by Rex Beach
CHAPTER IX
THE AWAKENING
Early the next morning Corporal Thomas came into the store and foundNecia tending it while Gale was out. Ever since the day she hadquestioned him about Burrell, this old man had taken every occasion totalk with the girl, and when he asked her this morning about thereports concerning Lee's strike, she told him of her trip, and all thathad occurred.
"You see, I'm a mine-owner now," she concluded. "If it hadn't been asecret I would have told you before I went so you could have been oneof the first."
"I'm goin', anyhow," he said, "if the Lieutenant will let me and ifit's not too late."
Then she told him of the trail by Black Bear Creek which would save himseveral hours.
"So that's how you and he made it?" he observed, gazing at hershrewdly. "I supposed you went with your father?"
"Oh, no! We beat him in," she said, and fell to musing at the memory ofthose hours passed alone with Meade, while her eyes shone and hercheeks glowed. The Corporal saw the look, and it bore out a theory hehad formed during the past month, so, as he lingered, he set about atask that had lain in his mind for some time. As a rule he was not acareful man in his speech, and the delicacy of this manoeuvre taxed hisingenuity to the utmost, for he loved the girl and feared to say toomuch.
"The Lieutenant is a smart young fellow," he began; "and it was slickwork jumpin' all those claims. It's just like him to befriend a girllike you--I've seen him do it before--"
"What!" exclaimed Necia, "befriend other girls?"
"Or things just like it. He's always doing favors that get him intotrouble."
"This couldn't cause him trouble, could it, outside of Stark's andRunnion's grudge?"
"No, I reckon not," assented the Corporal, groping blindly for some wayof expressing what he wished to say. "Except, of course, it might causea lot of talk at headquarters when it's known what he's done for youand how he done it. I heard something about it down the street thismorning, so I'm afraid it will get to St. Michael's, and then to hisfolks." He realized that he was not getting on well, for the task washarder than he had imagined.
"I don't understand," said Necia. "He hasn't done anything that any manwouldn't do under the same circumstances."
"No man's got a right to make folks talk about a nice girl," said theCorporal; "and the feller that told me about it said he reckoned youtwo was in love." He hurried along now without offering her a chance tospeak. "Of course, that had to be caught up quick; you're too fine agirl for that."
"Too fine?" Necia laughed.
"I mean you're too fine and good to let him put you in wrong, just ashe's too fine a fellow and got too much ahead of him to make what hispeople would call a messy alliance."
"Would his people object to--to such a thing?" questioned the girl.They were alone in the store, and so they could talk freely. "I'm justsupposing, you know."
"Oh, Lord! Would they object?" Corporal Thomas laughed in a highlyartificial manner that made Necia bridle and draw herself upindignantly.
"Why should they, I'd like to know? I'm just as pretty as other girls,and I'm just as good. I know just as much as they do, too,except--about certain things."
"You sure are all of that and more, too," the Corporal declared,heartily, "but if you knowed more about things outside you'd understandwhy it ain't possible. I can't tell you without hurtin' your feelin's,and I like you too much for that, Miss Necia. Seems as if I'm almost adaddy to you, and I've only knowed you for a few weeks--"
"Go ahead and tell me; I won't be offended," insisted the girl. "Youmust. I don't know much about such things, for I've lived all my lifewith men like father and Poleon, and the priests at the Mission, whotreat me just like one of themselves. But somebody will want to marryme some day, I suppose, so I ought to know what is wrong with me." Sheflushed up darkly under her brown cheeks.
The feeling came over Corporal Thomas that he had hurt a helplessanimal of some gentle kind; that he was bungling his work, and that hewas not of the calibre to go into the social amenities. He began toperspire uncomfortably, but went on, doggedly:
"I'm goin' to tell you a story, not because it applies to LieutenantBurrell, or because he's in love with you, which of course he ain't anymore than you be with him--"
"Of course," said the girl.
