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They were unlikely consignments. Then, my friend, there came one night a dark man wearing a red cap and here under his arm he had the instrument with strings. This was the Chief Contractor under the Government in this region. He was rich; at Winnipeg he had stabled many blood horses. Then they were clustering about him at Scarecrow Charlie's, asking him his name. This, he said, was Pal Yachy.
He shall have gold poured into him like liquid, however." It was plain he had no love for this man who had fashioned him in the form of a rainbow. "What is this man called?" said the little doctor. "It's a dark man wearing a red cap, called Pal Yachy," said Rainbow Pete. "He spends his time escaping me. Look, where he shot me in the hip."
I felt him quiver, this great sailor, when he saw Pal Yachy standing there, but I put my arms about him whispering to him to wait. It was dark where we were, there was a light from the stove only. Oh my, there the dark Italian was glittering and heaving; he went holding in his fist a canvas sack stamped by the Government, containing the proper weight of gold.
"Am I not your wife?" cried the dark woman from Regina. Oh, the pleasant sailor. The song had touched him. "Look now," he said to Pal Yachy, "you made a rainbow of me in the beginning. Do you bring gold here now to plant at my feet, generous man?" My, my, this fantastic Italian knew that words were wasted now. He was like a snake with his sting. But Rainbow Pete was not an easy man.
She lay, not speaking to him, with the sack of gold heavy against her knees. "Is this plain?" said that Italian. Look now, Rainbow Pete is in his very shadow. Ay, in the shadow of this man who had fashioned him like a rainbow. "This is a great sum," said Pal Yachy, never looking behind him. "To this must be added the silence of one day in the valley."
There were tears flowing on the face, while she was telling me she was bewitched by the singing of Pal Yachy. Oh, at first she would just lie listening there, but now the man with his sweet voice was drawing her from her bed, to come putting aside the scented bottles and leaning in the window. Now I said, "My good woman, I am an old man with knowledge of the world.
The government sent them gold in sacks, to pay those who were left for the lives that had been lost. They were mad; they tumbled champagne out of bottles into tubs, frisking about in it. They had heard that this was done with money. But Pal Yachy was more foolish. He came singing; oh my, this was a powerful song, ringing against the ledges.
But isn't it strange, the same man who had been fashioning him like a rainbow, should be pointing out the gold to him. Oh, there's no doubt Pal Yachy was defeated in the end by his own voice He went away that night, leaving all to the sub-contractors. Heh! He was not seen on Mushrat again. Still he had a remarkable voice.
The night was blue. I'm telling you. He was a cunning beggar, Pal Yachy, for making the stars burn in their sockets. Now I saw him lift his arm to his head, the wicked sailor, listening to the tune of his enemy. Ay, this was the man who had fashioned him in the form of a rainbow. Still he did not know it, dreaming on his feet. He went swaying like a poplar.
It was like a battle between giants going on, there were thunders and red gleams in the black valley; and the candle-flame went shivering with the great noises. "Here," said Rainbow Pete, "I will scatter you like the rocks of the valley." Oh, the righteous man. Isn't it a strange consideration, the voice of Pal Yachy moving this crooked sailor to good deeds? Ay!
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