by Rex Beach
CHAPTER X
MEADE BURRELL FINDS A PATH IN THE MOONLIGHT
"No Creek" Lee had come into his own at last, and was a hero, for thestory of his long ill-luck was common gossip now, and men praised himfor his courage. He had never been praised for anything before and wasuncertain just how to take it.
"Say, are these people kiddin' me?" he inquired, confidentially, ofPoleon.
"W'y? Wat you mean?"
"Well, there's a feller makin' a speech about me down by the landing."
"Wat he say?"
"It ain't nothin' to fight over. He says I'm another Dan'l Boom,leadin' the march of empire westward."
"Dat's nice, for sure."
"Certainly sounds good, but is it on the level?"
"Wal, I guess so," admitted Poleon.
The prospector swelled with indignation. "Then, why in hell didn't youfellers tell me long ago?"
The scanty ounce or two of gold from his claim lay in the scales at thepost, where every new-comer might examine it, and, realizing that hewas a never-ending source of information, they fawned on him for histips, bribing him with newspapers, worth a dollar each, or with cigars,which he wrapped up carefully and placed in his mackinaw till everypocket of the rusty garment bulged so that he could not sit withoutlosing them. They dwelt upon his lightest word, and stood him up besidethe bar where they filled him with proofs of friendliness until he shedtears from his one good eye.
He had formed a habit of parsimony born of his years of poverty, andwas so widely known as a tight man by the hundreds who had lent to himthat his creditors never at any time hoped for a reckoning. And henever offered one; on the contrary, he had invariably flown into a ragewhen dunned, and exhibited such resentment as to discourage thepractice. Now, however, the surly humor of the man began to mellow, andin gradual stages he unloosened, the process being attended by adisproportionate growth of the trader's cash receipts. Cautiously, atfirst he let out his wit, which was logy from long disuse, and as heavyon its feet as the Jumping Frog of Calaveras, but when they laughed atits labored leaps and sallies his confidence grew. With the regularityof a clock he planted cigars and ordered "a little more hard stuff,"while his roving eye rejoiced in lachrymose profusion, its over-burdenlosing itself in the tangle of his careless beard. By-and-by hewandered through the town, trailed by a troop of tenderfeet, till thewomen marked him, whereupon he fled back to the post and hugged thebar, for he was a bashful man. When Stark's new place opened it offeredhim another retreat of which he availed himself for some time. But latein the evening he reappeared at Old Man Gale's store, walking a bitunsteadily, and as he mounted the flight of logs to the door he steppedonce too often.
"What's become of that fourth step?" he demanded, sharply, of Poleon.
"Dere she is," said the Frenchman.
"I'm damned if it is. You moved it since I was here."
"I'll have 'im put back," laughed the other.
"Say! It's a grand thing to be rich, ain't it?"
"I don' know, I ain' never try it."
"Well, it is; and now that I've arrived, I'm goin' to change my wayscomplete. No more extravagance in mine--I'll never lend another cent."
"Wat's dat?" ejaculated Doret, in amazement.
"No more hard-luck stories and 'hurry-ups' for mine. I'm thestony-hearted jailer, I am, from now, henceforth, world 'thout end,amen! No busted miners need apply. I've been a good thing, but to-nightI turn on the time-lock."
"Ba gosh! You're fonny feller," laughed Poleon, who had lent theone-eyed man much money in the past and, like others, regarded him notmerely as a bad risk but as a total loss. "Mebbe you t'ink you've beena spen't'rif all dese year."
"I've certainly blowed a lot of money on my friends," Lee acknowledged,"and they're welcome to what they've got so far, but I'm goin' to chopall them prodigal habits and put on the tin vest. I'll run thesolderin'-iron up my seams so they can't get to me without acan-opener. I'm air-tight for life, I am." He fumbled in his pocketsand unwrapped a gift cigar, then felt for a match. Poleon tossed one onthe bar, and he reached for it twice, missing it each time.
"I guess dose new frien' of yours is mak' you purty full, M'sieu' TinVest."
