A MATING IN THE WILDS

Star (Christchurch), Issue 19815, 5 December 1919, Page 4

A MATING IN THE WILDS

* *** * ■Hr •& * (By OTTTELI, RINKS.) * * * * *

{.'HABT.IvI! il. —Continued. Stanc caught the c|uosiion, hut tho answer he did not, hear, Humph he could guess its purport- audwTuund no pleasure at llie I bought ()!’ M'hat il would j hr. ('onsumcd with wrath and shanio hr mciu, his way to his own camp, and seeking relief, from intolerable thoughts busted himself with preparations for a start, ou the morrow, then schooled himself to wait as host ho could, through the long hours before Ainley’* appointed time. Aga.lll the midnight sun found hint silting hrliin 1 his smoke-smudge, waiting, listening. All the songs and cries of the wild faded into silence and still Ain ley had not come, Thou he. caught, the sound of light- feed, running, and looking up he saw Miskodeed hurrying towards him between the willows. Wondering what- had brought her forth ai. this hour ho started to Ids feet- and in that uistanl- he saw a, swift look of apprehension and agony leap to her face. “ Beware, my brother ” He heard no more. A man rose like n shadow by his side, with lifted hand holding an axe-shaft. Before he could move or ery out the shaft descended ou his uncovered head ami he dropped- like a, man suddenly stricken dead. When he came to himself the rosy Northland night had given place, to rosier dawn, and he found that lie was; lying hound hand and toot at the. bottom id a. Beterhoro’ eanoe. There Mere three Indians in the canoe, one of whom lie recognised ter Miskodced’s father, and after lying for a fnv minutes wondering what, was the meaning of the situation in which ho found himself he addressed himself Id tin- Indian. # “ What Js the meaning of this?” 'Che Indian stared at, him like a graven image, but vouchsafed no reply. St ano lay there wondering if it had anything to do with Aliskodoed, and finally, recalling the girl’s dramatic appearance at the very moment when he had been stricken down, decided that it had. ‘' What are you going to do with mo?” ho inquired after an interval. “ Nothing,'’ replied the. Indian. ‘‘ At tho end of tire days thou wilt ho set free, and the canoe follows behind.” “ But why--—” “It, is an order,” said the Indian gravely, and beyond that St.aiie could io-un nothing, though he tried repeatedly .in the five days that followed. At, tho ehd of tho fifth day they pitched camp as usual, at the evening meal, and lay d' tvn to sleep. Static tied hand and font muli buckskin thongs. In tho morniii". when ho awoke, he was alone and his limbs nero free'. .Scarce believing the. loots ho sat up and looked around him. Unquestionably his captors had gone, 'taking the Beterhoro’ with them, but leaving hi; own canon hauled up on the bank. Still, overcome with astonishment he. ruse to his feet and inspected the contents of the canoe. All the stores that ho had purchased at tho Best were there intact, with his rifle, Ins little tent, and camp .utensils. So far as h© could tell, not a single aricle was missing. What on earth wa-i tlm meaning of it all. “ Aliskedml !” As he spoke the. name the possibility that his iiequaHutauee with the girl had been misunderstood by her relations shot into hisi mind. But in. that case why had they dealt with him after this fashion? Then again he seemed to hear tho Indian speaking. “It is an outer!” “ Whose order? 1 ’ As his mind asked flu* question, he visioned Gerald Ainley, and was suddenly conscious of a great anger. Was it, possible that ho ? He broke off the question in his mind without limshuig it; but lifted his clenched hand and shook it before the silent wilderness. His attitude was full of dumb menace, and left in no doubt, his belief os io who -was tho author of tho event that had befallen Imn. CHAPTIiK- HI. -Mr Gerald Ainley standing in Tho meadow outside, the .Bust, looked towards the river bank with smiling eyes. Where .Hubert Shine's little tent had been the willows now showed an unbroken line, and he found that, fact a. source uf satisfaction. Then between the willows lie caught sight of a moving figure, and after one glance at it, began in Imj-iy forward. A moment later the figure c nn/iged from the willows and stood on the edge of the meadow, rc\en!mg its identity as that of the JUnglish with whom he had walked on the previous day. 'Without observing i him the girl turned round and began to walk towards the Indian encampment and Ainley immediately altered Ins conrsu. walking quickly so ,-m m ini creep I. her. He- joined her about a, score of paces from the touts and smilingly dotted his cap. “Good morning, .Miss Yardclv. You arc astir early!” Helen Vardoly laughed lightly. “It as impossible, io do anything else in this coinll ry, where it is daylight all tho lime, mid birds are erring half t, night. Besides we are lo make a, start after breakfast. “ Yes, I know, I am going with von.” “ ton are going with ns, .Mr Ain- • Mkto w:is ;i, little no to. of snrprise in tim girl's tones. "My uiuilc ha - not- mentioned |t !” Ni>! It. Mas only finally decided last night; though from tho beginning of the excursion il has been contemnla.ted. dir James is making notes of his journey which 1 am to supplement, f belie;o lie. has an idea of bringing out. a, hook describing t.he journey! 1 '* “Which yon are to write, J suppose?” laughed the girl, “Well, countered the, man also laughing. “ 1 am to art as amanuensis. And niter all you know I am in the service of I ho. company, whose fortunes Sir James direct.;.” “Ho may direct them,” answered the girl lightly, ‘'hut it. is other men who carry them the men of the wilds who bring the furs to the posts, anti the traders who live in isolation from years end to years end. You must not tako iiiv uncle, quite so seriously jas he. takes jiimself, .Mr Ainley.'’ •*’ Gerald Ainley smiled, “ You forget .Miss Yardely he can make or break a. man who is in tho company's service.'' “ Perhaps!’’ laughed the girl. “Though if I were a Tuan 1 should not sn easily he made or broken by .-m----i other. I should make myself and see j that none broke- me.” She paused as if waiting for an answer, then as her companion continued silent, abruptly clmngevl the. topic. “By tlm. by, j see that yum acquaintance of other days has removed himself!” “Ye?." answered Auilcr. “I policed. that-” " Ho must have gone in the night.” “ Yes," was the, reply. “ f suppose he folded'his lent like the Arabs and as silently stele a.wny,” “ I daresay the meeting with an old acquaintance was distasteful to him.” “That is possible," answered Ainley. “ W’hen a man has deliberately buried himself in this wild land ho will ha.i\ilv wislr to he resurrected.” “ And yet ho did not- appear to avoid you yesterdayP” said the girl thoughtfully. ’"A momentary impulse., I suppose," replied her companion easily. “ I daresay he thought, I and jxu'gcd, tlm DasLJ*-

