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Updated: May 20, 2025
But there's bigger things in the world than my feelings, and I'm full wise to them. That boy loves you the same as if you were his father. I've helped to see to that. I and An-ina. You've been through hell for him. You've been through a hell of your own besides. Now you're ready to give your all for him including your life. Do you know what I feel in my fool woman's way?
He was a good and faithful neche. I I wonder what's happened him since. He's not got back, and the others have all deserted me. There's no one here now but An-ina, and my little boy, and," she added bitterly, "What's left of me. Oh, God, will it never end! This pain. This dreadful, dreadful pain."
They scattered in every direction. The boy was in pursuit. Shrieking, laughing, slashing, headlong he ran, nimble as the gophers themselves. It was wide open grassland, and An-ina contented herself with watching from the distance. It was the boy's game. His was the chase. Hers was the simple happiness of witnessing his enjoyment. "Gee!" An-ina started at the sound of the exclamation behind her.
The shelter of woods against the keen north wind made the resting-place possible. Two weeks of struggle, two weeks of tremendous effort left the choice of daylight camping ground a matter of small moment, but just now the bleak ridge had been selected for a definite reason. Steve and An-ina were standing out in the gap, with little Marcel between them.
"Marcel think Uncle Steve all man," she said quickly. "Uncle Mac, oh, yes. Auntie Millie, oh, very good. An-ina. Yes. An-ina help in all things. Uncle Steve? Uncle Steve come bimeby, then all things no matter." "Is that so? Does he feel that way? After two years?" "Marcel think all things for Uncle Steve always. An-ina tell him Uncle Steve come bimeby. Sure come. She tell him all time.
So him go." "And Julyman? And Oolak?" "All gone. All him gone by land of fire. Oh, yes." An-ina sighed. It was her only means of expressing the feelings she could not deny. Marcel's eyes had sobered. He flung off his pea-jacket and possessed himself of An-ina's chair. He sat there with his great hands spread out to the warmth, enduring the sharp cold-aches it inspired.
He shook his head, but his eyes were shining. "I just can't do it, An-ina," he said a little desperately. "I can't leave you here alone. Suppose " An-ina interrupted him with her low, almost voiceless laugh. "An-ina know," she said with a curious gentle derision which was calculated out of her years of study of the youth. "An-ina no good. She not nothing, anyway. Indian man come beat her head.
He knew that the period of peace had nearly run its course, and the elements were swiftly mobilizing for a fresh attack. He was standing in the great gateway considering these things when An-ina came to him. She appeared abruptly over the top of the great snow-drift, which had been driven against the angle of the stockade.
But even in her excited joy the Indian calm remained uppermost. She drew nearer the child, and one of her soft brown hands rested caressingly on his shoulder. "Him not devil-men," she said, in a deep tone of exaltation. "Him Uncle Steve an' all fool 'Sleeper' men. They all come so as An-ina say." Then the smile in her eyes suddenly transformed her, and her joy could no longer be denied.
An-ina always help boy. And boy help Uncle Steve." Steve led the way down. An-ina was waiting with smiling patience. "Setting out a line to the Sleepers' camp?" he said, as they reached the woman's side. An-ina nodded and began to coil the ropes afresh. "It much good," she said. "Bimeby it storm plenty. So. Each day An-ina mak headman hut. When him wake then white man officer go mak big talk.
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