The Gun-Brand

by James B. Hendryx

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE WHISKEY RUNNERS

  When Lapierre left Chloe Elliston's cottage after promising toaccompany her to Snare Lake, he immediately sought out LeFroy, who wassuperintending the distribution of the last of the supplies in thestorehouse.

  The two proceeded to LeFroy's room, and at the end of an hour soughtthe camp of the canoemen. Ten minutes later, two lean-bodied scoutstook the trail for the Northward, with orders to report immediately thewhereabouts of MacNair. If luck favoured him, Lapierre knew thatMacNair accompanied by the pick of his hunters, would be far from SnareLake, upon his semi annual pilgrimage to intercept the fall migrationof the caribou herd, along the northernmost reaches of the barrengrounds.

  If MacNair had not yet started upon the fall hunt, the journey to SnareLake must be delayed. For the crafty Lapierre had no intentionwhatever of risking a meeting with MacNair in the heart of his owndomain. Neither had he any intention of journeying to Snare Lake forthe purpose of securing evidence against MacNair to be used in a courtof law. His plans for crushing MacNair's power included no aid fromconstituted authority.

  He noted with keen satisfaction that the girl's hatred for MacNair hadbeen greatly intensified, not so much by the attack upon her school, asby the stories she heard from the lips of Indians who passed back andforth upon the river. The posting of those Indians had been a happybit of forethought on the part of Lapierre; and their stories had lostnothing in LeFroy's interpretation.

  Lapierre contrived to make the succeeding days busy ones. Byarrangement with Chloe, a system of credits had been established, andfrom daylight to dark he was busy about the storehouse, paying off andoutfitting his canoemen, who were to fare North upon the trap-linesuntil the breaking up of the ice in the spring would call them oncemore to the lakes and the rivers, to move Lapierre's freight, handlehis furs, and deliver his contraband whiskey.

  Each evening Lapierre repaired to the cottage, and LeFroy at his postin the storehouse nodded sagely to himself as the notes of the girl'srich contralto floated loud and clear above the twang of theaccompanying guitar.

  Always the quarter-breed spoke eagerly to Chloe of the proposed trip toSnare Lake, and bitterly he regretted the enforced delay incident tooutfitting the trappers. And always, with the skill and finesse of theborn intriguer, by a smile, a suggestion, or an adroitly wordedquestion, he managed to foster and to intensify her hatred for BruteMacNair.

  On the sixth day after their departure, the scouts returned from theNorthward and reported that MacNair had travelled for many days acrossthe barrens, in search of the caribou herds. Followed, then, anotherconference with LeFroy. The remaining canoemen were outfitted withsurprising celerity. And at midnight a big freight canoe, loaded tothe gunwale with an assortment of cheap knives and hatchets, bolts ofgay-coloured cloth, and cheaper whiskey broke through the everthickening skim of shore ice, and headed Northward under the personaldirection of that master of all whiskey runners, Louis LeFroy.

  The next day Lapierre, with a great show of eagerness, informed Chloethat he was ready to undertake the journey to Snare Lake.Enthusiastically the girl set about her preparation, and the followingmorning, accompanied by Big Lena and Lapierre, took her place in acanoe manned by four lean-shouldered paddlers.

  Just below "the narrows," on the northeastern shore of Snare Lake, andalmost upon the site of Old Fort Enterprise, erected and occupied byLieutenant, later Sir John Franklin during the second winter of hisfirst Arctic expedition, Bob MacNair had built his fort. The fortitself differed in no important particular from many of the log tradingforts of the Hudson Bay Company. Grouped about the long, low building,within the enclosure of the log stockade, were the cabins of Indianswho had forsaken the vicissitudes of the lean, barren grounds andattached themselves permanently to MacNair's colony.

  Under his tutelage, they learned to convert the work of their handsinto something more nearly approaching the comforts of existence thananything they had ever known. Where, as trappers of fur, they hadsucceeded, by dint of untold hardship and privation and suffering, inobtaining the barest necessities of life from the great fur company,they now found themselves housed in warm, comfortable cabins, eatinggood food, and clothing their bodies, and the bodies of their wives andchildren, in thick, warm clothing that defied the rigours of the Arcticwinters.

  While to the credit of each man, upon MacNair's books, stood an amountin tokens of "made beaver," which to any trapper in all the Northlandwould have spelled wealth beyond wildest dreams. And so they came torespect this stern, rugged man who dealt with them fairly--to love him,and also to fear him. And upon Snare Lake his word became the law,from which there was no appeal. Tender as a woman in sickness,counting no cost or hardship too dear in the rendering of assistance tothe needy, he was at the same time hard and unbending toward wilfuloffenders, and a very real terror to the enemies of his people.