“And you couldn’t I'” “AYcll, scarcely. One (iocs not fraternise with ;jaol-hinds even for old time's sake.” The.y had now arrived at the topees and ns they halted, the flap of one was thrown aside, and Miskodeed emergedShe did not see them, as the moment slip stepped into the open air, her eyes turned to wants the willows where Sbane’s camp had been. A look of sadness clouded the wild beauty of her face,, and there was a poignant light in her eyes. “Ah!” whispered Helen YardelyShe knows that he has gone.” 11 Perhaps it is just, as well for hen that ho has.” answered Ainle.v carelessly. “’J.hose marriages of the. country are not always happy—for the woman." .Miskoileed caught the. sound of his voice, and, ..turning suddenly, became aware of their presence. In ap im stant ii swilt change came over her face. Its sadness vanished instantly, and as her eyes flashing fiercely "fixed themselves upon Ainley, a look of scorn came on her face intensifying its bizarre, beauty. She took a step forward an if she would speak to the. white man, then apparently changed her mind, and swinging abruptly on her heel, re-en-tered the tent. Helen Yardely glanced swiftly at her companion, and surprise!l n look of something veivjfc like eonVernation in his eyes. "That was very ((ucer!” she said quickly. ‘‘A\ha,t tva.fi very queer?" asked Ainley. "That girl's action. Did yon see how she looked at. you? Rhe g«>h.ivg to speak to yon and changed hf-.r mind.” Ainley laughed r trifle uneasily. “ Possibly she blames me for the disappearance of her lover!’’ ‘‘But why should she do that? She can hardly know of your previous acquaintance with him.” Von forget -she. saw him speak to me yesterday 1” “ Ah. yes,” was the gill's reply. " 1 had forgotten that.” The notes of a bugle, clear and silvery in the still air, floated across tho meadow at. that moment, and Herald Ainley laughed. “Tlie breakfast hell! Vie must hurry, .Biss Yardely. It will scarcely do to keep your uncle, waiting.” Thev turned arm hurried hank to the Post, nothing more lacing .said in reference to Miskodecd and Hubert Sta.ne- And an hour later, in the hustle of the departure, the whole matter was brushed aside by Helen ''lankly. though now and again through tho day, it recurred to her mind as a. rather unpleasant episode: she found herself wondering how so line a, mart a? Stane could stoop to tho lolly of which many men in the Month wore guilty. At the end of that day her nnck ordered the camp to he pitched on r. little meadow hacked by a sombre forest of spruce. And after tho evening meal, in company with Gerald Ainley, she walked towards the. timber whore an owl was hooting dismally. The air Wits perfectly still, the sky above- crystal clear, and the. Northern horizon tilled with a golden glow. As they reached the. shallow ot the spruce, and seated themselves on a 1 alien trunk, a fox harked somewhere in the recess of idle wood, and from afar came the longdrawn melancholy howl of a woil. Helen Yardely looked down the long rouph of the river, and her eyes lixec', themselves on a tall bluff crowned with spruce, distant perhaps a mile, and n half away. “ I like tho ’Wild.”, she said suddenly. breaking tho silence that had been .between therm “If. is all right,” laughed Ainlcv, “ when yon can journey through it comfortably as ire. are doing.” “ It must have its attractions even when comfort is not possible.” said the girl musingly, “ for tho men who live here live as nature meant man tolivn” “On straight moose-meat—some-times,” laughed Ainley. 