"--but just to show you what I mean. It was a good long spell ago, whenI was at Fort Supply, which was the frontier in them days like this isnow. We freighted in from Dodge City with bull teams, and it was surethe fringe of the frontier; no women--no society--nothin' much except afort, a lot of Injuns, and a few officials with their wives andfamilies. Now them kind of places is all right for married men, butthey're tough sleddin' for single ones, and after a while a feller getsawful careless about himself; he seems to go backward and run downmighty quick when he gets away from civilization and his people andrestaurants and such things; he gets plumb reckless and forgetful ofwhat's what. Well, there was a captain with us, a young feller thatlooked like the Lieutenant here, and a good deal the samesort--high-tempered and chivalrious and all that sort of thing; a WestPointer, too, good family and all that, and, what's more, a captain attwenty-five. Now, our head freighter was married to a squaw, orleastways he had been, but in them days nobody thought much of it anymore than they do up here now, and particularly because he'd had agovernment contract for a long while, ran a big gang of men andcritters, and had made a lot of money. Likewise he had a girl, wholived at the fort, and was mighty nice to look at, and restful to theeye after a year or so of cactus-trees and mesquite and buffalo-grass.She was twice as nice and twice as pretty as the women at the post, andas for money--well, her dad could have bought and sold all the officersin a lump; but they and their wives looked down on her, and she didn'tmix with them none whatever. To make it short, the captain married her.Seemed like he got disregardful of everything, and the hunger to have awoman just overpowered him. She'd been courted by every single man forfour hundred miles around. She was pretty and full of fire, and theywas both of an age to love hard, so Jefferson swore he'd make the otherwomen take her; but soldierin' is a heap different from any otherprofession, and the army has got its own traditions. The plan wouldn'twork. By-and-by the captain got tired of trying, and gave up theattempt--just devoted himself to her--and then we was transferred, allbut him. We shifted to a better post, but Captain Jefferson was changedto another company and had to stay at Supply. Gee! it was a rottenhole! Influence had been used, and there he stuck, while the newofficers cut him out completely, just like the others had done, so Iwas told, and it drifted on that way for a long time, him forevermakin' an uphill fight to get his wife reco'nized and always quittin'loser. His folks back East was scandalized and froze him cold, callin'him a squaw-man; and the story went all through the army, till hisbrother officers had to treat him cold in order to keep enough warmthat home to live by, one thing leading to another till he finallyresented it openly. After that he didn't last long. They made it sounpleasant that he quit the service--crowded him out, that's all. Hewas a born soldier, too, and didn't know nothing else nor care fornothing else; as fine a man as I ever served under, but it soured himso that a rattlesnake couldn't have lived with him. He tried to go intosome kind of business after he quit the army, but he wasn't cut out forit, and never made good as long as I knew of him. The last time I seenhim was down on the border, and he had sure grown cultus. He had quitthe squaw, who was livin' with a greaser in Tucson--"
"And do you think I'm like that woman?" said Necia, in a queer,strained voice. She had listened intently to the Corporal's story, buthe had purposely avoided her eyes and could not tell how she was takingit.
"No! You're different, but the army is just the same. I told you thisto show you how it is out in the States. It don't apply to you, ofcourse--"
"Of course!" agreed Necia again. "But what would happen to LieutenantBurrell if--if--well, if he should do something like that? There aremany half-breed girls, I dare say, like this other girl, or--like me."
"It would go a heap worse with him than it did with Captain Jefferson,"said the Corporal, "for he's got more ahead of him and he comes frombetter stock. Why, his family is way up! They're all soldiers, andthey're strong at headquarters; they're mighty proud, too, and theywouldn't stand for his doing such a thing, even if he wanted to. But hewouldn't try; he's got too much sense, and loves the army too well forthat. No, sir! He'll go a long ways, that boy will, if he's let alone."
"I never thought of myself as an Indian," said Necia, dully. "In thiscountry it's a person's heart that counts."
"That's how it ought to be," said the Corporal, heartily; "and I'mmighty sorry if I've hurt you, little girl. I'm a rough old rooster,and I never thought but what you understood all this. Up here folkslook at it right, but outside it's mighty different; even yet you don'thalf understand."
"I'm glad I'm what I am!" cried the girl. "There's nothing in my bloodto be ashamed of, and I'm white in here!" She struck her bosomfiercely. "If a man loves me he'll take me no matter what it means tohim."
"Right for you," assented the other; "and if I was younger myself, I'dsure have a lot of nice things to say to you. If I'd 'a' had somebodylike you I'd 'a' let liquor alone, maybe, and amounted to something,but all I'm good for now is to give advice and draw my pay." He sliddown from the counter where he had been sitting. "I'm goin' to hunt upthe Lieutenant and get him to let me off. Mebbe I can stake a claim andsell it."
The moment he was gone the girl's composure vanished and she gave ventto her feelings.
"It's a lie! It's a lie!" she cried, aloud, and with her fists she beatthe boards in front of her. "He loves me! I know he does!" Then shebegan, to tremble, and sobbed: "I'm just like other girls."
She was still wrestling with herself when Gale returned, and he startedat the look in her face as she approached him.
"Why did you marry my mother?" she asked. "Why? Why did you do it?"
