Chapter 19

He headed straight across, leaving it to the current to carry him safely below the camp. Ordinarily, fifty strokes would have carried him over, but the terrible cold congealed the very sap of his body; and the clumsy little raft offered as much resistance as a log. He could not tell how far he was carried down. Reaching the other side at last, he could scarcely crawl out on the stones. He was too stiff to attempt to draw on his clothes; the best he could do was to roll in his blankets, and writhe to restore the circulation.

His limbs were rigid; his feet and hands wholly numb--but the will rules even bodily exhaustion. He would not tolerate the thought of weakness; he _would_ get warm; and his reluctant blood was forced at last to resume its course through his veins. Warmth returned with excruciating pain. He conceded his worn body a little rest--for he knew they could not get their horses before morning--but in an hour, dressed, and with his pack and his gun on his back, he was crawling back toward Grylls's camp.

This shore of the river, like the other, was formed of fragments and masses of rock, which had fallen from the cliffs above. He made his way with infinite caution, giving heed to every foothold, and feeling before him with his hands. Fortunately there was little snow to obstruct him; for what had descended into the gorge was lodged in the crevices of the stones. He crawled over heaps of rubble, digging his toes in, to keep from sliding into the water; and there were great hundred-ton boulders, over which he dragged himself on his stomach. Above the canyon there were no stars visible; and below, it was wrapped in darkness, thick, velvety, palpable as lamp-black.

After measuring the inches of a long and painful journey over the stones, he sensed at last that he was drawing near the camp again. He redoubled his caution, hugging close to the wall of rock. Presently it fell away to the right; and before him he distinguished a faint whitish blur that he knew for the tepee. He stretched himself out to listen. Under all was the deadened boom of the falls; below him an indefinable murmur arose from the smooth river, and an occasional eddy slapped the stones; in front he was vaguely conscious of the three persons moving to and fro, and he heard the dull chink of each stone, as it ground its edges on the pile. They had relaxed their caution somewhat; once or twice a stone, rolling out of place, plumped into the water. They were at work at the other end of their barricade from Garth.

He considered what he should do. His brain was working very clearly--dragging his exhausted body along after, as it were; for excitement and over-exertion had produced a curious feeling of detachment from it. As he waited there, the work on the barricade ceased; and a whispered consultation was held. If he could only hear! Afterward two figures approached the tepee and entered. Instantly Garth let himself down over the rocks behind, and snaking his body through the bit of herbage on the flat, applied his ear to the bottom of the canvas.

He heard Mabyn's voice ask querulously: "What was it you said to her?"

"Told her to sit on top of the wall, and watch," Grylls carelessly answered. "They can't cross the river until morning, but we're not taking any chances, just the same. She's to watch, too, that the lady doesn't try to sneak the raft across to her friends."

"You're going to clear out in the morning?" Mabyn asked anxiously.

"Not on your life!" the other coolly returned. "We got shelter and good water here, the horses are safe above; and we command the only crossing of the river. We'll sit right here until their grub runs out. They can't have brought much!"

"The police may hear," Mabyn murmured.

"Let 'em come and welcome," said Grylls. "They know me! As for you, I guess a man can take a journey with his lawful wife, can't he?"

There was a pause. A match was struck. Garth guessed that Grylls was resuming his interrupted smoke.

"Seems to me we hold pretty much all the trumps," he went on complacently. "My idea is, Pevensey's all alone over there. That was a pretty smart rap on the nut, the boy got. But even if there's two of them, what can they do? We've got cover, and they've got to show themselves; it's a funny thing if we can't pot them easy. We got a right to; they killed our man first."

"Hadn't I better ride on with her to the Slavi Indians?" Mabyn suggested in a tone that he laboured to make sound off-hand.

Grylls chuckled fatly. "What! And deprive me of the pleasure of her company!" he said mockingly. "I guess not!"

Mabyn was silent. Garth dimly apprehended what a torment of impotent fear and rage the creature must be enduring. He had delivered himself hand and foot into Grylls's power; and Grylls no longer even kept up a pretense of hiding his own designs on Natalie.

