Glen of the High North Page 6

  CHAPTER VI

  A SHOT THAT TOLD

  The life at Big Draw mining camp on Scupper Creek did not appeal toReynolds. He watched the men at work upon their various claims, andnoted how meagre was their success. They toiled like slaves, lured onby the hope of a rich strike that never came. The principal place ofmeeting was the roadhouse, where "Shorty" Bill held sway. He lodgedmen, served meals, and conducted a bar. He was a good-hearted fellow,rough and uncouth, but well liked by all, and a genial companion. Itwas, therefore, but natural that at this place many of the men shouldcongregate at night, and at times during the day, for a brief respitefrom their labors. It was here, too, that news would occasionallydrift in from the outside world, which would be discussed by the men asthey played cards, the only amusement for which they seemed to care.When the mail arrived, as it did at irregular intervals, all work onthe creek was suspended, and the men flocked to the roadhouse toreceive their scanty dole of letters and papers. Shorty was thecustodian of the mail after its arrival, and he magnified his office.With a quid of tobacco tucked away in his cheek, he would study eachaddress most carefully before calling forth the owner's name in astentorian voice.

  Although mining was not in his line, Reynolds realised that he must dosomething. As he studied the life of the camp, and watched the men attheir work, he thought of his friend, the editor. What an article hemight write for _The Telegram_ that would make the editor's eyes dancewith joy. And he could do it, too, he felt certain, if he could onlyget up sufficient energy. He could add a number of sketches drawn fromlife, which would be of much value. He thought of all this as hewandered aimlessly around, and as he lay at night in his little tent.

  Several days thus passed without anything being done. Frontier Samsonhad again disappeared, and no one had any idea where he had gone.Reynolds soon grew tired with having nothing to do, so he accordinglyturned his attention to the hills. Fresh meat was urgently needed forthe camp, as the miners would not spare the time to go after itthemselves. Wild sheep roamed the mountains, and Reynolds decided thathe could make more money by supplying the camp with meat than diggingfor the uncertain gold. It would also satisfy his desire to get awayinto the wilds, where he could explore to his heart's content themysteries of the foothills, the great valleys, and the vast expanses ofwild meadows.

  Reynolds at once put this plan into execution, and each morning he leftcamp for a day in the hills. At night he returned, loaded down with amountain sheep he had bagged, and which he readily sold for severalounces of gold. When not hunting, he would spend his time eitherexploring some creek or lying on the hillside studying the sceneryaround him, and imbibing impressions for the masterpieces he planned toproduce.

  But it was not always the beauties of nature which occupied his mind.No matter where he went Glen was ever with him. In some mysteriousmanner she seemed to be near, and he wondered if he should ever see heragain. He often looked away to the east, for there Frontier Samson hadtold him she lived. How far off was the place? he asked himself, andif he did find her what would her lion of a father do? He was temptedto make the try, anyway, and find out for himself if Jim Weston was asdesperate a character as he had been painted. He could do no more thankill him, and he did not fear death. Had he not often faced it on thefield of battle, and why should he shrink now?

  The more Reynolds thought about this, the more inclined he became tomake the effort. It would be another grand adventure to once again goover the top. He might fail, but he would have the satisfaction ofmaking the attempt and showing Glen that he was not a coward. He hadbeen longing for some wild undertaking, and here was the opportunityright at hand. It would be far more preferable than spending his timearound camp, or even hunting mountain sheep.

  He was thinking seriously of this one beautiful afternoon as he lay onthe side of a deep ravine beneath a big weather-beaten fir tree.Below, a brook gurgled, now very small owing to the dryness of theseason, but at times swollen by floods into a raging torrent. Acrossthis ravine the mountain rose steep and rugged. Along its side anarrow trail wound, worn smooth by the feet of Indians, mountain sheep,and other denizens of the wild. Reynolds idly wondered whither thetrail led, and he was half tempted to start forth on an explorationjourney. But it was so comfortable there on the hillside that he gaveup the idea, so, lying full upon his back with his hands under hishead, he watched the tops of the far-off mountains, and the cloudsdrifting across the great savannas of the blue.

