THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN MARTEN.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7417, 31 May 1902, Page 2

THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN MARTEN.

(By ARTHUR J. BEBXKUBfy'^}:.. . Bateese Soo-jr Cloud tfas ..» b^d jpa^ai. V7h>t was more, he stood six leefe twjriai his moccasins^ and earned a. kn3e, H?^» .Mexican^ -»"i If you called. &&* a Half-breed He '^prtttl swgar at.you in thre« difiertait twatfo^, and at tb© «id tell you in excellent fifiglish that he had & mind to wi&f ' •ISecfc^fHfc plumted fcimsetf on. tomjf'fG*na^fen," or FreHoh^Oanadlan, and w&f&& ta have come : from, tie moostfead* ot ti» Abitibi. ■ „ ■ ;■ .^:-.v - A But sonwtfi&ere in Hia -aidcwip Jcfai^ • nttidtfj***aint of Giuppecwa "bioodv -JbqjjfcjH ped otffc in tie tmjffi&irigktbam -ttf^lai black^H^.: It showed is the way b*..coulft entetf out water and game tdtji *h%: no««. : It<also!i>crßpV ««t i»-<the be«iy ISdiMi brightaes^ift£.ii» ey&,yhidi saw thing* r tfc» dull organ of the white man <SaimoM*sp« to i-.-s.ee. ,;, If the bull moose was strong**, of limb, tlie lynx was not one iaß .«©/*»"*• B;g B%teese. So, on iHe whole, . J&J*** grown^into a bit of a braggart, -jamj^jjjjgfiife*' ger^.dfcout the Territories the actofowledged ting of those free traders "wbOßeteft commandments was to get skins aacS .Hate .tfce GreaV Goinpany. : * ; W^' In the olct days, indeed, iaae §i^ vjjijjttpiny had: sell a price en tie Head <w.,;Ba« .teese. But no man had, dared. Am' now 1 that the Great Company had lo«t ii& v grip : and that "vast land of Mystery and $%£*» the far North-west, lay as open tb £H.eJi«« trader as to the Chief .Factor of tfcf>. Ssdson's Bay. Company himself, Bateefce^ . Had fallen on hSTcyon days, and «easdn >^%Masqn skimmed -.with Singly and imperious Hand the cream off a few htihdred thousand iitles o ; f peitry>yielding territory. .^.l In a six l>y twelve wooden box in/3ha "little wooden town of Edmonton, on .the Saskaitehewan, Bateese Had a partner. T3bi« was hampering at times, but neoewtary, as Bateese. was a child as to the ways of buying and selling in the great <6itiei», where dollars. take the place of bl*pkdss, and poundsxand shillings pass in fcettiof tobacco and gunpowder. BateeseYpirtfter was a little Russian Jew named Wifliiiiifo who year by year migrated mysttnously between Edmonton and Europe, and could tell a cross-breed from a silver fox with his eyes shut. He Had a face like a rat and claws like a Hen-Hawk's, but it w«« whispered that he knew tie secret 'of making Russian sable out of muskrat, ArHica may explain just why he kept an ofliofe -in Sp Petersburg and one in Paris, to iay nothing of a place in Green Street, Nets' York, where prolonged and 1 animated powwows were held in four languages over illsmelling and insignificant little bundles of black fur. streaked with silver, and much gold and ensp paper was counted out in piles from time io time^ ? . But about all this Bateese neither knew nor cared, so long as he was free to com* and go as he liked, to drink His spirits .8() per cent alcohol, and to continue imperiously defrauding the untutored trapper aa he had done long before the whistle of tHa fire Horse Had ever echoed down the coulees of Northern Alberta. Bateese Snow Cloud's way of doing business was both odd and interesting. Every winter he went scurrying up under the very shadow of the Circle itself, with: his dogs and bis sleds, regularly and mysterinrslir lnenMyitr-nft Ann tinidiTKr.iin Aa/th tram.

