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It takes a roundabout course to say anything of an abstract nature in Cree. Finally Garth heard the ominous name of Mary Co-que-wasa enter into their discourse. "What is it?" he demanded impatiently. Ancose turned a long face to him. "Bad medicine here," he said. "Bishop send ol' Pierre Toma down from head of rapids with him team to get you," he went on, struggling manfully with his English.
"Who is Mary Co-que-wasa?" he asked, recollecting his previous uneasiness. It appeared they could understand English well enough when they had a mind to. The women visibly bridled, as women white or red will do, when an erring ewe of the flock is mentioned in company. "Mary Co-que-wasa one bad woman," said one, with the toneless enunciation of a parrot.
Her face, like that of all the natives in the presence of whites, expressed a blank, in her case a mysterious blank. She was silent and ubiquitous; whichever way they looked, there she was. Captain Jack had mentioned to Garth that her name was Mary Co-que-wasa. The off-hand shrug that accompanied the information, between men, was significant. Garth resented it; and his sympathies were enlisted.
When we got down near the water suddenly we saw old Mary Co-que-wasa come climbing over a heap of stones that was piled on the flat; and she was bent almost double, half lifting, half dragging a man by a rope under his arms. It was Nick Grylls. He looked dead. "We shouted at her; and she looked up just once. I saw her face plain. It wasn't surprised or glad or anything just stupid like a breed.
The breed sprang to his feet with a cry of warning. It was the last sound, save one, that he ever made. The sharp, light bark of Garth's rifle reverberated in the gorge; the breed spun around with a throaty, quenched cry, toppled over backward into deep water, and was swept away. Before Garth could aim again, Mary Co-que-wasa seized her pail of water, and flung it hissing on the fire.
Bam-by I t'ink they come together." "What horse was she on?" Garth demanded. "Nick Grylls's big roan," she answered. "They mak' a bag for her to sit in. She sit one side; Mary Co-que-wasa sit the other." "Find the roan's tracks," ordered Garth. Rina shook her head. "I never follow that horse," she said. "Find the heaviest tracks then!"
Mary Co-que-wasa, her go down and watch your house all the time, for good chance to tak' her. When you go out she mak' little fire under the bank for signal; and Nick Grylls and 'Erbe't and Xavier, them all go down. They not tak' me." Garth cursed himself to think how he had played directly into their hands. "I wait, and bam-by they bring her back," continued Rina in her toneless voice.
Another volunteered further information in Cree, in which the names of Mary and Nick Grylls were coupled. "What's that?" demanded the startled Garth. "Mary Co-que-wasa Nick Grylls's woman," said his first informant. That was all he could get out of them. It did not conduce to the ease of his first bed in the wilderness.
So soft was the arrival of the last that Garth was not aware of it, until he happened to catch sight of Mary Co-que-wasa deep in a whispered consultation with the paddler. Finding Garth's eyes upon her, Mary, with a hasty word to the boy, embarked, and the canoe's nose was turned up-stream. As a possible means of transport later, Garth called after the boy; but he only paddled the faster.
Mabyn's back was turned to Garth; his attitude was furtive; and apparently he spoke little. Garth did not trouble about him; for he knew instinctively that so long as the stronger man was by, Natalie stood in no danger from Mabyn. Mary Co-que-wasa, serving the food, hovered behind the fire, which threw a strange, exaggerated shadow of her hag-like form on the cliff.
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