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Updated: June 12, 2025
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.
Reaching Grylls's body, she unwound a woollen scarf from about her waist; and passing it under his shoulders, partly hoisted his great bulk on her back with an incredible effort; and started down again. Grylls was quite dead; his heels thudded limply from stone to stone. Long before she reached the bottom, Garth lost interest in her progress. He had fainted.
Grylls struggled for his breath in loud, strangling sobs; and Garth could hear his bursting heart knock at his ribs. The smith's arms of him little by little softened of their steely strength; he strove in vain now to lift Garth off his feet. Garth, cool and strong again, and always waiting, let him tire himself.
When the horses were hitched, Xavier went into the bunkhouse for his master's bedding, old Paul pottered around the harness, while Albert, Nell's companion, strolled back to join Grylls. "What do you make of this young couple?" asked Nick, assuming an indifferent air. "I dunno," Albert returned lethargically.
He maintained his place with his back against the stern, a piece of tarpaulin across his knees to keep his gun dry, and his eyes bent forward in the boat whence any move must be made on him. So sure was he that Grylls would attack him, he was scarcely conscious of the tumult that roared about his ears. The wind tore his hat off; and the cold rain drenched him to the skin.
There's money in that; and it's a pleasant life for a man plenty of company. And when I get a little money ahead, I'll trade; there's good chances for a free trader that knows the ropes; and in a few years I'll branch out and have a whole string of trading posts, like Nick Grylls. There's a smart one! They say he could sell out for a hundred thousand any day!"
Garth was reminded of his own hopeful, spouting youth. "I hope you won't be like Nick Grylls," said Natalie gently. "Don't you like him?" asked Charley in concern. "I always thought he was a pretty smart one. No!" he added suddenly. "I don't like him either. He's coarse!" Supper was an affair of joint contributions; Garth's jam for Charley's bread.
"I tell you it ain't often Nick Grylls travels by the stage," continued Smiley, addressing the bystanders impressively. "He hires a rig and a team and a driver to take him to the Landing, he does." "Who is this Mr. Grylls?" asked Garth, pursuing the reporter's instinct. "Don't know Nick Grylls!" exclaimed old Paul, exchanging a wondering glance around the circle. "You must be a stranger!
A slab of rose-pink Corsican granite covers her, and is inscribed with the words, "Orate pro anima Emiliae, Corsicorum Reginae," the date of her death, and beneath it a verse which I took to be from the Vulgate until Parson Grylls quarrelled with Dom Basilio over it
She obediently wheeled her horse; and searched the turf again; riding around them in wide fanlike sweeps, while Garth waited with a deadly patience. At last she struck off to the northwest, calling to them, and Garth and Charley spurred after. "'Erbe't, Mary and her, go this way," she said briefly, as they came up. "Nick Grylls take six horse west, and Xavier take four by coulée."
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