per and hunter before that pelt-burdened gentleman could get down to either Las La Biche or Athabasca Landing. If there was a musk-ox head of exceptional size and beauty, Bateese wa# «ur© to get it. If there was a silver fox that looked particularly pleasing to the eye, Bateese had it. K there chanced to be » wolverine or otter which he in anyway affected, you may bo quite sure it never got past him. Nor was -he ever known to hold back for a handful of powder or a blanket or two. If his red-skinned friend still hesitated^ , he generously gave him of his beautiful French brandy, gave him of it until .there were. soft voices io be heafd ih the ;*ind and' sweet music in the trees, and. the fiill* danced together. If he still held; out Bateese counted over half a dozen of his little Dream Pills — which came 'from the Oriental Coolies 6f the Coast Range — and brought sleep and soft visions after the first sickness had worn away.. So, few indeed .were; the pelts that got down to the Landing without first passing through the critical •fingers <>f Bateese. Hi* bales were "never large, but he knew what he wanted, and got it- ■*'•«■■• From the steel trail of the fire Jiort* right up to the wide snowfields of .tna Arctic Lights, Bateese ■ Snow Cio|d, r : was known and watched for, patiently, -And meekly, by many brakes in,^aany.«ca#efed tribes. But with "all his r palsibh. ; |or barter and trade, mind you, 'Bat^#fe.s(W" not altogether neglect the side i " of life. He always had a iandfjflUf bead* or ■* bit <>f bright ribbpnvf^in* women of a decently behaved tribe^whioh, of course, * meant a tribe willing to «Brit» furs on a basis of 1 per cent of their, market value. It . was folklore at the Landing that Bateese brought a new wife; down with him every spring. What beca»»- ol her he didn't much care, and uauaHy^iidVt know.- There were many tepees fo-^fcne north, and if his heart changed ■wltK-th*-wind, what of it? The woitoen uqs£p)frgot, and the children-Hlidn't tiiiP'.whit* • agent send them all down- to the BBhodl^ where they were taught thread: front ; W»i. as Willinsky himself could dp? And. WilHusky was a very -smart maa ! ' . .'; . But a little cloud came into the life of big Bateese. , Under the shadow oflthat cloud he fretted for two seasons. It grew, indeed, out , of a mere tale that had ttept from poet to post, and bad finally drifted down to the Landing itself. It told df ft golden maiten— of a little furWd ptt^sati of pure gold— that had been seen time and again, up in . the Lake Wapisen dijtfict. Haif-'breed and Indian even, fell intfc-in* habit, of speaking of it as they wodld of Windigoes. It was a tiling to be talkftl of in tradertohes, for from the tip of itafndse to the .end of its tail it was said ; t* b> pt yelloSv gold, like a Klondjke , nugget. When it slipped across a bit df 6pen country, it looked for all the world like^gaich of sunlight on four legs. Yet it . 1 »a*..-j«o shy -no trap had ever snared it.—^Atod though it had been seen many tlisfes, p> buck iMid ever iound the heart t? Jo* a bullet through its hide. It was talked over in the fiir4ofts of fidmentett; it> ,was asked about in. the store-hollies., of Montreal; it Avas marvelled ft.jii «nipk«stained tepees on the Saskatchewan, and in cities many thousands of miles aW»y a price had already been put on it, , a priGe of rubles and francs and pound* sterling, even while it still went free a* the wind and frisked like a patch 6i sunlight across the snows of the Great .Muskeg Country. ■> Willinsky said nothing, but waited. Hs had great faith in Bateese. Bataese «iso said nothing, and 1 also waited. They iin« der stood each other. Then news came down that the wonderful golden marten had_»* last been caught. Babbit Ear, a young buck of the Yellow Knives, had t»me upon it feeding under an open waterfall He had put a bullet through its leg, and t&u foV lowed it for a> week over the snow. W»* it came into his hands fee- ■ had beett^MfH* days without food. Sa irreTettiitiy ifci»ned the little animal on tke *pot z ud da*