  He had killed men for selling whiskey to his Indians. And those of hisown people who drank the whiskey, he had flogged withdog-whips--floggings that had been administered in no half-hearted oruncertain manner, and that had ceased only upon the tiring of his arm.And many there were among his Indians who could testify that the armwas slow to tire.

  To this little colony, upon the fourth day after his departure fromChloe Elliston's school on the Yellow Knife, came LeFroy with hisfreighted canoe. And because it was not his first trip among them, allknew his mission.

  It so happened that at the time MacNair left for the barren grounds,Sotenah, the leader of the young men, the orator who had lauded MacNairto the skies and counselled a summary wiping out of Chloe Elliston'sschool, chanced to be laid up with an injury to his foot. And, as hecould not accompany the hunters, MacNair placed him in charge of thefort during his absence. Upon his back Sotenah carried scars of manyfloggings. And the memory of these remained with him long after thedeadly effects of the cheap whiskey that begot them had passed away.And now, as he stood upon the shore of the lake surrounded by the oldmen, and the boys who were not yet permitted to take the caribou trail,his face was sullen and black as he greeted LeFroy. For the feel ofthe bite of the gut-lash was strong upon him.

  "_B'jo'_! _B'jo'_! _Nitchi_!" greeted LeFroy, smiling into thescowling face.

  "_B'jo'_!" grunted the younger man with evident lack of enthusiasm.

  "_Kah_ MacNair?"

  The Indian returned a noncommittal shrug.

  LeFroy repeated his question, at the same time taking from his pocket acheap clasp-knife which he extended toward the Indian. The otherregarded the knife in silence; then, reaching out his hand, took itfrom LeFroy and examined it gravely.

  "How much?" he asked. LeFroy laughed.

  "You ke'p," he said, and stepping to the canoe, threw back the blanket,exposing to the covetous eyes of the assembled Indians the huge pile ofsimilar knives, and the hatchets, and the bolts of gay-coloured goods.

  A few moments of adroit questioning sufficed to acquaint LeFroy withMacNair's prices for similar goods; and the barter began.

  Where MacNair and the Hudson Bay Company charged ten "skins," or "madebeaver," for an article, LeFroy charged five, or four, or even three,until the crowding Indians became half-crazed with the excitement ofbarter. And while this excitement was at its height, with scarcelyhalf of his goods disposed of, LeFroy suddenly declared he would sellno more, and stepping into the canoe pushed out from the bank.

  He turned a deaf ear to the frantic clamourings of those who had beenunable to secure the wonderful bargains, and ordering his canoemen topaddle down the lake some two or three hundred yards, deliberatelyprepared to camp. Hardly had his canoe touched the shore before he wasagain surrounded by the clamouring mob. Whereupon he faced them and,striking an attitude, harangued them in their own tongue.

  He had come, he said, hoping to find MacNair and to plead with him todeal fairly with his people. It is true that MacNair pays more for thelabour of their hands than the company does for their furs, and indoing so he has
proved himself a friend of the Indians. But he canwell afford to pay more. Is not the _pil chickimin_--the gold--worthmore even than the finest of skins?

  He reached beneath the blankets and, drawing forth one of the cheapknives, held it aloft. For years, he told them, the great fur companyhas been robbing the Indians. Has been charging them two, three, four,and even ten times the real value of the goods they offer in barter.But the Indians have not known this. Even he, LeFroy, did not know ituntil the _kloshe kloochman_--the good white woman--came into the Northand built a school at the mouth of the Yellow Knife. She is the realfriend of the Indians. For she brought goods, even more goods than arefound in the largest of the Hudson Bay posts, and she sells them atprices unheard of--at their real value in the land of the white man.

  "See now!" he cried, holding the knife aloft, "in the store of MacNair,for this knife you will pay eight skins. Who will buy it for two?"

  A dozen Indians crowded forward, and the knife passed into the hands ofan old squaw. Other knives and hatchets changed hands, and yards ofbolt goods were sold at prices that caused the black eyes of thepurchasers to glitter with greed.

  "Why do you stay here?" cried LeFroy suddenly. "Oh! my people, why doyou remain to toil all your lives in the mines--to be robbed of thework of your hands? Come to the Yellow Knife and join those who arealready enjoying the fruits of their labours! Where all have plenty,and none are asked to toil and dig in the dirt of the mines. Where allthat is required is to sit in the school and learn from books, andbecome wise in the ways of the white man."