"Nothin' of the sort. I've got a bad dose of indigestion."
"Dat's 'orrible disease! Dere's plaintee riche man die on datseecknesse. You better lie down."
Doret took the hero of the day by the arm and led him to the rear ofthe store, where he bedded him on a pile of flour sacks, but he hadhardly returned to the bar when Lee came veering out of the dimness,making for the light like a ship tacking towards a beacon.
"What kind of flour is that?" he spluttered.
"Dat's just plain w'eat flour."
"Not on your life," said the miner, with the firmness of a greatconviction. "It's full of yeast powders. Why, it's r'arin' and risin'like a buckin' hoss. I'm plumb sea-sick." He laid a zigzag course forthe door.
"W'ere you goin'?" asked Poleon.
"I'm goin' to get somethin' for this stomach trouble. It's fierce." Hedescended into the darkness boldly, and stepped off withconfidence--this time too soon. Poleon heard him floundering about, hisindignant voice raised irascibly, albeit with a note of triumph.
"Wha'd I tell you? You put it back while I was ashleep." Then whistlingblithely, if somewhat out of tune, he steered for the new saloon to getsomething for his "stomach trouble."
At Stark's he found a large crowd of the new men who welcomed himheartily, plying him with countless questions, and harking to hismaudlin tales of this new country which to him was old. He had followedthe muddy river from Crater Lake to the Delta, searching the bars andcreek-beds in a tireless quest, till he knew each stream and tributary,for he had been one of the hardy band that used to venture forth fromJuneau on the spring snows, disappearing into the uncharted valley ofthe Yukon, to return when the river clogged and grew sluggish, and,like Gale, he had lived these many years ahead of the law where eachman was his own court of appeals and where crime was unknown. He hadhelped to build camps like Forty Mile and Circle; he knew by heart theby-laws and rules that governed every town and mining district in thecountry; he knew every man and child by name, but, while many of hisfriends had prospered, unceasing ill-luck had dogged him. Yet he hadheld to honesty and hard work, measuring a man by his ability to swingan axe or a shovel, and, despite his impecuniosity, regarding theft asthe one crime deserving capital punishment.
"Oh, there's lots of countries worse'n this," he declared. "We may notbe very han'some to the naked eye, and we may not wear our handk'chiefsin our shirt cuffs, but there ain't no widders and orphans doin' ourwashin', and a man can walk away from his house, stay a month, and findit there when he comes back."
"Those days are past," said Stark, who had joined in the discussion."There's too many new people coming in for all of them to be honest."
"They'd better be," said Lee, aggressively. "We ain't got no room forstealers. Why, I had a hand in makin' the by-laws of this camp myself,'long with John Gale, and they stip'lates that any person caughtrobbin' a cache is to be publicly whipped in front of the tradin'-post,then, if it's winter time, he's to be turned loose on the icebarefooted, or, if it's summer, he's to be set adrift on a log with hisshirt off."
"Either one would mean certain death," said a stranger. "Frost inwinter, mosquitoes in summer!"
"That's all right," another bystander declared. "A man's life dependson his grub up here, and I'd be in favor of enforcing that punishmentto the letter if we caught any one thieving."
"All the same, I take no chances," said Stark. "There's too manystrangers here. Just to show you how I stand, I've put Runnion on guardover my pile of stuff, and I'll be glad when it's under cover. It isn'tthe severity of punishment that keeps a man from going wrong, it's thecertainty of it."
"Well, he'd sure get it, and get it proper in this camp," declared Lee;and at that moment, as if his words had been a challenge, the flaps ofthe great tent were thrust aside, and Runnion half led, half t
hrew aman into the open space before the bar.
"Let's have a look at you," he panted. "Well, if it ain't a nigger!"
"What's up?" cried the men, crowding about the prisoner, who crouched,terror-stricken, in the trampled mud and moss, while those playingroulette and "bank" left the tables, followed by the dealers.
"He's a thief," said Runnion, mopping the sweat from his brow. "Icaught him after your grub pile, Stark."