▼onred the carcase, accordingly, without ■alt or fire, for his last few miles had been covered on his hands and knees, and it was not a time to be over-nice. When the news of that capture crept down to Edmonton Bateese smote the table with his huge fist, and over the last of his bottle of French brandy swore before hia •heterogeneous gods that this skin of golden marten should be his. And little Wil linsky rubbed his hands together gloatingly, and said of course it would. He had great faith in Bateeser - But there was one difficulty. Long be fore even Bateese had sat himself down in the lodges of the Yellow Knives, young 'Babbit- Ear had been! offered no less than ten blankets and a gun for his precious golden pelt. At alk these he had stolidly shaken his head. Then the blankets had been doubled, and three.pounds of powder put beside the gun. But still Babbit Ear had shaken his head. The reason for it all* was the fact that young Rabbit Ear's heart was i» the keeping of a lady named Sweet Grass, the daughter of CaY the -Medicine Man. > With that pile of blankets' still before him, he had solemnly car-. - ried his pelt and placed it at the feet of Cat's daughter, that she might wear it, ; s2d her children, and her children's chpten, so that for all time it should remain with the tribe of the Yellow Knives. Bateese laughed softly to himself when - ne heard the story of this rfrom old Father ". Paradii, the Jesuit, just 'down- from Fort Consolation. ■ ■ • ■ I'M t'ink I bring heem bad; "with me, dat " drinP he said, through, his blue , pipi» smoke. ) ■ ..; ; ■ ■.; • ; - And six weeks later Bateese ww swing« i ing up through the shows, of the GreatiLonß, Land with bis dogs and his sleds, brooding that golden marten, saying, to himself .beside 'bis> little' camp-nres that it ■would make a fine piece for the topping ■ off of his bale. • > " : Arid never did fire-water flow, so gene*^ outly among the Yellow Knives, and never had Cat, the Medicine Man, found himself possessed of so much tobacco, and . never before had Sweet Grass seen a brighter red blanket than that flung at her little - ' mpecasined feet by the' huge ' and gallant Bateese. The tall trader from .the land j of :V; .the fire-horse smoked many c jjijtfa in Cat's Jtodjge. • (But from Cat he , ootdd learn notihiiig of the golden marten. • It was from one of IJhe old squaws, to wihom ' lie give many Dream PiHs, for tooth*ch«, tfliat h« -got the cafonnation he re» * '^nxred.' > ■ ' ■■■■ "•■.'.■ y ~ '/ . _ ': AH that (had been said of tihe golden mar;tein"'; waß true. 'No sudh fur Iliad ever' been Men in tlhe North. It. was like "«uniliga* ■■■ ron : -yellow maple leave», . brighter iKhan .tihr •■ •calp '(her own father ibad taken' from the r bead of the young EngHshnronian, tnaoy, .-.many years ago, in tihe buffalo days. V? Where is this skin?" Bateese asked, oarekstly, of the old equanr. : He imd heard these "tales of snow-white wapiti and ffoMen-horned moose and anountadaouß-like buffalo, but the -would believe none of; them tiH ie saw with his own eyes. . ■■■- "Huish, Bateese I" cried *hjB : oH woman \ "for it is the pride of our people ! Sweet; Bra«fl -wears it -wound aibout 'her breast for ' iafe-keepmg, bound there -with threads- of . Vuofcilkin. And Oat has put a curse on ihe.atan who, shall take it from her 1" "Good," «aid Bateese, 'knocking out Ids / pip*- " "Es oot for these outlaaMfish freai tilings that "the -white man -wastes good ilankfttc." The next day he went from lodge to £odge £ adrang f or eilvex fox and •It waa not until he found Sweet Gretas •lone, vcuttinc nwat from. a. bear carcase, ttie* me > exercised hw long-practised arts of gjaJkntay on that «omenphat overawed girl. " He swore she hatd the grace of the "dove. He discovered that her eyes were like rip» ' blacldberries. He maintained that she walked with' the tread of a young caribou, and that her voice was sweeten than maplesap ; and many other such .things, for, even ; under, the shadow of the Circle, 'Bateese knew a •woman was still a -woman. Then be found a haodlfirl or two of coloured beads for her and a yard of crimson ribhoa and a