"Better turn in," Grylls said indifferently. "No need for you to watch to-night. I'll have a snooze myself, and go out and relieve Mary before dawn."

Garth had heard enough; they were all placed for him; and his way was clear. He softly drew himself around the further side of the tepee, pausing long between every move, to listen. Both their lives depended on his making no sound now; every faculty he possessed was bent on it; he took half an hour to make thirty feet. He circled the inside edge of the little triangle of flat ground, keeping in the shadow of the piled rocks. Crossing the little stream that issued over the flat was hardest; but he managed it; patiently studying each move in advance. Finally he approached the tent. Beyond, he fancied he could distinguish the vague outline of the wall running across; and upon it a huddled figure, a mere hint of substance against the pit of darkness behind.

He felt his way around the tent. He found the canvas of the back wall was made in one piece. With shaking fingers, he drew his knife out of its sheath; and inserting the point in the centre of the stuff, softly drew it back and forth, a stroke at a time. His heart was beating like a steam drill; he swallowed his sobbing breath. Every instant he expected to hear Natalie scream from within.

He severed the last thread at last; and put up his knife. He parted the flaps; and listened for sounds from within in an agony of indecision. He could not tell if she slept or was awake; he dared not so much as whisper her name; and if he touched her and she slept, how could she help but awake with a cry!

But she was not asleep; and she had all her wits about her. Close to his ear, a voice soft as a zephyr in the grass whispered his name. A trembling breath of relief escaped his lips; and instantly an arm was wreathed about his neck; and a soft cheek pressed against his rough one. He caught her to him; her slim frame quivered through and through. It was his own Natalie; the feel of her! the fragrance of her! Life holds but one such moment.

"I knew you'd come! I knew you'd come!" she breathed in his ear.

Her terrible agitation was the means of calming his own. He had to be cool for both. He pressed her close to him, stroking her hair.

"Brave, _brave_ Natalie!" he whispered. "Not a sound, till we are clear!"

He gave her a moment to recover herself, letting his encircling arms speak the comfort and cheer he could not utter. Little by little the piteous trembling subsided and the rigid form relaxed.

"Ready, now?" he whispered.

She eagerly nodded.

"I lead the way," he breathed in her ear; "and you keep close at my heels. Take it easy. It must be hands and knees, and an inch at a time."

Natalie pressed his hand to her lips.

He crawled through the hole, and waited for her outside. She made no sound. He touched her reassuringly; and realized with a pang how she was handicapped, with one arm in a sling. They crept back around the foot of the piled rocks, dragging themselves with tense muscles, a foot at a time and waiting long between. By the touch of her hand on his foot he knew she followed close. Looking over his shoulder, he sensed the huddled figure still motionless on the wall.

He could not have told what gave the alarm. They had reached the rivulet, when suddenly Mary leaped off the wall with a cry that brought the two men tumbling out of the tepee.

Garth, springing to his feet, seized Natalie's hand, and pulled her after him.

"Come on!" he whispered cheerily. "We're safe now!"

They scrambled up over the stones of the watercourse, careless of the noise they made.

"What is it?" they heard Grylls shout below.

A sentence in Cree explained.

"Watch the raft!" he shouted. "I'll bring her back!"

They heard him run heavily toward them. Hastily unslinging his gun, Garth sent a shot at random through the darkness. They heard the bullet spring off a stone. The steps ceased.

"By God! _he's_ up there!" cried Grylls thickly. "Come back, Mabyn! We'll get 'em easy in the morning!"

There was no further sound of pursuit.

As they climbed, Garth searched from side to side, as well as he could in the darkness, for a suitable spot to make a stand. High above the level of the river, a huge cube of rock resting squarely in the bottom of the ravine, and forcing the stream to travel around it, offered what he wanted. One side of the boulder lay against a steep rocky wall; and in the angle was a secure niche for Natalie.

Her courage failed a little when she saw he meant to stop. "Not here! Not here!" she protested nervously. "We must put miles between us before morning!"

"The way home lies back across the river," Garth said gently.

"Then why did you come up here?" she said a little wildly. "They'll never let us back!"