11 AVith bacon and beans and flour brought in from the outside for luxuries.” “ I was not thinking of the food.” answered tho girl quickly, “ 1 was: thinking of tho toil, tho hardship—the Homeric labours of those who face the hazards of the. North.” “ Yes," agreed the man, “tho labours .Vo certainly Homeric, and there are men who like the life well enough, who have made fortunes here and have gone hack to their kind in Montreal. New York, London. only 1o find that eiv-vJ-isation has lost its attraction for thorn-” “T can understand that, was the quick reply. “There is something in the silence mid wildness oi vast spaces which gets into the blood. Onlv yesterday 1 was thinking how small and tame Iho lawns at home would look after this.” She swept a hand in a half-circle, and then gave a little laugh. “ I believe I could enjoy living up here.” Ainley hcdii-d wiib her. “A year cf Hus.” ho said lightly, “and you would begin to hunger for parties and the. litres and dances and books-and yon would look to the iSonlbland ns to Ifiden.” “Ho yon really think so?” she asked seriously. “ I am sure of it.” he answered with conviction “ Hut 1 am not so -sure.” she 'answered slowly. ‘ “ Deep down there must he .something aboriginal in mo, for I. find myself thrilling to all sorts of wild things. Lust night f was talking with .Mrs Hudwell. Her husband used to l-.e the trader up at. Knotlaeh. and she was lolling me of a while man who lived up there as a chief. Ho was a, man of education, a graduate of Oxford, and he preferred that life lo ilm life of civilisation. It seems ho died, and was buried as a eliief. wrapped in furs, a hunting spear by his side, all the tribe ehanling a wild funeral chant* Do yon know, as she described in, the dark woods, (he harharie burying. Hie wild chant, 1 was able to vision ii 'all and my sympathies were with the man who. in spite of Oxford, had chosen ; u live Ids own life in his own way.” A. in ley laughed. “A on see it in the giamenr of romance." lie ‘■aid, “Tim rcaliiv I imagine was pretty Imasll.v." “Weill ' replied the girl qnicklv, “what would lile he without romance?’’ ”•1 dull thing,'' answered Ainlev. promptly, with n sudden flash of the eyes. “I’ am with yon there. Ale-. Yardely. hut romance dees not lie in mere- barbarism, for most men it is incarnated in a woman.” Possibly! 1 suppose the mating instinct is (he oim elemental thing left j n the modern world.” “ It is the mie dominant thing,” answered Ainle.v, with such emphasis .of ennvietion that the girl looked at him in qitiek surprise. “Why, Air Ainle.v. one Would think i.hat yon -that yon " she hesitated. tumbled in her speech, and did mp finish the sentence. Her companion had risen suddenly to his feet. The monocle had fallen from its phme. and In- was hmkimv down aI. her with eyes that had a strange glider"Aes.” he cried, answering her unfinished utterance. “Yes!! I ’,; O know. That is what yon would say. is it milt I have known since the day Sir James sent, me to the station at Ottawa to. meet yon. The knowledge was horn in me as I saw yon stepoing from Ihe eai. The one woman mv heart whispered it in dial moment, and has shouted u ever since. Helen, I did not mean ki speak yet, hul well, yon see hmr it is with me! Tell me it is not altogether hopeless! Yon know what my position is; von know that in two years- ” Helen A ardelv rose swiftly to per (ret. tier beautiful fare hail paled a little, Rim stopped the flood <i l word' with her lifted hand. " Please. Air Ainley! There is no need to enter on such details.” Then ” “Ann hare taken-me by surprise,'’ ‘mid Ihe girl slowly. “1 Inn] no idea that, yon that you -1 have never thought of it.” (To he continued.)