gold-plated' ring or two. But .. for ail this, at the -first mention of the ffoMen i^arteh i&e ecurried away from him, like a frightened) .rabbit, and hid in one of the lodges. He made other attempts, it is true, but each time she eluded him And the once all-conquering Bateese began to see that the goMen marten wa« not for his bale that season. He did not .giye up : but he wondered grimly just how Wiltiiisky would take it- < • When he ; made his way back to tihe Landing empty-handed he had, perhaps, lost' a little of his old-time swagger. In IRdtoonton he talked less over his brandy. WrUinsky, as he expected, was there await ■ng Ibiin. And as he aiteo expected, WilJinsky daawjed with nugewhen he knew the truth. He cursed Bateese with strange Russian curses, and from 'Edmonton tliat day the telegraiph ticked the news that the golden marten had not been found, and fioon <New York it was flashed on to Lon- ' don-, and from London still: on to Paris Bateese, over his second bottle of French * brandy, wagged his head sullenly. He said it -was] best to wait. But Wiliinsky 'jww eight -thousand francs slipping out- of his fingers, and again he cursed 'Bateese .- to his face, in Russian, as a psg-headedhalf r . breed and a : follower of women. '. ■ . - To this Bateese merely ehook his head .. Jrunkenily, and said "Waitl" Ifc r was in the sub-Arctic twilight of midwinter that the huge, tracking shoes of ijateesa Smow Cloud once. more broke their lonely £rail up through the su,b-Arctic wilderness. But -when Bateese again 4wung' 1 his lead-weighted dog- whip among the moose-hide lodges of the \elow Knives tribe, he wa« a changed man. : His : jaw ' setl^hter, and the Indian Readiness of his • eye was brighter. He had, however; a .• gc«at deal of tobacco for Cat, the old Madi- - Vfn« Man. He also had. a chain of silver and anfour-point blanket and six ounces of • beads for Sweet Grass, .to say ; nothing of arVpur' of, plated earriags— cosjaflg WiHintikj ■ three, dollars a gross in New York—rand a ". earing of ..brass sleigh-bells, -whiqh the girl .;- bung proudly, about her fftill slim enough . waist. Bateese seemed 'surprised there -weJwjonly women and children and : aid men Ml!!? lodges, and even moire, surprised tw^^abbit 'E^r and the other young bucks, should be already scattered many weeks to tfce'ifForth for. ■a&season's. peltries, " But with Sweet Grass' he waif lo,wly of speech and sad. Her 'beauty had sent an atorow into his aching heart., She was not 'made .for the carrying of firewood and the icraipiing of hides. He himted how women • - jßted beyond the - Athabasca, ' where there ■Were no snowshoes to be stxning, where there was no smoke in the tepees^ and no snows in the doorway. Her. voice -had . loSowed him for ayear. ■ „ . It all ended as he meant it to end. Her "-poor -little pagan head was turned, and one night she crept tor ham' while her people ' ftept/ and whispered that she would fol- >. low him to the end of the world. Bateese laughed where he lay, and decided' to irimfo no ; tkoe. In the depth of thai blue midwinter night, while the Lights were - flaming and wavering on the 'dark horizon beyond the Circle, the two of them stole ' «way. Alone they went, pushing feverishly down through the snows to the country wbfc/6 Sweet Grass believed there was no -flfeoke in the lodges. '' Onoe well clear of her people Bateese tumid to her and lightly asked if eh'e still wore the golden marten. She laughed softly, and ; put her hand to where it lay Wfcrm on her breast. He demanded ai sight «f it. Sweet Grass looked at him frightened, and drew away. He followed her, - >>* caught her playfully in h^s arms. He wits breathing heavily, and his jaw was set wickedly. With his hand he tried to tear it from her bosom, where it was laced . tightly with cords of buckskin. Then for the first time she understood what he meant, or 1 half understood. She fought «gain«t him like a cat, and struggled till •be bioka away from him. He let her go, and showed her how merrily he could laugh. He had been taught to wait. " Listen while I speak, Snow Cloud," she ■aid to him that night over their fire. " I have loved you, and the sound of your voice has been sweet in my ear. But my i«tb#r« Gat, has already told how the child

