The Fur Bringers Part 50

"Please go back!" she whispered imploringly. "I come in. I got talk with you."

He drew himself back into the shack with none too good a grace.

Standing over the hole when she appeared, he put his hands under her arms and, drawing her through, stood her upon her feet.

He could have tossed the little thing in the air with scarcely an effort. She turned about and came close to him.

"I so glad to be by you!" she breathed.

She emanated a delicate natural fragrance like pine-trees or wild roses--but Ambrose could only think of freedom.

"You managed to get here without being seen," he grumbled.

"You foolis.h.!.+" she whispered tenderly. "I little. I can hide behind leaves sof' as a link. Your white face him show by the moon lak a little moon. Are you sorry you got stay with me little while?"

"No!" he said. "But--I'm sick to be out of this!"

She put her hands on his shoulders and drew him down. "Sit on the floor," she whispered. "Your ear too moch high for my mouth."'

They sat, leaning against the footboard of the bed, Like a confiding child she snuggled her shoulder under his arm and drew the arm around her. What was he to do hut hold her close?

"It is true, you ver' moch strong," she murmured. "Lak a bear. But a bear is ogly."

"You didn't think I was pretty to-day, did you,", he said with a grin, "with a week's growth on my chin?"

She softly stroked his cheek. "Wah!" she said, laughing. "Lak porcupine! Red man not have strong beard lak that. They say you sc.r.a.pe it off with a knife every day."

"When I have the knife," said Ambrose.

"Why you do that?" she asked. "I lak see it grow down long lak my hair. That would be wonderful!"

Ambrose trembled with internal laughter.

"I lak everything of you," she murmured.

He was much troubled between his grat.i.tude and his inability to reciprocate the nave pa.s.sion she had conceived for him. It is pleasant to be loved and flattered and exalted, but it entails obligations.

"I never can thank you properly for what you've done," he said clumsily.

"I do anything for you," she said quickly. "So soon my eyes see you to the dance I know that. Always before that I am think about white men.

I not see no white men before, only the little parson, and the old men at the fort. They not lak you? My father is the same as me. He lak white men. We talk moch about white men. My fat'er say to me never forget the Angleys talk. Do I spik Angleys good, Angleysman?"

"Fine!" whispered Ambrose.

She pulled his head forward so that she could breathe her soft speech directly in his ear.

"My father and me not the same lak other people here. We got white blood. Men not talk with their girls moch. My fat'er talk man talk with me. Because he is got no boys, only me. So I know many things.

"I think, women's talk foolish. Many tam my fat'er say to me, Angleys talk mak' men strong. He say to me, some day Watusk kill me for cause I spik the Angleys.

"So in the tam of falling leaves lak this, three years ago, my fat'er he is go down the river to the big falls to meet the people from Big Buffalo Lake.

"My fat'er and ten men go. Bam-by them come back. My fat'er not in any dugout. Them say my fat'er is hunt with Ahcunza one day. My fat'er is fall in the river and go down the big falls.

"They say that. But I know the truth. Ahcunza is a friend of Watusk.

Watusk give him his vest with goldwork after. My fat'er is dead. I am lak wood then. My mot'er sell me to Watusk. I not care for not'ing."

"Your mother, sell you!" murmured Ambrose.

"My mot'er not lak me ver' moch," said Nesis simply. "She mad for cause I got white blood. She mad for cause my fat'er all tam talk with me."

"Three years ago!" said Ambrose. "You must have been a little girl then!"

"I fourteen year old then. My mot'er got 'not'er osban' now. Common man. They gone with Buffalo Lake people. I not care. All tam I think of my fat'er. He is one fine man.

"Las' summer the priest come here. Mak' good talk, him. Say if we good, bam-by we see the dead again. What you think, is that true talk, Angleysman?"

Ambrose's arm tightened around the wistful child. "Honest truth!" he whispered.

She opened her simple heart fully to him. Her soft speech tumbled out as if it had been dammed all these years, and only now released by a touch of kindness.

Ambrose was touched as deeply as a young man may be by a woman he does not love, yet he could not help glancing over her head at the square of sky obliquely revealed through the window. It gradually darkened.

"The moon has gone down," he said at last.

Nesis clung to him. "Ah, you so glad to leave me!" she whimpered.

He gently released himself. "Think of me a little," he said. "I must get a long start before daylight."

She buried her face on her knees. Her shoulders shook.

"Nesis!" he whispered appealingly.

She lifted her head and flung a hand across her eyes. "No good cry,"

she murmured. "Come on!"

Nesis led the way out through the hole they had dug. Job followed Ambrose. Outside, for greater safety, he took the dog in his arms.

The moon had sunk behind the hill across the river, but it was still dangerously bright. Nesis took hold of Ambrose's sleeve and pointed off to the right. She whispered in his ear:

"Ev'ry tam feel what is under your foot before step hard."

She did not make directly for the river, but led him step by step up the hill toward a growth of timber that promised safety. The first hundred yards was the most difficult.

They rose above the shack into the line of vision of the guards in front, had they elevated their eyes. Nesis, crouching, moved like a cat after a bird.

Ambrose followed, scarcely daring to breathe. Even the dog understood and lay as if dead in Ambrose's arms.

The danger decreased with every step. When they gained the trees they could fairly count themselves safe. Even if an alarm were raised now it would take time to find them in the dark.