His heart ached for her, at the thought of what she must still go through. "Courage! for one more day, my Natalie!" he urged, drawing her to him. "We can't start without horses and food, and those I have to win for you!"

"You make me ashamed!" she whispered.

He heard no more whimpering.

Garth, appreciating the vital necessity of sleep, if he was to keep his wits about him next day, lay down in his blankets while Natalie kept watch. With the first tinge of gray overhead, she woke him, as he had bidden her.

"If we only had a good breakfast to begin on!" were his waking words; "and there's nothing but raw flour and water."

Natalie, in answer to this prayer, produced a flat package from her dress which proved to contain bread and meat. "I always kept something, in case I should be able to get away," she explained.

They ate, sitting quietly side by side in the darkness--they could even laugh a little together now--and they arose vastly refreshed.

Garth climbed the big rock to wait for daylight to reveal the strength and the weakness of the position he had chosen. The top of the rock formed a flat plane slightly inclined toward their rear; and, lying at full length upon it, he could shoot over the edge without exposing more than the top of his head. He lifted up a heavy stone or two; and stood them along the edge for further protection. Then he waited--waited for hours it seemed to him; looking and looking down the ravine until his eyes were fit to start out of his head; and he could see nothing; but lo! when he looked again the light was there!

On the whole he was satisfied. His rock commanded the entire ravine below; it was as steep as a pair of stairs. There was not a stick of herbage below; only a trough of heaped and broken rock masses. On either hand they were shut in by straight lead-coloured walls of rock; and at the bottom of the ravine, the forbidding, mist-gray wall of the main gorge cut off the view. In front and on the left they were amply protected; their right flank was the weak spot. Above them on this side, part of the wall of the ravine had given way some ages past; and a bit of the plain had sunk down. The hollow thus formed contained a grove of gaunt trees and underbrush. If their assailants, under cover of the rocks on the way, ever climbed to it, Garth and Natalie would be badly off indeed.

It was a grim figure that the first rays of light revealed sitting on the big rock. Garth had lost his hat long ago; and he was both unshaven and unshorn. He crouched, hugging his knees, with his rifle across his thighs; and his sheepskin coat hung over his shoulders ready to fling off, when he needed to act. The flannel shirt beneath was in rags; and his moccasins, mere apologies for foot-coverings. But to Natalie, regarding the cool, bright shine of his eyes, as he smiled down on her, he was wholly beautiful. She was scarcely better off; her pale face was enframed in a sad wreck of a limp, stained felt hat; but she could smile too; and Garth had never found her lovelier in her bravery.

The suspense was well-nigh intolerable--and so they fell to chaffing.

"If mother could only see us now!" said Garth with a grin.

"I feel like a white cat coming out of a coal-bin," said Natalie. "'What's the use!' she says, looking round at herself. 'The job is too big to tackle. If I was only a black cat it wouldn't show!'"

"You could walk right on as Liz, the girl bandit of the Rockies," said Garth.

"Don't you talk!" she retorted. "You look as if Liz had missed her cue, and you'd been through the sawmill!"

And then Garth saw a black sleeve sticking out from behind a rock in the ravine below; and he got down to business. A little sigh of relief escaped him at the sight of his enemies at last. He fired. The shot went wide.

Natalie sank back in her corner, deathly pale; and with a hand over her lips, to keep from crying out. Her part was harder than his.

He called down to her reassuringly. "All right! Only a try-out!"

Further down, a second figure showed briefly, scrambling up the right-hand side of the trough. Garth fired--a fraction of a second too late. He could scarcely credit such nimble agility in a figure so gross. It was Grylls. Thus two of them were accounted for. Searching for the third, he saw the black crown of a hat projecting above a stone on the other side of the ravine. This was an easy shot; he aimed and fired with a savage satisfaction. The hat disappeared; but again he knew, somehow, that his bullet had not found its mark.

At the same moment Grylls won a rock a yard higher up. He was not coming up the bottom of the ravine, but aiming obliquely up the side for the trees high above. Garth, grimly covering his shelter, saw him bob his head around; a bare, cropped, tousled head, like a hiding schoolboy's. Quick as he was with the trigger, Grylls was quicker. The bullet flattened itself harmlessly beyond.