"In my cache?"
"Yes. He dropped a crate of hams when I came up on him, and tried torun, but I dropped him." He held his Colt in his right hand, and atrickle of blood from the negro's head showed how he had been felled.
"Why didn't you shoot?" growled Stark, angrily, at which the negro halfarose and broke into excited denials of his guilt. Runnion kicked himsavagely, and cursed him, while the crowd murmured approval.
"Le' me see him," said Lee, elbowing his way through the others. Fixinghis one eye upon the wretch, he spoke impressively.
"You're the first downright thief I ever seen. Was you hungry?"
"No, he's got plenty," answered one of the tenderfeet, who hadevidently arrived on the boat with the darky. "He's got a bigger outfitthan I have."
The prisoner drew himself up against the bar, facing his enemiessullenly.
"Then I reckon it's a divine manifestation," said "No Creek" Lee,tearfully. "This black party is goin' to furnish an example as willelevate the moral tone of our community for a year."
"Let me take him outside," cried Stark, reaching under the bar for aweapon. His eyes were cruel, and he had the angry pallor of a dangerousman. "I'll save you a lot of trouble."
"Why not do it legal?" expostulated Lee. "It's just as certain."
"Yes! Lee is right," echoed the crowd, bent on a Roman holiday.
"What y'all aim to do?" whined the thief.
"We're goin' to try you," announced the one-eyed miner, "and if you'refound guilty, as you certainly are goin' to be, you'll be flogged.After which perdicament you'll have a nice ride down-stream on asaw-log without your laundry."
"But the mosquitoes--"
"Too bad you didn't think of them before. Let's get at this, boys, andhave it over with."
In far countries, where men's lives depend upon the safety of theirfood supply, a side of bacon may mean more than a bag of gold;therefore, protection is a strenuous necessity. And though any one ofthose present would have gladly fed the negro had he been needy, eachof them likewise knew that unless an example were made of him no tentor cabin would be safe. The North being a gameless, forbidding country,has ever been cruel to thieves, and now it was heedless of the blackman's growing terror as it set about to try him. A miners' meeting wascalled on the spot, and a messenger sent hurrying to the post for thebook in which was recorded the laws of the men who had made the camp.The crowd was determined that this should be done legally and asprescribed by ancient custom up and down the river. So, to make itselfdoubly sure, it gave Runnion's evidence a hearing; then, takinglanterns, went down to the big tarpaulin-covered pile beside the river,where it found the crate of hams and the negro's tracks. There was nodefence for the culprit and he offered none, being too scared by now todo more than plead. The proceedings were simple and quiet and grim, andwere wellnigh over when Lieutenant Burrell walked into the tent saloon.He had been in his quarters all day, fighting a fight with himself, andin the late evening, rebelling against his cramped conditions and thewar with his conscience, he had sallied out, and, drawn by the crowd inStark's place, had entered.
A man replied to his whispered question, giving him the story, for themeeting was under Lee's domination, and the miners maintained anorderly and business-like procedure. The chairman's indigestion hadvanished with his sudden assumption of responsibility, and he showed notrace of drink in his bearing. Beneath a lamp one was binding four-footlengths of cotton tent-rope to a broomstick for a knout, while others,whom Lee had appointed, were drawing lots to see upon whom woulddevolve the unpleasant duty of flogging the captive. Thematter-of-fact, relentless expedition of the affair shocked Burrellinexpressibly, and seeing Poleon and Gale near by, he edged towardsthem, thinking that they surely could not be in sympathy with thisbarbarous procedure.
"You don't understand, Lieutenant," said Gale, in a low voice. "Thisnigger is a THIEF!"
"You can't kill a man for stealing a few hams."
"It ain't so much WHAT he stole; it's the idea, and it's the custom ofthe country."
"Whipping is enough, without the other."
"Dis stealin' she's bad biznesse," declared Poleon. "Mebbe dose ham issave some poor feller's life."
"It's mob law," said the Lieutenant, indignantly, "and I won't standfor it."