He saw that she was in a rage, and answered, bluntly, "I didn't."
She shrank at this. "Then why didn't you? Shame! Shame! That makes meworse than I thought I was. Oh, why did you ever turn squaw-man? Whydid you make me a breed?"
"Look here! What ails you?" said the trader.
"What ails me?" she mocked. "Why, I'm neither white nor red; I'm noteven a decent Indian. I'm a--a--" She shuddered. "You made me what Iam. You didn't do me the justice even to marry my mother."
"Somebody's been saying things about you," said Gale, quietly, takingher by the shoulders. "Who is it? Tell me who it is."
"No, no! It's not that! Nobody has said anything to my face; they'reafraid of you, I suppose, but God knows what they think and say to myback."
"I'll--" began the trader, but she interrupted him.
"I've just begun to realize what I am. I'm not respectable. I'm notlike other women, and never can be. I'm a squaw--a squaw!"
"You're not!" he cried.
"It's a nice word, isn't it?"
"What's wrong with it?"
"No honest man can marry me. I'm a vagabond! The best I can get is mybed and board, like my mother."
"By God! Who offered you that?" Gale's face was whiter than hers now,but she disregarded him and abandoned herself to the tempest of emotionthat swept her along.
"He can play with me, but nothing more, and when he is gone another onecan have me, and then another and another and another--as long as I cancook and wash and work. In time my man will beat me, just like anyother squaw, I suppose, but I can't marry; I can't be a wife to adecent man."
She was in the clutch of an hysteria that made her writhe beneathGale's hand, choking and sobbing, until he loosed her; then she leanedexhausted against a post and wiped her eyes, for the tears were comingnow.
"That's all damned rot," he said. "There's fifty good men in this campwould marry you to-morrow."
"Bah! I mean real men, not miners. I want to be a lady. I don't want topull a hand-sled and wear moccasins all my life, and raise children formen with whiskers. I want to be loved--I want to be loved! I want tomarry a gentleman."
"Burrell!" said Gale.
"No!" she flared up. "Not him nor anybody in particular, but somebodylike him, some man with clean finger-nails."
He found nothing humorous or grotesque in her measure of a gentleman,for he realized that she was strung to a pitch of unreason andunnatural excitement, and that she was in terrible earnest.
"Daughter," he said, "I'm mighty sorry this knowledge has come to you,and I see it's my fault, but things are different now to what they werewhen I met Alluna. It wasn't the style to marry squaws where we camefrom, and neither of us ever thought about it much. We were happy witheach other, and we've been man and wife to each other just as truly asif a priest had mumbled over us."
"But why didn't you marry her when I came? Surely you must have knownwhat it would mean to me. It was bad enough without that."
The old man hesitated. "I'll own I was wrong," he said, finally,staring out into the sunshine with an odd expression. "It wasthoughtless and wrong, dead wrong; but I've loved you better than anydaughter was ever loved in this wide world, and I've worked and starvedand froze and saved, and so has Alluna, so that you might havesomething to live on when I'm gone, and be different to us. It won't belong now, I guess. I've given you the best schooling of any girl on theriver, and I'd have sent you out to a convent in the States, but Icouldn't let you go so far away--God! I loved you too much for that--Icouldn't do it, girl. I've tried, but you're all I've got, and I'm aselfish man, I reckon."
"No, no! You're not," his daughter cried, impulsively. "You'reeverything that's good and dear, but you've lived a different life fromother men and you see things differently. It was mean of me to talk asI did." She put her arms around his neck and hugged him. "But I'm veryunhappy, dad."
"Don't you aim to tell what started this?" he said, gently, caressingher with his great, hard hand as softly as a mother. But she shook herhead, and he continued, "I'll take the first boat down to the Missionand marry your ma, if you want me to."
"That wouldn't do any good," said she. "We'd better leave things asthey are." Then she drew away and smiled at him bravely from the door."I'm a very bad to act this way. S'cuses?"
He nodded and she went out, but he gazed after her for a long minute,then sighed.
"Poor little girl!"
Necia was in a restless mood, and, remembering that Alluna and thechildren had gone berrying on the slopes behind the Indian village, sheturned her way thither. All at once a fear of seeing Meade Burrell cameupon her. She wanted to think this out, to find where she stood, beforehe had word with her. She had been led to observe herself from astrange angle, and must verify her vision, as it were. As yet she couldnot fully understand. What if he had changed, now that he was alone,and had had time to think? It would kill her if she saw any differencein him, and she knew she would be able to read it in his eyes.
As she went through the main street of the camp she saw Stark occupiednear the water-front, where he had bought a building lot. He spoke toher as she was about to pass.