As he shot there was a scramble across the ravine; and he saw the other figure had mounted. The hat, Mabyn's hat, again showed; and he took another shot at it. This time the bullet knocked it spinning off the rifle barrel which upheld it; and in a flash Garth understood how neatly they were fooling him. Each in turn drew his fire, while the other made an advance. He resolved to shoot no more.

Meanwhile the first one he had glimpsed, which must be Mary, had not moved from the middle of the ravine. Some of the stones were moved, and he guessed she had made a permanent shelter there. There was a shot from below, and the bullet spattered itself on the heavy base of rock. Holding his hand, Garth awaited a second shot. He saw a tiny white puff at last, and marked the aperture whence it issued. The bullet hurtled whiningly overhead. Steadying his gun on the edge of the rock, he took careful aim--but the other spoke first. It was a marvellous shot--or a chance one. The bullet splintered the edge of the stone protecting Garth's head, and sang off. A jagged sliver of stone ploughed across the back of his extended hand. He exclaimed as in casual surprise, and his gun exploded harmlessly in the air. He looked at his hand stupidly as at an alien member; then suddenly he understood; and whipping out his handkerchief, bound up the wound, knotting the linen with teeth and fingers.

Up to this moment Garth had been playing a dispassionate game; but he returned to his loophole conscious of a great surge of cold rage against those below. He yearned to get even; but he could wait for it. Mabyn exposed his hat tantalizingly; Grylls shot out a foot, or bobbed up his head--but Garth saved his bullets. He would not even try to pierce the sharpshooters' defenses again. An occasional shot came from there; but never such another as the last.

Finally Grylls changed his tactics. From behind his rock he taunted Garth vilely. The walls of the ravine reverberated horridly with the sound of the sudden human voice.

But Garth still bided his time; merely adding the insult of the words to Natalie's ears, to the score of his rage.

Natalie in the meantime, thankful to have something to do, had been piling stones as heavy as she could lift, on the rock behind him. She had torn the sling from her arm; and was using the weaker member to steady the other.

Garth, fearful that Grylls might succeed in flanking them at last, ordered her to climb up behind him; and without turning his head, told her how to make a little parapet along the top of the rock on the exposed side.

Garth finally got his chance. A little stone rolled down from Mabyn's hiding-place; and he instantly trained his gun on the spot. Mabyn, miscalculating, or losing his head, suddenly scurried for the next rock. Garth had marked it. Mabyn gained it, but before he could pull his legs after him the rifle spoke. There was a scream of pain; and Mabyn's body, sliding from behind the rock, rolled and dropped heavily from stone to stone. A leg caught in a fissure and stayed him; he hung head downward, writhing in hideous, theatrical postures of agony, and screaming like a woman. Garth, thinking of Natalie, longed to send a shot to still the noise; but his hand was held by his promise to Rina.

It was all over in a minute after that. Grylls, careless of the other's fate, scrambled up from stone to stone. Garth peppered his course with bullets; but the rocks were scattered so thickly, Grylls needed to expose himself for scarcely a second at a time. He gained the trees at last.

An instant of terrible suspense succeeded. Garth made Natalie lie close under the little wall she had been building. He crouched over her, himself fully exposed, searching the hillside with strained eyes. Suddenly he saw the bloated face not thirty yards away. Grylls had partly stepped from behind a tree and was deliberately taking aim. Garth sprang to his knees. The two guns spoke at once. Grylls pitched headfirst down the steep slope into view; and rolled down the bare rocks into the tiny stream.

"I've got him!" shouted Garth triumphantly.

Even as he spoke he toppled over sideways. Natalie clutched at him wildly; but his coat was pulled out of her grasp. He slid off the rock and dropped on the stones behind. In an instant she was at his side. He was already struggling to rise--his teeth pressed into his lip until the blood oozed between.

"Only my left shoulder," he muttered. "I can still shoot. There's Mary, yet. Help me up."