  For some time he remained thus, thinking of Glen and recalling the lasttime he had seen her. He was trying once more to solve the mystery ofher disappearance from Whitehorse, when a sudden noise across theravine arrested his attention. Casting his eyes in that direction,great was his surprise to see a woman mounted on a magnificent horseriding slowly down that crooked and dangerous trail. Then his heartleaped within him as he recognized Glen. What was he to do? heintuitively asked himself. Should he remain where he was, or hurrydown to the brook to meet her? But what right had he to go near her?He had never spoken a word to her, and as she did not even know who hewas, she might resent his appearance. Would it not be better for himto remain where he was, and worship at a distance? But was itgentlemanly that he should stay there and watch her when she wasunaware of his presence?

  And all this time Glen was coming slowly down that winding trail.Reynolds watched her almost spell-bound. She was a superb horsewoman,and rode as one born to the saddle. How graceful was her figure, andhow perfectly the noble animal she was riding responded to the lightesttouch of the rein as he cautiously advanced. Reynolds could see thegirl most plainly now. She sat astride the saddle, with the reins inher right hand, and a small riding-whip in the other. She worebuckskin riding-breeches, a khaki-colored blouse, open at the throat,and a soft felt hat of the same color. The sleeves of her blouse wererolled up to her elbows, thus exposing her strong, supple arms. Allthis Reynolds quickly noticed, and he believed that he had never beforebeheld a more beautiful picture of true virile womanhood.

  The horse was jet-black, and although walking on such a perilous anddifficult trail, it was easy to tell at the first glance that it was asplendid thoroughbred. The animal's carriage showed not only pride inbearing such a beautiful rider, but a full sense of its responsibilityas well. Fine were its proportions, reminding Reynolds more of somevictor of the race-track than the rough and hardy cayuses of the north.

  And even as he looked and wondered from whence such a pair of creatureshad so unexpectedly come, the horse gave a terrified snort, threw upits head, and recoiled back upon its haunches. The cause of thisfright was at once apparent, for around a huge boulder a large hear hadsuddenly made its appearance. Reynolds saw at a glance that it was agrizzly, the most formidable animal of the north, and the terror of thetrails. Although greatly startled at meeting the horse and its rider,the bear had no idea of retreating. They were blocking his lordlyadvance and it made him angry. Its coarse savage growl sawed the airas it moved menacingly forward.

  All this Reynolds noted as he kneeled upon the ground, firmly clutchinghis rifle with both hands. Beads of perspiration stood out upon hisforehead as he watched the scene across the deep gulch. The horse wasrearing wildly, and backing slowly up the trail. There was no room toturn around, so with remarkable coolness and self-control the fairrider was keeping him pressed close to the bank and face to face withthe on-coming grizzly. At any instant the horse might disregard theguiding hand as well as the friendly words of encouragement, and in madterror attempt to swerve suddenly around, and thus hurl itself andrider into the yawning abyss below.

  All this passed through Reynolds' mind with lightning rapidity, and herealised that there was not a moment to lose. The bear was advancingmore rapidly now, and in a twinkling he might hurl his full weight ofeight hundred pounds of compact flesh, bone and muscle upon horse andrider. But ere it could do this, Reynolds brought the rifle to hisshoulder, took a quick, steady aim, and fired. The bullet sped trueand pierce
d the bear's body just back of its powerful right shoulder.The great brute stopped dead in its tracks. It swayed for an instant,and then with a roar that drove the recoiling horse almost frantic withterror, it leaped sideways and plunged down the precipice, carryingwith it a small avalanche of rocks, earth, and rattling stones.

  Reynolds watched the bear until it had plowed its way to the ravinebelow, where it remained a confused and motionless heap. Then a smileof satisfaction over-spread his face as he lowered his rifle and liftedhis eyes to the trail above. The girl had the horse under control now,and was urging him slowly down the narrow way. But the animal's fearwas most apparent, for he was advancing very timidly, his whole bodyquivering with excitement. The fair rider, however, seemed perfectlyat ease, and not the least disturbed at what had just happened.

  After she had passed the spot where the bear had first appeared, shereined up the horse and looked across to where Reynolds was standingwatching her most intently. Waving her band in friendly salutation,she called aloud:

  "Come on over."

  The young man obeyed with alacrity. He sped down the hill, leapedacross the narrow stream, and hurried up the trail. He was pantingheavily when he reached the girl's side, and the perspiration wasstreaming down his face. She looked at him curiously, and her eyesdanced with merriment.

  "Do you always do that?" she questioned.

  "Do what?" Reynolds asked in reply.

  "Hustle like that at a woman's call?"

  "I never did so before, simply because I never had the chance. This isa new experience to me."

  The girl looked at him steadily for a few seconds. Then she smiled andheld out her hand.