"Good-morning, Miss. Are you rested from your trip?"
She answered that she was, and would have continued on her way, but hestopped her.
"I don't want you to think that mining matter was my doing," he said."I've got nothing against you. Your old man hasn't wasted any affectionon me, and I can get along without him, all right, but I don't maketrouble for girls if I can help it."
The girl believed that he meant what he said; his words rang true, andhe spoke seriously. Moreover, Stark was known already in the camp as aman who did not go out of his way to make friends or to render anaccounting of his deeds, so it was natural that when he made her a showof kindness Necia should treat him with less coldness than might havebeen expected. The man had exercised an occult influence upon her fromthe time she first saw him at Lee's cabin, but it was too vague fordefinite feeling, and she had been too
strongly swayed by Poleon andher father in their attitude towards him to be conscious of it. Findinghim now, however, in a gentle humor, she was drawn to him unwittingly,and felt an overweening desire to talk with him, even at the hazard ofoffending her own people. The encounter fitted in with her rebelliousmood, for there were things she wished to know, things she must findout from some one who knew the world and would not be afraid to answerher questions candidly.
"I'm going to build a big dance-hall and saloon here," said Stark,showing her the stakes that he had driven. "As soon as the rush to thecreek is over I'll hire a gang of men to get out a lot of house logs.I'll finish it in a week and be open for the stampede."
"Do you think this will be a big town?" she asked.
"Nobody can tell, but I'll take a chance. If it proves to be a falsealarm I'll move on--I've done it before."
"You've been in a great many camps, I suppose."
He said that he had, that for twenty years he had been on the frontier,and knew it from West Texas to the Circle.
"And are they all alike?"
"Very much. The land lies different but the people are the same."
"I've never known anything except this." She swept the points of thecompass with her arm. "And there is so much beyond that I want to knowabout--oh, I feel so ignorant! There is something now that perhaps youcould tell me, you have travelled so much."
"Let's have it," said he, smiling at her seriousness.
She hesitated, at a loss for words, finally blurting out what was inher mind.
"My father is a squaw-man, Mr. Stark, and I've been raised to thinkthat such things are customary."
"They are, in all new countries," he assured her.
"But how are they regarded when civilization comes along?"
"Well, they aren't regarded, as a rule. Squaw-men are pretty shiftless,and people don't pay much attention to them. I guess if they weren'tthey wouldn't be squaw-men."
"My father isn't shiftless," she challenged, at which he remainedsilent, refusing to go on record. "Isn't a half-breed just as good as awhite?"
"Look here," said he. "What are you driving at?"
"I'm a 'blood,'" she declared, recklessly, "and I want to know whatpeople think of me. The men around here have never made me feelconscious of it, but--"
"You're afraid of these new people who are coming, eh? Well, don'tworry about that, Miss. It wouldn't make any difference to me or to anyof your friends whether you were red, white, black, or yellow."
"But it would make a difference with some people?" insisted the girl.
"Oh, I reckon it would with Eastern people. They look at things kind offunny, but we're not in the East."
"That's what I wanted to know. Nice people back there wouldn't toleratea girl like me for a moment, would they? They wouldn't consider me goodenough to associate with them?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess you'd have a hard time breaking inamong the 'bon-tonners.' But what's the use of thinking about it. Thisis your country and these are your people."
A morbid desire was upon her to track down this intangible racialdistinction, but she saw Runnion, whom she could not bear, comingtowards them, so thanked Stark hurriedly and went on her way.
"Been making friends with that squaw, eh?" remarked Runnion, casually.
"Yes," replied Stark. "She's a nice little girl, and I like her. I toldher I didn't have any part in that miners' meeting affair."
"Huh! What's the matter with you? It was all your doing."
"I know it was, but I didn't aim it at her. I wanted that ground nextto Lee's, and I wanted to throw a jolt into Old Man Gale. I couldn'tlet the girl stand in my way; but now that it's over, I'm willing to befriends with her."
"Me, too," said Runnion, looking after Necia as her figure diminishedup the street. "By Heaven! She's as graceful as a fawn; she's white,too. Nobody would ever know she was a breed."
"She's a good girl," said Stark, musingly, in a gentle tone thatRunnion had never heard before.
"Getting kind of mushy, ain't you? I thought you had passed that stage,old man."
"No, I don't like her in that way."
"Well, I do, and I'm dead sore on that soldier."
"She's not your kind," said Stark. "A bad man can't hold a good woman;he can win one easy enough, but he can't keep her. I know!"