Somehow, with her aid, he managed to pull himself back on the rock, one arm dangling useless. Through his loophole, he saw Mary toiling openly up the ravine. He showed himself. At the sight of him the old woman paused and held out her hands as if inviting him to shoot. She had left her gun. When he made no offer to fire, she quietly continued her climb. Garth watched her grimly.

Reaching Grylls's body, she unwound a woollen scarf from about her waist; and passing it under his shoulders, partly hoisted his great bulk on her back with an incredible effort; and started down again. Grylls was quite dead; his heels thudded limply from stone to stone.

Long before she reached the bottom, Garth lost interest in her progress. He had fainted.

Natalie, working to restore him, distracted, hopeless, crazed, suddenly heard a distant shout; and looking up distinguished a little cavalcade winding down the face of the great gorge. There was a red coat among them.

"Garth! We're saved! We're _saved_!" she cried to his unhearing ears.

XXV

EPILOGUE: SPOKEN BY CHARLEY

In the city of Winnipeg on a brilliant day toward the end of winter, a broad-shouldered, ruddy youth, with dancing blue eyes and a capacious smile, came running down a side street, and catching a certain fence-post at full speed, swung himself inside the gate with the dexterity of old practice; sprang up the steps and banged on the door.

It was opened questioningly by a little mouse of a woman, with great brown eyes, and gray strands mixing in her bright, brown hair.

The boy flung his arms around her like a bear. "Mother!" he cried breathlessly.

"Charley! My boy!" she gasped.

He picked her up bodily; and, kicking the door shut, carried her into the cheerful sitting room, where geraniums bloomed on the sunny window-sill, and a fire danced in the grate.

"I'm bigger than you are now!" he chuckled joyously. He put her in her chair; and waltzed about the room, touching the well-remembered objects. "By Jolly! the very same pictures, the good old sofa!" he sang. "Oh, it's good to be home!"

The mother held out her arms. "My boy! My boy!" was all she could say.

Dropping to his knees, he embraced her again. "You dear old lady," he cried. "What a trouble I always was! It's your turn to have a good time now!"

"It's enough to have you back," she murmured.

He gyrated about the room again. "Say, I feel as giddy as a puppy after a bath! Imagine trolley-cars and baby-carriages and show windows and silver knives and forks after two years in the North. Say, I've clean forgot how to eat stylish!"

"How long are you going to stay?" she murmured.

He came to a stand beside her. "I'm not going back," he said in a deeper tone. "It's a bully country and I had a whale of a time--but I belong here! I'm going to take care of you now, and bring up the kids. I'm a man now,"--his face changed comically--"Don't laugh!" he begged. "I used to say that all the time; but it's different now; you'll see! I've had experience!"

She held out her arms to him again. "Tell me, my son," she whispered.

He dropped to the floor beside her; and laid his head against her knee. There, in front of the fire, while the sun went down, and the early winter twilight gathered, he told her the story.

"When Garth rode away leaving me and Rina in the poplar bluff," he said--reaching that part in due course--"I didn't know much what was happening. But say, that Rina, she's an out-o'-sight nurse! She brought me around in great shape; and the second day afterward I was as peart as you please. That same day the fellows from the Crossing turned up; Jim Plaskett, the policeman, and three others. It was Jim made them come, soon as he heard the story. Jim's a peacherino! One of these lean, quiet chaps you can depend on; decent, too, clean-mouthed--Oh! Jim's looked up to, I can tell you!

"They wanted me to rest a while yet, till they came back. But they had plenty of spare horses, and Rina and I wouldn't stand for being left behind. We rode like sixty all next day, and camped only fifteen miles from Death River. We found the bones of Garth's horse on the way--picked clean; and the note he left every place he camped. You ought to have heard Jim Plaskett crack up Garth's pluck--and Jim knows!

"We reached the canyon about half-past six in the morning. I'd heard of that place from the Indians. Say, it was a fearsome spot! a kind of crooked, gaping split in the prairie like the pictures in Dante's Inferno. The walls were as bare and hard and cold as black ice; and way down in the bottom there was a horrible jelly-like water swirling around without making any noise. Seems if you couldn't breathe good when you got into the place! Minded me of the receiving vault in the cemetery.