibilities it opened up. In her perplexity shelooked again at Garth.

  "We will leave you a horse," said he curtly. "And your passage out fromthe lake Settlement will be arranged for."

  "And what money you need," added Natalie in a low tone, and blushingpainfully.

  But Mabyn's feelings were not hurt. "I can go with you just as well," heblustered.

  Natalie looked at Garth once more.

  "You may follow us as soon as you choose," said Garth coolly. "We do notdesire your company on the way."

  For the first time Mabyn appeared to recognize Garth's presence on thescene. He turned a baleful eye on him; and his lips curled back over hisgums. "Who are _you_?" he snarled, adding an oath.

  "That is neither here nor there," said Garth. "I speak for Miss Bland."

  "Mrs. Mabyn, you mean," sneered the other, thinking to crush him withthe information.

  "She does not use that name," returned Garth imperturbably.

  Mabyn turned furiously to Natalie. "Who is this man?" he cried, hiscracked voice sliding into falsetto; "this sleek young sprig that ridesalone with you through the country! I demand to know! I have a right toknow!"

  "I admit no right!" Natalie said firmly.

  Mabyn, beside himself with jealous rage, no longer knew what he said."You won't explain!" he cried. "You _can't_ explain! Here's a nastysituation for a married woman!"

  Garth's self-control, stretched on the rack through all this scene,suddenly snapped in twain. Temper with Garth took the form of laughter;mocking, dangerous laughter, that issued startlingly from his gravelips.

  He laughed now. "You scoundrel!" he said in cool, incisive tones--thoughhe was not a whit less blinded by passion than Mabyn himself--"after thekind of life you've been leading up here, have you still the assuranceto lay a claim upon _her_! And to cast a reflection on _her_ good name!Have you no mirror to see what you are? Go in the lake, then, and seethe vile record written on your face!"

  Mabyn was staggered. Garth's terrible scorn penetrated the lastwrappings of the warmly nurtured ego within. He shot a startled glanceat Garth; and from Garth to the hut and behind, as if wondering how muchhe knew.

  Garth was not through with him. He slipped his stirrups, preparatory toleaping off his horse. Natalie trembled at the quiet man's new aspect.

  "Garth!" she entreated urgently.

  The sound of her voice recalled him to himself. Settling back in hissaddle, he abruptly turned his horse, and went off a little way,struggling to regain his self-command.

  Mabyn, misunderstanding, was vastly lifted up by this word of Natalie's,and the writhing ego within hastened to repair the horrid breach Garthhad made. He approached her, hidden by her horse from Garth.

  "Oh, Natalie!" he gabbled whiningly; "don't listen to him. He's a lowcur! But he can't make trouble between you and me! Send him away!Natalie, I seem to have acted badly; but I can explain everything!Circumstances were all against me! In my heart I've never swerved fromyou! I dream of you every night in my lonesomeness! Wherever I look Isee your face before my eyes!"

  It was the old trick of passionate speech; Natalie remembered the verywords of old; but the man--she averted her head from the hideousspectacle. She was afraid to move or cry out, sure that Garth in hispresent mind would kill him if he heard.

  Mabyn, conceiving nothing of the sublime irony of the figure he made,continued to plead. "Natalie, don't turn away from me! You took me forbetter or worse, remember! You found me at a disadvantage to-day; Idon't look like this ordinarily. And you can make whatever you like ofme! Remember the old days at home! I am the same man--Bert--your Bert!Look--he can't see us--I kneel to you as I did then!"

  And down he went on his knees, stretching out his arms to her.

  There was an odd, slight sound behind him. They both looked--and frozein the attitude of looking. Garth from his station, seeing the new lookof horror overspread Natalie's face, spurred to join her.

  There, clinging to the corner of the cabin for support, stood the figureof a woman. Her brown skin was blanched to a livid yellow; and her eyeswere the eyes of one dead from a shock. She swayed forward from thewaist as if her backbone could no longer support her. At her feet a tinpail emptied wild cherries on the ground.

  Maby
n scrambled to his feet, shamed, chagrined, furious. "What do youwant around here?" he cried brutally--even now seeking to outface her.

  The piteous, stricken girl moistened her lips; and essayed more thanonce to speak, before any words came. "'Erbe't, who is this woman?" shesaid quite simply at last.

  "What is that to you?" he blustered roughly, thinking to beat her down;perhaps to kill her outright with cruelty. "This is my wife!"

  "Oh, no! no!" whispered Natalie, sick with the sight of so much misery.

  It is doubtful if the girl heard her. She tottered forward; and seizedand clung to Mabyn's arm. Her breast was heaved on hard, quick pantslike a wounded animal's; and her eyes were as frantic, and as inhuman.

  "'Erbe't, who am I?" she breathed.

  Mabyn, seeing that Natalie heard and understood, beside himself, andreckless with rage, flung out his arm, throwing her heavily to theground. "You! damn you!" he cried. "You're just my----"

  Natalie, with a low cry of horror, instinctively clapped her heels toher horse's ribs, and set off down the hill. Garth wheeled after her.

  "Oh, stay--stay and help her!" she gasped.

  "You come first!" said Garth grimly.

  Mabyn, as Natalie turned, sprang after her; and running desperately,managed to cling to her stirrup. Casting off the last vestiges ofmanliness he wept and prayed her to wait for him. Her horse, Caspar,kicked out wildly, and struck him off. He lay on the ground sobbing andcursing; striving to drag himself along with clawing hands.

  Just before they gained the watercourse, Garth looked over his shoulder;and his heart leapt into his throat. The brown woman was reaching forMabyn's rifle. He shouted a warning; and desperately strove to throwhis horse behind Natalie. But it was too late. Hard upon his voice, theshot rang. A strange, low cry broke from Natalie; and she reeled in hersaddle. Garth, spurring ahead, grasped Caspar's bridle, and caught herfrom falling. A pang, far more dreadful than the hurt of a bullet, smotehis own breast.