Gale turned a look of curiosity upon the officer. "How are you going tohelp yourself?" said he; but the young man did not wait to reply.Quickly he elbowed his way towards the centre of the scene with thatair of authority and determination before which a crowd melts and menstand aside. Gale whispered to his companion:
"Keep your eye open, lad. There's going to be trouble." They stood ontiptoe, and watched eagerly.
"Gentlemen," announced Burrell, standing near the ashen-gray wretch,and facing the tentful of men, "this man is a thief, but you can't killhim!"
Stark leaned across the bar, his eyes blazing, and touched theLieutenant on the shoulder.
"Do you mean to take a hand in all of my affairs?"
"This isn't your affair; it's mine," said the officer. "This is what Iwas sent here for, and it's my particular business. You seem to haveoverlooked that important fact."
"He stole my stuff, and he'll take his medicine."
"I say he won't!"
For the second time in their brief acquaintance these two men lookedfair into each other's eyes. Few men had dared to look at Stark thusand live; for when a man has once shed the blood of his fellow, a maniaobsesses him, a disease obtains that is incurable. There is anexcitation of every sense when a hunter stands up before big game; itcauses a thrill and flutter of undiscovered nerves, which nothing elsecan conjure up, and which once lived leaves an incessant hunger. Butthe biggest game of all is man, and the fiercest sensation is hate.Stark had been a killer, and his brain had been seared with the flametill the scar was ineradicable. He had lived those lurid seconds when aman gambles his life against his enemy's, and, having felt the greatsensation, it could never die; yet with it all he was a cautious man,given more to brooding on his injuries and building up a quarrel thanto reckless paroxysms of passion, and experience had taught him thevalue of a well-handled temper as well as the wisdom of knowing when touse it and put it in action. He knew intuitively that his hour withBurrell had not yet come.
The two men battled with their eyes for an opening. Lee and the othersmastered their surprise at the interruption, and then began to babbleuntil Burrell turned from the gambler and threw up his arm for silence.
"There's no use arguing," he told the mob. "You can't do it. I'll holdhim till the next boat comes, then I'll send him down-river to St.Michael's."
He laid his hand upon the negro and made for the door, with face setand eyes watchful and alert, knowing that a hair's weight might shiftthe balance and cause these men to rive him like wolves.
Lee's indignation at this miscarriage of justice had him so by thethroat as to strangle expostulation for a moment, till he saw thesoldier actually bearing off his quarry. Then he broke into a flood ofinvective.
"Stop that!" he bellowed. "To hell with YOUR law--we're goin' accordin'to our own." An ominous echo arose, and in the midst of it the miner,in his blind fury forgetting his exalted position, took a step too nearthe edge of the bar, and fell off into the body of the meeting. Withhim fell the dignity of the assemblage. Some one laughed; another tookit up; the nervous tension broke, and a man cried:
"The soldier is right. You can't blame a dinge for stealing," andanother: "Sure! Hogs and chickens are legitimate prey."
Lee was helped back to his stand, and called for order; but the
crowdpoked fun at him, and began moving about restlessly till some oneshouted a motion to adjourn, and there arose a chorus of seconders. Afew dissenting voices opposed them, but in the meantime Burrell wasgone, and with him the cause of the tumult; so the meeting broke up ofits own weight a moment later.
As Poleon and Gale walked home, the Frenchman said, "Dat was nervyt'ing to do."
The trader made no answer, and the other continued, "Stark is goin' forkill 'im, sure."
"It's a cinch," agreed Gale, "unless somebody gets Stark first."
When they were come to his door the trader paused, and, looking backover the glowing tents and up at the star-sprinkled heavens, remarked,as if concluding some train of thought, "If that boy has got the nerveto take a nigger thief out of a miners' meeting and hold him againstthis whole town, he wouldn't hesitate much at taking a white man, wouldhe?"
"Wal," hesitated the other, "mebbe dat would depen' on de crime."
"Suppose it was--murder?"
"Ha! We ain' got no men lak' dat in Flambeau."