of woman who takes this skin shall come upon evil days !" "And what of that?" laughed Bateese. "I have loved you, Snow Cloud, and I would save, you from this evil, even though I tear this skin from my breast and ihrow I it into the fire i" Bateese stood discreetly between her and the flame; bub said nothing. He was willing to wait his time. "Bah ! 'Tis nothing to me, little Snow Bird!" he cried gaily. " For it is . a faith of our people," Bhe went en, "that the North is stern and just, and to him who does evil he brings j evil in return*. "; x Again Bateese laughed, but in that laugh was something which' troubled Sweet Grass. Over their -fire she thought it out, j and while he slept that night she stole away from him, and turned back to her own people. With no woman to, feed his fire Bateese i woke early, chilled with the cold. . When j he saw that Sweet Grass had fled from j him he beat his hands together and swore j with rage, and started after her on foot, without sleigh or dog It was a race, he knew, that he dare not lose. The first day passed and -he caught no dght of her. The second day came, and still he had not come up with her. Yet still he raced on, a savage hunter, pressing ever closer and closer on her trail. He was ready to fall with exhaustion at &mes, but he knew tiere must be no giving up. At last, in a stretch., of rolling country, he caught eight of -her from the crest of an ice hummock. And still he raced on, slinking from hill to (bill. When he came nearer he crouched low in his track* and sought the shadow of every brush-clump. In that -fray he stalked her, as a wild animal might. Foot after foot he crept upon her, while^she still staggered forward, now weak and reeling with hunger. He was upon her, akwsi before she knew it- At the first sight of his figure beside her in the snow she took him for a timber wolf, and screamed with terror. ■ Then-he sprang at her and seteed her, while she fell weakly into his arms with, a little sobbing xry. He held her there 'fiercely, ■ and she leaned on him, panting and promising. to go back with him, aid trying to tell him that it was all for bis own good, that the evil charm of her father, Cat, might not come upon him. " , He held her ciese white she spoke, his bear-like arm crushing., her weak body. With bis free hand ha slipped out his hunting knife. Withoutl word or sign he slashed it savagely across her throat, and Bhe fell at his feet in the snowl, with her startled eyes .still on his face. ' He turned her over, on.. her side, so that the. bj.£od might not stain the pelt in her boson*. "Listen, Snow Cloud," she gasped; cwith the last strength of her body. "I have loved you well. But Cat, my father, has said it And it will come true. The evil you have done— will be done unto you. It is the faith of the North. Before it is too late, go— " ...... The words died on her lips, and her head fell back in the drift. Bateese laughed ..uneasily, and once more turned the body over where it lay still warm. Then. with his knife he, cut the cords of buckskin, arid with shaking fingers drew the pelt of golden marten from her bosom and laid it out before his eyes on the white drift. He looked down at it many ' minutes . and laughed over it like a child. For it shone and gleamed on the whiteness like a fleck of sunlight. It was brighter than the gold coins Wiliinsky flung outifor his sweettasting fire-water far off in> Edmonton. It was worth two years of waiting. Bateese himself, looking down at it, wished he was in-jfidmonton. He had seen too much of the white man's worid* not to have most of his Indian superstition knock, ed out of him. But as he carefully tied up the 'skin the .last words of the girl ran disagreeably through his head. The more ne brooded, over tuem the more uneasy he became, till he shook the silly fear niia only with an elf ort. It simply jpeant tnat he would have to be careiul. He would be a brother to the