  The half-breed paused, swaying his body to and fro as he gazed intentlyinto the eyes of the greed-crazed horde. Suddenly his voice arosealmost to a shriek. "You are free men--dwellers in a free land! Whois MacNair, that he should hold you in servitude? Why should you toilto enrich him? Why should you bow down beneath his tyranny? Who is_he_ to make laws that you shall obey?" He shifted his gaze to theupturned face of Sotenah. "Who is he to say: 'You shall drink nofirewater'? And who is he to flog you when you break that law? I tellyou in the great storehouse on the Yellow Knife is firewater for all!The white man's drink! The drink that makes men strong--and happy--andwise as gods!"

  He called loudly. Two of his canoemen rolled a cask to his feet, and,upending it, broached in the head. Seizing a tin cup, LeFroy plungedit into the cask and drank with a great smacking of lips. Then,refilling the cup, he passed it to Sotenah.

  "See!" he cried, "it is a present from the _kloshe kloochman_ to thepeople of MacNair! The people who are down-trodden and oppressed!"Under the spell of the man's words, all fear of the wrath of MacNairvanished, and Sotenah greedily seized the cup and drank, while abouthim crowded the others rendering the night hideous with their frenziedcries of exultation.

  The cask was quickly emptied, and another broached. Old men, women,and children, all drank--and fighting, and leaping, and dancing, andyelling, returned to drink again. For, never within the memory of theoldest, had any Indian drunk the white man's whiskey for which he hadnot paid.

  Darkness fell. Fires were lighted upon the beach, and the wild orgycontinued. Other casks were opened, and the drink-crazed Indiansyelled and fought and sang in a perfect frenzy of delirium.Fire-brands were hurled high into the air, to fall whirling among thecabins. And it was these whirling brands that riveted the attention ofthe occupants of the big canoe that approached swiftly along the shorefrom the direction of the Yellow Knife. LeFroy had timed his workwell. In the bow, Lapierre, with a grim smile upon his thin lips,watched the arcs of the whirling brands, while from their positionamidship, Chloe and Big Lena stared fascinated upon the scene.

  "What are they doing?" cried the girl in amazement. Lapierre turnedand smiled into her eyes.

  "We have come," he answered, "at a most opportune time. You are aboutto see MacNair's Indians at their worst. For they seem to be even moredrunk than usual. It is MacNair's way--to make them drunk while helooks on and laughs."

  "Do you mean," cried the girl in horror, "that they are drunk?"

  Lapierre smiled. "Very drunk," he answered dryly. "It is the only wayMacNair can hold them--by allowing them free license at frequentintervals. For well the Indians know that nowhere else in all theNorth would this thing be permitted. Therefore, they remain withMacNair."

  The canoe had drawn close now, and the figures of the Indians wereplainly discernible. Many were lying sprawled upon the ground, whileothers leaped and danced in the red flare of the flames. At frequentintervals, above the sound of the frenzied shouts and weird chants,arose the sharp rattle of shots, as the Indians fired recklessly intothe air.

  At a signal from Lapierre the canoemen ceased paddling. Chloe's eyesflashed an inquiry, and Lapierre shook his head.

  "We can venture no closer," he explained. "At such times theirdeviltry knows no bounds. They would make short shrift of anyone whowould venture among them this night."

  Chloe nodded. "I have no wish to go farther!" she cried. "I have seenenough, and more than enough! When this night's work shall becomeknown in Ottawa, its echo shall ring from Labrador to the Yukon untilthroughout all Canada the name of MacNair shall be hated and despised!"

  At the words, Lapierre glanced into her flushed face, and, removing hishat, bowed reverently. "God grant that your prophecy may be fulfilled.And I speak, not because of any hatred for MacNair, but from a heartoverflowing with love and compassion for my people. For their welfare,it is my earnest prayer that this man's just punishment shall not longbe delayed."

  While he was yet speaking, from the midst of the turmoil red flamesshot high into the air. The yelling increased tenfold, and thefrenzied horde surged toward the walls of the stockade. The cabins ofthe Indians were burning! Wider and higher flared the fire, and louderand fiercer swelled the sounds of yelling and the firing of rifles.The walls of the stockade ignited. The fire was eating its way towardthe long, log storehouse. Instantly through the girl's mind flashedthe memory of that other night when the sky glowed red, and the crashof rifles mingled with the hoarse roar of flames. She gazed infascination as the fire licked and curled above the roof of thestorehouse. Upon the shore, even the canoes were burning.