They said good-night, and the old man entered his house to find Allunawaiting for him, a look of worry on her stolid face.
"What's wrong?" he inquired.
"All night Necia has been weeping."
"Is she sick?" He started for the girl's door, but Alluna stopped him.
"No! It is not that kind of weeping; this comes from the heart. It isthere she is sick. I went to her, but she grew angry, and said I had ablack skin and could not understand; then she went out-doors and hasnot returned."
Gale sat down dejectedly. "Yes, she's sick in her heart, all right, andso am I, Alluna. When did she go out?"
"An hour ago."
"Where is she?"
"Out by the river-bank--I followed her in the shadows. It is best forher to stay there till she is calm."
"I know what ails her," said the father. "She's found that she's notlike other girls. She's found that a white soul doesn't count withwhite people; they never go below the skin." Then he told her of thescene that morning in the store, adding that he believed she lovedLieutenant Burrell.
"Did she say so?"
"No, she denied it, now that she knows she hasn't got his kind of bloodin her."
"Blood makes no difference," said the woman, stubbornly. "If he lovesher, he will take her; if he does not--that is all."
Gale looked up at her, and was about to explain, when the utterimpossibility of her comprehending him made him desist, and he fellmoody again. At last he said, "I've got to tell her, Alluna."
"No, no!" cried the woman, aghast. "Don't tell her the truth! Nothingcould be worse than that!"
But he continued, deliberately: "Love is the biggest thing in theworld; it's the only thing worth while, and she has got to have a fairshow at it. This has been on my mind for weeks, and I've put it away,hoping I wouldn't have to do it; but to-day I came face to face with itagain, and it's up to me. She'll have to know some time, so the soonerthe better."
"She would not believe you," said the woman, at which he started.
"I never thought of that. I wonder if she would doubt! I couldn't standthat."
"There is no proof, and it would mean your life. A good man's life is agreat price to pay for the happiness of one girl--"
"I gave it once before," said Gale, a trifle bitterly, "and now thatthe game is started I've got to play the string out; but--I wonder ifshe would doubt--" He paused for a long moment. "Well, I'll have torisk it. However, I've got a lot of things to do first--you and theyoungsters must be taken care of."
"And Stark?" said Alluna.
"Yes, and Stark."
Burrell took his prisoner to the barracks, where he placed him underguard, giving instructions to hold him at any cost, not knowing whatwild and reckless humor the new citizens of Flambeau might developduring the night, for it is men who have always lived with the halterof the law tight upon their necks who run wildest when it is removed.Men grown old on the frontier adhere more closely to a rigid code thando tenderfeet who feel for the first time the liberty and license ofutter unrestraint, and it was these strangers whom the soldier fearedrather than men like Gale and "No Creek" Lee, who would recognize themercy of his intervention and let the matter drop.
After he had taken every precaution he went out into the night again,and fought with himself as he had fought all that day and all the nightbefore; in fact, ever since old Thomas had come to him after leavingNecia, and had so cunningly shaped his talk that Burrell neversuspected his object until he perceived his position in such a clearlight that the young man looked back upon his work with startled eyes.The Corporal had spoken garrulously of his officer's family; of theirpride, and of their love for his profession; had dwelt enthusiasticallyupon the Lieutenant's future and the length he was sure to go, andfinally drifted into the same story he had told Necia. Burrell at lastsensed the meaning of the crafty old soldier's strategy and dismissedhim, but not before his work had been accomplished. If a coarse-fibred,calloused old campaigner like Corporal Thomas could recognize theimpossibility of a union between Necia and himself, then the young manmust have been blind indeed not to have seen it for himself. TheKentuckian was a man of strong and virile passions, but he was alsowell balanced, and had ever followed his head rather than his heart,holding, as he did, a deep-seated contempt for weak men who laid theircourses otherwise. The generations of discipline back of him spoke tohis conscience. He had allowed himself to become attached to this girluntil--yes, he knew now he loved her. If only he had not awakened herand himself with that first hot kiss; if only--But there was no goingback now, no use for regrets, only the greater necessity of mapping outa course that would cause her least unhappiness. If he could have runaway he would have done so gladly, but he was bound here to this camp,with no possibility of avoiding her.
