Part 48 (1/2)
”Who?” someone asked.
”The white woman that was here. Make her head go this way, that way.”
Jeresis imitated.
”The chicadee woman,” said another.
”I see them by the company fence,” Jeresis went on idly. ”She stand on one side. He stand on other side. They look foolish at each other, like white people do. She make the big eyes and talk soft talk. They say he goes up every night.”
The matter was not of great interest to the company generally, and Jeresis's story was cut short by a renewed burst of singing. Bela continued to sit where she was, still as a stone woman, until she thought they had forgotten her. Then she slipped away in the dark.
Musq'oosis was awakened by being violently shaken. He sat up in his blanket in no amiable frame of mind.
”What's the matter?” he demanded.
Bela was past all make-believe of indifference now.
”I promise you I not go to settlement,” she said breathlessly. ”I come tell you I got go, anyhow. I got tak' my promise back. I got go now--now! I got go quick!”
”Are you as crazy as they say?” demanded Musq'oosis.
”Yes, I am crazy,” she stammered. ”No, I am not crazy. I will go crazy if I stay here. You are a bad friend to me. You not tell me that white woman is after my man. I got go to-night!”
”Oh, h.e.l.l!” said Musq'oosis.
”Give me back my promise!” begged Bela. ”I got go now.”
”Go to bed,” said Musq'oosis. ”We talk quiet to-morrow. I want sleep now. You mak' me tired!”
”I got go now, now!” she repeated.
”Listen to me,” said Musq'oosis. ”I not tell you that for cause it is only foolishness. She is an old woman. She jus' a fool-hen. Are you 'fraid of her?”
”She is white,” said Bela. ”She know more than me. She know how to catch a man. Me, I am not all white. I live wit' Indians. He think little of me for that. Yes, I am afraid of her. Give me my promise back. I not be foolish. I do everything you say. But I got go see.”
”Well, if you got go, you got go,” said Musq'oosis crossly. ”Don't come to me after and ask what to do.”
”Good-bye!” said Bela, flying out of the teepee.
One day as Mrs. Beattie and Miss Mackall were sewing together, the trader's wife took occasion to remonstrate very gently with her sister concerning Sam. Somehow of late Miss Mackall found herself down in the road mornings when Sam was due to pa.s.s with his load, and somehow she was back there again at night when he came home empty.
Mrs. Beattie was a quiet, wise, mellow kind of woman. ”He's so young,”
she suggested.
Her sister cheerfully agreed. ”Of course, a mere baby! That's why I can be friends with him. He's so utterly friendless. He needs a kind word from somebody.”
”But don't you rather go out of your way to give it to him?” asked Mrs. Beattie very softly.
”Sister! How can you say such a thing?” said Miss Mackall in shocked tones. ”A mere child like that--one would think---- Oh, how can you?”