  Suddenly a wild shriek was borne to her ears. The firing of gunsceased abruptly, and around the corner of the burning storehouse dasheda figure of terror, hatless and coatless, with long hair streamingwildly in the firelight. Tall, broad, and gaunt it appeared in thelight of the flaring flames, and instantly Chloe recognized the form ofBob MacNair. Lapierre also recognized it, and gasped audibly. For atthat moment he knew MacNair should have been far across the barrens onthe trail of the caribou herd.

  "Look! Look!" cried the girl. "What is he doing?" And watched inhorror as the big man charged among the Indians, smashing, driving andkicking his way through the howling, rum-crazed horde. At everylashing blow of his fist, every kick of his high-laced boot, men wentdown. Others reeled drunkenly from his path screaming aloud in theirfright; while across the open space in the foreground four or five mencould be seen dashing frantically for the protection of the timber.MacNair ripped the gun from the hand of a reeling Indian and, throwingit to his shoulder, fired. Of those who ran, one dropped, rose to hisknees, and sank backward. MacNair fired again, and another crashedforward, and rolled over and over upon the ground.

  Lapierre watched with breathless interest while the others gained theshelter of the timber. He wondered whether one of the two men who fellwas LeFroy.

  "Oh!" cried Chloe in horror. "He's killing them!"

  Lapierre made a swift sign to his paddlers, and the canoe shot behind alow sand-point where, in response to a tense command, the canoementurned its bow southward; and, for the second time, Chloe Ellistonfound herself being driven by willing hands southward upon Snare Lake.

  "He pounded--and kicked--and beat them!" sobbed the girl hysterically."And two of them he killed!"

  Lapierre nodded. "Yes," he answered sadly, "and he will kill more ofthem
. It seems that this time they got beyond even his control. Forthe destruction of his buildings and his goods, he will take his tollin lives and in the sufferings of his Indians."

  While the canoe shot southward through the darkness, Chloe sat huddledupon her blankets. And as she watched the dull-red glow fade from thesky above MacNair's burning fort, her heart cried out for vengeanceagainst this brute of the North.

  One hour, two hours, the canoe plowed the black waters of the lake, andthen, because men must rest, Lapierre reluctantly gave the order tocamp, and the tired canoemen turned the bow shoreward.

  Hardly had they taken a dozen strokes when the canoe ground sharplyagainst the thin, shore ice. There was the sound of ripping bark,where the knifelike edge of the ice tore through the side of the frailcraft. Water gushed in, and Lapierre, stifling a curse that rose tohis lips, seized a paddle, and leaning over the bow began to chopfrantically at the ice. Two of the canoemen with their paddles heldher head on, while the other two, with the help of Chloe and Big Lenaendeavoured to stay the inrush of water with blankets and fragments ofclothing.

  Progress was slow. The ice thickened as they neared the shore, andLapierre's paddle-blade, battered upon its point and edges to a soft,fibrous pulp, thudded softly upon the ice without breaking it. Hethrew the paddle overboard and seized another. A few more yards werewon, but the shore loomed black and forbidding, and many yards away.Despite the utmost efforts of the women and the two canoemen, the watergained rapidly. Lapierre redoubled his exertion, chopping and stabbingat the ever thickening shore-ice. And then suddenly his paddle crashedthrough, and with a short cry of relief he rose to his feet, and leapedinto the black water, where he sank only to his middle. The canoemenfollowed. And the canoe, relieved of the bulk of its burden, floatedmore easily.

  Slowly they pushed shoreward through the shallow water, the menbreaking the ice before them. And a few minutes later, wet and chilledto the bone, they stepped onto the gravel.

  Within the shelter of a small thicket a fire was built, and while themen returned to examine the damaged canoe, the two women wrung outtheir dripping garments and, returning them wet, huddled close to thetiny blaze. The men returned to the fire, where a meal was preparedand eaten in silence. As he ate, Chloe noticed that Lapierre seemedill at ease.

  "Did you repair the canoe?" she asked. The man shook his head.

  "No. It is damaged beyond any thought of repair. We removed the foodand such of its contents as are necessary, and, loading it with rocks,sank it in the lake."

  "Sank it in the lake!" cried the girl in amazement.