coyote, until out ot her country at least. *"~": V With this in mind he slunk away from any suspicion of an open trail. At the sight of a chance Indian he circled into the Drusliwood tor miles. If & settlement lay in his path, he crept round it by nigtu, like a hunted animal! Tnrougn tne open &nows he broke his own trau, but wita. Dut one thougiit in his head. The thought was to press on, on, till the Lights, and the silence and the aching wastes ol' whiteness were left behind. It was on the tnird day that the snow ulindnesa came: over him. Even as it came ne knew what it meant, fiewa* a strong man, but he wept like a woman, and. beat Himself with, nmmjah iury. Then a sort of madness came after it, and he raced' and nounaered insanely onward, only 10 stumble and lail again and again. He groped madly irom hill to Ml, cycling helplessly about in his own f ooteteps, crawiuig,inipoiwntil.y from hammock co humanbek,; witn ' but one lever in his oiood, and that was a- passion to press on |and on till -the sound of the Cree voices came, to his ear, or the smell of Cree lodge smoke to his nostrils. As. he stumbled and groped drunkenly past little chistexs of moose-hide loages, angering ibis blind' way along the' coulee "bottoms, strange silent figutea wrapped, in blankets came and stood on the Hilltops, and watched. Women and children and dd men. They crept out of the smokestained tepees and stood motionlesSj watching. . I'he toothless father of Babbit Ear came among them, and seeh^ the mam in the valley below, crept . silently back to' his lodge.. With a palsied hand he trained his rifle on the heart of the blind man, but Cat, the Medicine Man, waved the thing away. " The 'North is stem and just, my people. And unto himi who does evil shall evil in turnbel done I This is the faith of ike North. i So let us wait, my people 1" And they : waited. And still the man staggered blindly on through the snows. They followed him as he went, moving, silently from hilltop to hilltop, still waitings wrapped in their blankets. But to the blind man all that world was a world of silence and desolation and snow. • In a rage he ground his great jews and fought on, while the , things in blankets still watohed from the hilltops. - Suddenly down the blue line of the further hills they «aw a shadow slink after the man. They said nothing, but e-s it drew closer they sum clearly what it was. To the blind man the world was stiM a world of desolation and emptiness. The people -watching, in tfieir blankets knew that moving shadow was toe gi*y timnber wolf, driven down from the mountains- with hunger. Step "by step it stalked the blind man, creeping closer and closer, tUI a touch of blood not of white men told him of that Something creeping and slinking upqphim. He knew that he was followed, was being stalked. Round and round in a mad circle he ruehed and staggered am 4 floundered, while -the silent things wrapped in blankets still watched. The snarling, restless shadow crept still closer to the helpless anon. The smell of the Brute even came to ids nostrils, it slunk so close in his steps, and he raised up his hands ami screamed again and again with, terror, like a woman. "It is good!" sadd Cat, the Medicine Man, watching on tine hilltop. • The crWhing shadow then seemed of a sudden ro float up through tfoe air, and as .it we with one dean sweep of its fangs it to en the throat of the blind man from shoulder-blade to phin. Almost as clean as the sweep of a knife-blade it tore the flesh, just as Snow Cloud hamseK had /torn the copper neck of Sweet Grass, the daughter of Cat, the Medicine Man. One by one the women and children and old men who watched from the' hilltops went back to their lodges la silence They knew it was even as Cat had said, that the North had been stern and just since tie Lights first flamed over the Circle.

Toirrist: "Fine morning, Sandy. What's the day going. to be?" Sandy: "Weel, Pm thinkin' itfjl maybe rain." Tonrwt: "But the barometer: is rising, Sandy." Sandy.: "Aye, but it's veirfr little heed the weather faereafcoute &y* ta the btst^tX'