The Whelps of the Wolf Part 4

"By Gar! Jean Marcel!" cried Jules Duroc, his swart face lighting with joy as he crushed the wanderer in a bear hug. "We t'ink you sure starve out een de bus.h.!.+ You fin' de Beeg Salmon headwater? You see de Windigo?"

"Oui, I fin' de riviere for sure, Jules; but de Windigo he scared of me.

I tell heem Jean Marcel ees fr'en' of Jules Duroc."

The laughter in the doorway drew the attention of two men descending the ladder from the fur-loft.

"Well, as I live, Jean Marcel!" cried Colin Gillies, the factor, and he wrung the hand of the son of his old head man until Marcel grimaced with pain.

"You're sure good for sore eyes, Jean; we were about giving you up!"

added Andrew McCain, the clerk, seizing Jean's free hand.

"Bon jour, M'sieu Gillies! Bon jour, Andrew! Dey say I leeve my bones on de Beeg Salmon; de Husky shoot at me; but--Tiens! I am here!"

"What? You had trouble with the Huskies?"

"Oui, dey t'o't I was a devil, because I come down riviere from de Bad-Lands, but Kovik, he talk to dem an' I stay. Tell dem I come from Whale Riviere. Den dey get mad because I feesh salmon at de rapide and mak' trouble; and poor Kovik, he tell dem dat I am bad spirit, so I can get away."

Jean laughed heartily at the memory of Kovik's dilemma. "Dey mus' t'ink poor Kovik ees d.a.m.n liar by dees tam." Then he added soberly, "But he save my life."

Seated with his three friends, Marcel told of his struggle to reach the Salmon, his meeting with the Esquimos, and escape with his dog.

"So you got a dog after all, Jean? But you were crazy to take a chance with those Huskies; they won't stand trespa.s.sing on their fisheries and they were shy of you because you came from the headwaters. I'm glad you didn't kill that pair, much as they deserved it. It would have made trouble later."

"Good old Kovik! We won't forget him," added McCain.

"No, that we will not," agreed Gillies. "He thought a lot of your father, Jean."

"Wal," said Jean proudly, "I weel have good dog-team een two year. Dat pup, she ees wort' all de work an' trouble to get her."

"You're lucky," said Gillies. "It's mighty hard on our hunters not to have good dogs, but they couldn't pay the Huskies' price. The Crees only took three for breeding purposes, and six cost us a thousand in trade.

The rest were taken to Fort George and East Main."

The days at the Mission with Pere Breton and Julie raced by--hours of unalloyed happiness for Jean after ten months in the "bush." Not a day pa.s.sed that did not find him romping with the great puppy who had learned to gaze at her tall master through slant eyes eloquent with love. Each morning when he visited the Mission fish nets and his own, the puppy rode in the bow of the canoe. Each afternoon, often accompanied by Julie Breton, they went for a run up the river sh.o.r.e. Man and dog were inseparable.

When he heard that Kovik had arrived, Jean brought Fleur down to the sh.o.r.e, to find the family absent from their lodge. To Marcel's amazement, his puppy at first failed to recognize her brothers, who, yelping madly, rushed her in a ma.s.s.

With flattened ears, and mane stiffened on neck and back, their doughty sister met them half-way. Bowling one over, she shouldered another to the ground, where she threatened him with a fierce display of teeth. And not until their worried mother, made fast to a stake, had recognized her lost daughter and lured her within reach of her tongue, did the nose of Jean's puppy reveal to her the ident.i.ty of her kin. Then there was a mad frolic in which she bullied and roughed her brothers as in the forgotten days before the master with the low voice and the hand that never struck her, took her away in his canoe.

When Kovik appeared in his umiak with his squat wife and family, there was a general handshaking.

"How you leeve my fr'en' on de Salmon, Kovik?"

The Husky gravely shook his head.

"Kovik have troub' wid young men you shoot. Dey say Kovik bad spirit too. You not hurt by dem?"

"Dey miss me an' I dreef down riviere an' ambush dem. I could keel dem easy but eet mak' eet bad for you. Here ees tabac, an' tea an' sugar for de woman. I tell M'sieu Gillies w'at you do for Jean Marcel."

When Jean had distributed his gifts, Fleur came trotting up, but to his delight refused to allow Kovik to touch her.

"Huh! Dat you' dog!" chuckled the Husky.

"Oui, she ees my dog, now," laughed Jean, and his heart went out to the puppy who already knew but one allegiance.

CHAPTER VI

FOR LOVE OF A DOG

The spring trade at Whale River was nearing its end. One by one the tepees in the post clearing disappeared as, each day, canoes of Cree hunters started up-river for lakes of the interior, to net fish for the coming winter. Already the umiaks of the Esquimos peopled with women and children had followed the ebb-tide down to the great Bay, bound for their autumn hunting camps along the north coast.

When Jean Marcel had traded his fur and purchased what flour, ammunition and other supplies he needed to carry him through the long snows of the coming winter, he found that a substantial balance remained to his credit on the books of the Company; a nest egg, he hoped, for the day when, perchance, as a _voyageur_ of the Company with a house at the post, he might stand with Julie at his side and receive the blessing of the good Pere Breton. But Jean realized that that day was far away.

Before he might hope to be honored by the Company with the position and trust his father had so long enjoyed, he knew he must prove his mettle and his worth; for the Company crews and dog-runners, entrusted with the mails, the fur-brigades and Company business in general, are men chosen for their intelligence, stamina and skill as canoemen and dog-drivers.

When he had packed his last load of winter supplies from the trade-house to the Mission, he said with a laugh to Julie:

"Julie, we have made a good start, you and I. We have credit of three hundred dollars with the Company."

The olive skin of Julie Breton flushed to the dusky crown of hair, but she retorted with spirit:

"You are counting your geese before they are shot, M'sieu Jean. Merci!

But I am very happy with Pere Henri."

Pere Breton's laugh interrupted Jean's reply. "Yes, my son. Julie is right. You are too young, you two, to think of anything but your souls."

"Some day, Julie, I will be a Company man and then you will listen to Jean Marcel," and the lad who had cherished the memory of the girl's oval face through the long winter and taken it with him into the dim, blue Ungava hills, left the Mission with head erect and swinging stride.

"Jean, when are you going back to the bush?" inquired Gillies, as Marcel entered the trade-house.

"My partners and I go next week, maybe."

"Well, I want you to take a canoe to Duck Island for me. We're short-handed here, and you have just come down that coast. I promised some Huskies to leave a cache of stuff there this summer."

Marcel's dark features reddened with pride. He had been put in charge of a canoe bound on Company business. His crossing to the Big Salmon had marked him at Whale River as a canoeman of daring--a chip of the old block, worthy of the name Marcel.

"Bien! M'sieu Gillies, when do we start?"

"To-day, after dinner!"

Returning to the Mission elated, Marcel ate his dinner, made up his pack while they wished him "Bon-voyage!" then went out to the stockade.

At the gate he was met simultaneously by the impact of a s.h.a.ggy body and the swift licks of an eager tongue. Then Fleur circled him at full speed, yelping her delight, while she worked off the excitement of seeing her playmate again, until, at length, she trotted up and nosed his hand, keen for the daily rubbing of her ears which drew from her deep throat grateful mutterings of content.

"I leave my pet.i.te chienne for a few days," he whispered into a hairy ear. "She will be a good dog and obey Ma'm'selle Julie, who will feed her?"

The puppy broke away and ran to the gate, turning to him with p.r.i.c.ked ears as she whined for the daily stroll into the scrub after snow-shoe rabbits.