"Nobody but a fool would want to keep one," Runnion replied, "speciallya squaw."
"She's just woke up to the fact that she is a squaw and isn't as goodas white. She's worried."
"I'll lay you a little eight to five that Burrell has thrown her down,"chuckled Runnion.
"I never thought of that. You may be right."
"If it's true I'll shuffle up a hand for that soldier."
"If I were you I wouldn't deal it to him," said the gambler, dryly. "Hemay not cut to your break."
Meanwhile, Necia had passed on out of the town and through the Indianvillage at the mouth of the creek, until high up on the slopes she sawAlluna and the little ones. She climbed up to them and seated herselfwhere she could look far out over the westward valley, with the greatstream flowing half a mile beneath her. She stayed there all themorning, and although the day was bright and the bushes bending withtheir burden of blue, she picked no berries, but fought resolutelythrough a dozen varying moods that mirrored themselves in her delicateface. It was her first soul struggle, but in time the buoyancy of youthand the almighty optimism of early love prevailed; she comfortedherself with the fond illusion that this man was different from allothers, that his regard was equal to her own, and that his love wouldrise above such accidental things as blood or breed or birth. And soshe was in a happier frame of mind when the little company made theirdescent at mid-day.
As they approached the town they heard the familiar cry of"Steam-bo-o-o-at," and by the time they had reached home the littlecamp was noisy with the plaint of wolf-dogs. There were few men to joinin the welcome to-day, every able-bodied inhabitant having disappearedinto the hills, but the animals came trooping lazily to the bank, andsat down on their haunches watching the approaching steamer, in theirsoft eyes the sadness of a canine race of slaves. Behind them limped asick man or two, a soldier from the barracks, and in the rear a fellowwho had drifted in the week before with scurvy. It was a pitiful reviewthat lined up to greet the tide of tenderfeet crowding towards their ElDorado, and unusual also, for as yet the sight of new faces was strangein the North.
The deserted aspect of the town puzzled the captain of the steamer, andupon landing he made his way at once to John Gale's store, where helearned from the trader of the strike and of the stampede that hadresulted. Before the recital was finished a man approached and spokeexcitedly.
"Captain, my ticket reads to Dawson, but I'm getting off here. Won'tyou have my outfit put ashore?" He was followed by a group offellow-passengers who made a similar request.
"This place is good enough for me," one of them said.
"Me, too," another volunteered. "This strike is new, and we've hit herjust in time."
Outside a dozen men had crowded "No Creek" Lee against the wall of thestore and were clamoring to hear about his find. Before the tardy oneshad cleared the gang-plank the news had flashed from shore to ship, anda swarm came up the bank and into the post, firing questions andanswers at each other eagerly, elbowing and fighting for a place withinear-shot of the trader or the ragged man outside.
The frenzy of a gold stampede is like the rush from a burning building,and equally easy to arouse. No statement is too wild to lack believers,no rumor too exaggerated to find takers. Within an hour the crew of thesteamer was busy unloading countless tons of merchandise and baggagebilled to Dawson, and tents began to show their snowy whiteness hereand there. As a man saw his outfit appear he would pounce upon it, abundle at a time, and pile it by itself, which resulted in endlessdisputes and much confusion; but a spirit of youth and expectancypermeated all and prevented more than angry words. Every hour the heapsof baggage grew larger and the tents more
numerous.
Stark wasted no time. With money in his hands he secured a dozen menwho were willing to work for hire, for there are always those whoprefer the surety of ten coined dollars to the hope of a hundred. Heswooped down with these helpers on his pile of merchandise that hadlain beneath tarpaulins on the river-bank since the day he and Runnionlanded, and by mid-afternoon a great tent had been stretched over aframework of peeled poles built on the lot where he and Necia had stoodearlier in the day. Before dark his saloon was running. To be sure,there was no floor, and his polished fixtures looked strangely new andincongruous, but the town at large had assumed a similar air ofincompleteness and crude immaturity, and little wonder, for it hadgrown threefold in half a day. Stark swiftly unpacked his gamblingimplements, keen to scent every advantage, and out of the handful ofpale-faced jackals who follow at the heels of a healthy herd, he hiredmen to run them and to deal. By night Flambeau was a mining-camp.
Late in the evening the boat swung out into the river, and disclosed astrange scene of transformation to the puzzled captain of a few hoursago. The riverbank was lined with canvas shelters, illumined dully bythe tent-lights within till they looked like a nest of glowworms indeep grass. A long, hoarse blast of good wishes rose from the steamer,then she sighed her way around the point above bearing forth themessage that a new camp had been born.