United States or Singapore ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The life-line which the woman had set up was all that stood between them and complete disaster. Winter with all its deadly perils had become a memory. Life was supreme again on the plateau of Unaga. It was in the air, in the breezes sweeping down from the Northern hills, where the crystal snow caps no longer had power to inspire distrust. It was in the flowing waters of the river.
Fourteen years of failure had elapsed since the taking of his great decision. Here was a prospect. Here was a chance. Had he not in the past fourteen years taken every chance? Well, it was no time to shrink before the fiery heart of Unaga. The men devoured their food. Steve had no desire to talk of his new-born inspiration. Bald words would never convince these primitive creatures.
The promise of the sturdy body Steve had so often watched trundling across the snows of Unaga in its bundle of furs had developed out of all knowledge under the ample hospitality of Millie Ross's home. Tall, straight, muscular it had shot up many inches. The boy was probably seven years of age. Steve did not know for sure. Nor did it signify greatly.
Somewhere back there far beyond his view stood the great Spire of Unaga, and the black cloud hovering about its crest. It had been left far, far behind them, but it still remained a memory. "No Sleeper Indian man," he said decidedly. Then he added with a final shake of his head: "Oh no." Steve laughed. It was not often these men laughed on the trail.
If her husband had been alive doubtless her lips would have remained sealed. But he was not there, and she knew not what had become of him. Then there was little Marcel, and she knew that when she left that bed it would be only for a cold grave on this bleak plateau of Unaga. Steve waited with infinite patience. He felt it to be a moment for patience.
And all the time there's a feller, a mean, low, skunk of a feller with a good-looker face, and the manners and talk of a swell white man, hanging around on that home doorstep. So it goes on. How long I don't know. Then comes a time when this p'lice officer gets out on a mission to Unaga. And it's the other feller that has to hand him his orders. Do you see?
He believed that with the stupendous vision of Unaga he had witnessed Nature's most sublime effort. So, out of his confidence he was trapped as easily as a man of no experience at all. At his bidding dogs and men moved to the assault of the glacial barrier. The thing that they contemplated was by no means new.
I've seen him to-day at Mallard's. He didn't see me. Only my back. But I saw him. He came with Saney. And there's only one thing I guess to bring Steve to Mallard's. Saney's never given me a moment's nightmare. But Steve Steve back from Unaga, Steve in plain clothes in Quebec with Saney, and me sheltering at Mallard's, tells its own story to anyone with savee.
The terror of that through which they had passed was still in his mind. So, too, with the fiery heart of Unaga that lay ahead. Oolak had nothing to add, so he kept to his customary silence. Steve shook his head. "There's no quitting," he said simply. "Guess we've come nigh three hundred miles. We've got through a territory to break the heart of a stone image.
It's making out that I'd like to go back on my word, and refuse to give Marcel up to the moloch of Unaga. That's the part that isn't fair. Steve, if you'd come to me in twenty years my word would have gone every time. That boy might be my own son, I never had a son, and maybe you can guess just what that means to me when I say it.
Word Of The Day