When he drove his reason with firm hands he saw but one course tofollow; but, when his mind went slack for a moment, the old desire tohave her returned more strongly than ever, and he heard voices arguing,pleading, persuading--she was the equal of any woman in the world, theysaid, in mind, in purity, and in innocence. He hated himself forhesitating; he railed at his own indecision; and then, when he hadjustified his love and persuaded himself that he was right in seekingthis union, there would rise again the picture of his people, theirchagrin, and what would result from such a marriage. He knew how theywould take it; he knew what his friends would say, and how he would betreated as the husband of a half-breed Indian; for in his country onedrop of colored blood made a negro, and his people saw but littledifference between the red and the black. It would mean his socialostracism; he would be shunned by his brother officers, and his careerwould be at an end. He swore aloud in the darkness that this was toogreat a price to pay for love, that he owed it to himself and to hisdear ones at home to give up this dark-eyed maid who had bewitched him.
He had wandered far during this debate, clear past the town, and outthrough the Indian village; but now that he believed he had come to anunderstanding with himself, he turned back towards his quarters. Heknew it would be hard to give her up; but he had irrevocably decided,and his path began to unfold itself so clear and straight that hemarvelled how he could have failed to see it. He was glad he hadconquered, although the pain was still sharp. He felt a better man forit, and, wrapped in this complacent optimism, he passed close by thefront of the trader's store, where Necia had crept to be alone with hermisery.
The high moon cast a deep, wide shadow upon the store steps where thegirl sat huddled, staring out into the unreal world, waiting for thenight wind to blow away the fears and forebodings that would not lether sleep. It was late, and the hush of a summer midnight lay upon thedistant hills. Burrell had almost passed her when he was startled bythe sound of his name breathed softly; then, to his amazement, he sawher come forth like a spirit into the silver sheen.
"Necia!" he cried, "what are you doing here at this hour?" She lookedup at him sadly; he saw that her cheeks were wet, and something insidehim
snapped and broke. Without a word he took her in his arms, meetingher lips in a long kiss, while she, trembling with the joy of hisstrong embrace, drew closer and closer and rested her body wearilyagainst his.
"Little girl! little girl!" he whispered, over and over, his toneconveying every shade of sympathy, love, and understanding she hadcraved. He knew what had made her sad, and she knew that he knew. Therewas no need for words; the anguish of this long day had whetted theedge of their desire, and they were too deeply, too utterly lost in theecstasy of meeting to care for speech.
As she lay cradled in his arms, which alternately held her with thesoft tenderness of a mother and crushed her with the fierce ardor of alover, she lost herself in the bliss of a woman's surrender, and forgotall her terrifying doubts and fears. What were questions of breed orbirth or color now, when she knew he loved her? Mere vapors thatvanished with the first flutter of warm wings.
Nor did Meade Burrell recall his recent self-conquest or pause toreason why he should not love this little wisp of the wilderness. Thebarriers he had built went down in the sight and touch of his love anddisappeared; his hesitation and infirmity seemed childish now--yes,more than that, cowardly. He realized all in a moment that he had beensupremely selfish, that his love was a covenant, a compact, which hehad entered into with her and had no right to dissolve without herconsent, and, strangely enough, now that he acknowledged the bond tohimself, it became very sweet and satisfying.
"Your lips cling so that I can't get free," sighed the girl, at last.
"You never shall," he whispered. But when she smiled up at himpiteously, her eyes swimming, and said, "I must," he wrenched himselfaway and let her go.
As he went lightly towards the barracks through the far-stretchingshadows, for the moon was yellow now, Meade Burrell sighed gladly tohimself. Again his course ran clear and straight before him thoughwholly at variance with the one he had decided upon so recently. But heknew not that his vision was obscured and that the moon-madness wasupon him.