  "Yes," answered Lapierre. "For even if it were not damaged, it wouldbe of no further use to us. Tonight the lake will freeze."

  "What are we going to do?" cried the girl.

  "There is only one thing to do," answered Lapierre quickly. "Walk tothe school. It is not such a long trail--a hundred miles or so. Andyou can take it easy. You have plenty of provisions."

  "I!" cried the girl. "And what will you do?"

  "It is necessary," answered the man, "that I should make a forcedmarch."

  "You are going to leave me?"

  Lapierre smiled at the evident note of alarm in her voice. "I am goingto take two of the canoemen and return in all haste to your school. Doyou realize that MacNair, now that he has lost his winter provisions,will stop at nothing to obtain more?"

  "He would not dare!" cried the girl, her eyes flashing.

  Lapierre laughed. "You do not know MacNair. You, personally, he wouldnot venture to molest. He will doubtless try to buy supplies from youor from the Hudson Bay Company. But, in the meantime, while he is uponthis errand, his Indians, with no one to hold them in check, andknowing that the supplies are in your storehouse, will swoop down uponit, and your own Indians, without a leader, will fall an easy prey tothe hungry horde."

  "But surely," cried the girl, "LeFroy is capable----"

  "Possibly, if he were at the school," interrupted Lapierre. "Butunfortunately the day before we ourselves departed, I sent LeFroy uponan important mission to the eastward. I think you will agree with meupon the importance of the mission when I tell you that, as I swung outof the mouth of Slave River at the head of the canoe brigade, I saw afast canoe slipping stealthily along the shore to the eastward. Inthat canoe, with the aid of my binoculars, I made out two men whom Ihave long suspected of being engaged in the nefarious and hellishbusiness of peddling whiskey among the Indians. I knew it was uselessto try to overtake them with my heavily loaded canoe, and so upon myarrival at the school, as soon as we had concluded the outfitting ofthe trappers, I dispatched LeFroy to hunt these men down, to destroyany liquor found in their possession, and to deal with them as he sawfit."

  He paused and gazed steadily into the girl's face. "This may seem toyou a lawless and high-handed proceeding, Miss Elliston," he went on;"but you have just witnessed one exhibition of the tragedy that whiskeycan work among my people. In my opinion, the end justifies the means."

  The girl regarded him with shining eyes. "Indeed it does!" she cried."Oh, there is nothing--no punishment--too severe for such brutes, suchdevils, as these! I--I hope LeFroy will catch them. Ihope--almost--he will kill them."

  Lapierre nodded. "Yes, Miss Elliston," he answered gravely, "one couldsometimes almost wish so, but I have forbidden it. The taking of ahuman life is a serious matter; and in the North the exigencies of themoment all too frequently make this imperative. As a last resort onlyshould we kill."

  "You are right," echoed the girl. "Only after the scene we have justwitnessed, it seemed that I myself could kill deliberately, and be gladI killed. Truly the North breeds savagery. For I, too, have killed onthe spur of the moment!" The words fell rapidly from her lips, and shecried out as in physical pain. "And to think that I killed in defenceof _him_! Oh, if I had let the Indian shoot that night, all this"--shewaved her hand to the northward--"would never have happened."

  "Very true, Miss Elliston," answered Lapierre softly. "But do notblame yourself. Under the circumstances, you could not have doneotherwise."

  As he talked, two of the canoemen made up light packs from the outfitof the wrecked canoe. Seeing that they had concluded, Lapierre arose,and taking Chloe's hand in both of his, looked straight into her eyes.

  "Good-by," he said simply. "These Indians will conduct you in safetyto your school." And, without waiting for a reply, turned and followedthe two canoemen into the brush.

  Chloe sat for a long time staring into the flames of the tiny firebefore creeping between her damp blankets. Despite the utterbody-weariness of her long canoe-trip, the girl slept but fitfully inher cold bed.

  In the early grey of the morning she started up nervously. Surely asound had awakened her. She heard it distinctly now, the sound ofapproaching footsteps. She strained to locate the sound, and instantlyrealized it was not the tread of moccasined feet. She threw off thefrost-stiffened blankets and leaped to her feet, shivering in the keenair of the biting dawn.

  The sounds of the footsteps grew louder, plainer, as though someone hadturned suddenly from the shore and approached the thicket with long,heavy strides. With muscles tense and heart bounding wildly the girlwaited. Then, scarce ten feet from her side, the thick scrub partedwith a vicious swish, and a man, hatless, glaring, and white-faced,stood before her. The man was MacNair.