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Updated: May 20, 2025
He knew the deadly exhalations of the weed when growing, or when in an undried state. He also knew that distillation robbed it of its poisonous effect, but for all that, the sickly atmosphere left him with a feeling of nausea. He and An-ina were sitting beyond one of the two wood fires that had been replenished.
I was felling saplings with An-ina in the woods out back. Maybe a woman can't do those things right. Anyway, one fell on me, and it just crushed me to the ground, and held me pinned there. I thought I was dead. But I wasn't. I was only broken. Maybe I'll die here soon. An-ina got me clear and carried me home.
And presently An-ina turned to him. Her eyes were serious, but there was a smile behind her words. "Him say him much big friend for white man," she said, in her broken way. "Him love all white man so as a brother. White man mak plenty good trade with Indian man. It much good. So him big chief plenty friend. Oh, yes." Steve inclined his head seriously. "Tell him that's all right," he said.
It was thrilling with a hope and emotion which her words failed to express. "Yes. I'm back for keeps." Steve's gaze came back to the soft eyes of the woman. "That is, I'm going back to Unaga with the boy. Will An-ina come, too?" "Boss Steve go back Unaga?" A startled light had replaced the softness of the Woman's eyes. Then, after a moment, as no reply was forthcoming, she went on. "Oh, yes.
Say An-ina," he went on, more calmly, and with a light of humour in his eyes, "Don't you dare to laff at me. Don't you dare deny the things I'm saying. I won't stand for it. For all you're my old nurse I'll just pick you up like nothing and throw you to the dogs back in the yard there. And maybe that'll let you see I can do the things I figure to.
The dogs were ready and waiting under Oolak's charge. Inside the store, Steve supported by Julyman and An-ina, and the child Marcel, occupied the well-worn bench beside the stove. He was receiving the farewell words of the old chief, Wanak-aha, who was thankful enough to see the last of the disturber of his winter sleep.
At last An-ina ceased speaking. She turned to Steve who received the net results she had achieved in concrete form. "It much good," she said, without permitting the smallest display of feeling before the watchful eyes of the old chief. "Him say all as An-ina tell boss white man officer. Young men find dead white men all kill up. In great, deep place by big waters. So.
An-ina know. Show him white man officer. Oh, yes. Show him all this folk. Oh, yes. When? Now? Oh, yes. Him not snow. It good. Then sometime An-ina watch. She watch, watch, all time, and when him wake, an' eat, then him white man come an' mak pow-wow. Good?" "Fine." Steve returned all the papers to the drawers in the desk and stood up.
Again An-ina nodded. "Him storm plenty sure," she agreed. "Boss come quick?" "Right away." A moment later An-ina was leading the way up the long slope of the snow-drift, returning over the tracks which her own moccasins had left. The atmosphere of the hut was oppressive. It reeked with the smoke of wood fire. It was nauseating with a dreadful human foulness.
"I'd forgotten," he said, with another laugh that was not free from self-consciousness. "Say," he went on, "I've hit the greatest trail ever a feller struck in this queer darn country. Gee!" He breathed a profound sigh. "It was queer. I was trailing an old bull moose. I followed it days." An-ina was watching him. She beheld the radiant light in his frank eyes.
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