  "I wish to thank you for what you have done for me to-day," she naivelytold him. "I am certain you saved my life. My, that was a great shotyou made!"

  Reynolds took her hand in his, and a thrill of joy swept through hisbody. It was not a soft hand, but brown and firm as if accustomed totoil. Her eyes met his and there was something in her look whicharoused the noblest within him. It was an expression of admiration,almost hero-worship, and confidence. It said to him, "I know I cantrust you, for you are worthy. You are different from most men in thisregion. Why are you up here?"

  "I am glad that I happened to be near," Reynolds replied. "I wasmerely resting and enjoying the scenery when you and the bear appeared.You must be more careful in the future, as I might not be around."

  The girl gave a merry laugh, and brushed back a wayward tress of hairthat had drifted temptingly over her right cheek.

  "I forgot to bring my gun," she explained, "and so the bear had me atits mercy. It is always the way, isn't it? Something is sure tohappen when you are not prepared."

  "And do you always ride alone in such dangerous places?" Reynolds asked.

  "Oh, yes," and again the girl smiled. "Midnight and I know the trailswell, don't we, old boy?" and she affectionately patted the horse'ssleek neck. "But we came farther to-day than usual. But it was worthit, though, just to see that shot you made. Won't daddy be interestedwhen I tell him about it."

  "It was nothing much," Reynolds replied, although the sudden flushwhich mantled his face told Glen that he was pleased at her words ofpraise. "I am used to shooting brutes. In fact, it was my specialwork for several years."

  "Grizzlies?" the girl queried.

  "Worse than grizzlies, and far more ugly, crafty, and brutal."

  "My, I never heard of such creatures," and the girl's eyes grew bigwith astonishment.

  "Oh, I guess you have," and Reynolds smiled. "They raise and trainthem in Germany. I met them in France."

  "What! were you over there?" Glen's interest and admiration wereintense now.

  "Yes, almost from the beginning of the war. I was a sharpshooter, yousee, and so had excellent practice."

  "Oh!" It was all the girl said, but it thrilled the young man's verysoul, and when his eyes again met hers a sudden embarrassment came uponhim.

  "Do you live here?" he unexpectedly asked.

  This question aroused Glen, and she at once assumed the defensive. Theexpression in her eyes changed, and she looked apprehensively around.

  "A long way from here," she replied. "I must be off at once."

  "Let me go with you, Miss Weston," Reynolds suggested. "You areunarmed, and may meet another grizzly before you reach home."

  "How do you know who I am?" the girl asked. "You never saw me before,did you?"

  "We travelled up the coast together on the _Northern Light_," Reynoldsexplained. "I was the one who drew the captain's attention to thatcanoe when the fog-bank lifted. You remember that, I suppose."

  "Indeed I do, and too well at that. I wish that the fog had not liftedjust then. Your eyes were too sharp that morning."

  "But the men in the canoe were not sorry, though. They seemed to bemighty glad to be picked up."

  "It is too bad that the fog lifted when it did," and the girl gave adeep sigh.

  "You know the men, then?"

  "Only one, but he is enough."

  "I saw you with him at the dance. I suppose he is the one you mean."

  "Where is he now?" There was a note of sternness in the girl's voice.

  "At Big Draw. Any message I can take to him?"

  The girl's face underwent a marvellous change. It was like the sweepof a cloud over a sunny landscape. She touched Midnight with her whip,and he sprang forward. Down the trail he clattered at a reckless gait,and when he had reached the level below his rider swung him sharplyaround. Then he bounded upward, and when near to where Reynolds wasstanding, Glen pulled him up with a sudden jerk.

  "There is no message," she announced. "Why have you misjudged me? Areall men alike? Thank you for what you did for me to-day. Good-by."

  She again lifted her whip and it was about to fall upon Midnight'sflank when Reynolds stepped forward and laid his right hand upon thehorse's bridle.

  "Forgive me," he pleaded. "I meant nothing. I was merely joking.Perhaps I understand more than you realise. May I accompany you home?It is not safe for you to travel alone, unarmed as you are, in a placelike this."

  "No, no, you must not come," the girl protested. "It is much safer forme than it would be for you. Never cross the Golden Crest. I havewarned you, so remember."

  Again she touched her whip to Midnight, who leaped forward up the steeptrail, pleased to be away from the place where he had received such afright. Only once did the girl look back to wave a friendly hand toReynolds ere a sharp turn in the trail hid her from view.