Part 24 (1/2)
”And I have loved you--always!”
CHAPTER XVI
CONFESSIONS
Brent returned to the cabin with his brain in a whirl. ”I'll make a strike before spring! I've got to! Then we'll hit for Dawson, and we'll stop at Fort Norman and be married. No--we'll go on through and be married at the Reeves'! Married! A Brent married to an Indian!” He halted in the trail and cursed himself for the thought.
”She's a d.a.m.n sight too good for you! You're a h.e.l.l of a Brent--nothing left but the name! Gambler--notorious gambler, Reeves said--and a barkeep in Malone's dive. You're a hooch hound, and you've got to keep away from hooch to stay sober! You don't dare go back to Dawson--nor anywhere else where there's a saloon! You're broke, and worse than broke. You're right now living on Reeves' money--and you think of marrying _her_!”
Furiously, next morning, he attacked the gravel at the bottom of the shaft. When the loose muck was thrown out he swore at the slow progress, and futilely attacked the floor of the shaft with his pick as though to win down to bed-rock through the iron-hard frost. Then he climbed out and, scooping up a pan from the dump, retired to the cabin, and washed it out.
”Same thing,” he muttered disgustedly, as he stared at the yellow grains, ”Just wages. I've got to make a strike! There's Reeves to pay--and Camillo Bill--and I've got to have dust--and plenty of it--for _her_. d.a.m.n this hole! I'm going to hit for the lower river. We'll cover this shaft to keep the snow out and hit north. Hearne, and Franklin, and Richardson all report native copper on the lower river--amygdaloid beds that crop out in sheer cliffs. Gold isn't the only metal--there's millions in copper! And, the river winding in and out among the trap and basalt d.y.k.es, there's bound to be gold, too.” He collected the few grains of gold, threw out the gravel and water, and picking up his rifle, stepped out the door. At the shaft he paused and called to Joe Pete that he was going hunting and as the big Indian watched him disappear up the river, his lips stretched in a slow grin, and he tossed wood into the shaft.
A mile from the cabin Brent rounded a sharp bend and came face to face with Snowdrift. There was an awkward silence during which both strove to appear unconcerned. The girl was the first to speak, and Brent noticed that she was blus.h.i.+ng furiously: ”I--I am hunting,” she announced, swinging her rifle prominently into view.
Brent laughed: ”So am I hunting--for you.”
”But really, I am hunting caribou. There are lots of mouths to feed, and the men are not much good. They will spend hours slipping up onto a caribou and then miss him.”
”Come on, then, let's go,” answered the man gaily. ”Which way shall it be?”
”I saw lots of tracks the other day on a lake to the eastward. It is six or seven miles. I think we will find caribou there.” Brent tried to take her hand, but she eluded him with a laugh, and struck out through the scraggling timber at a pace that he soon found hard to follow.
”Slow down! I'll be good!” he called, when they had covered a quarter of a mile, and Snowdrift laughingly slackened her pace.
”You're a wonder!” he panted, as he closed up the distance that separated them, ”Don't you ever get tired?”
”Oh, yes, very often. But, not so early in the day. See, three caribou pa.s.sed this way only a few hours ago--a bull and two cows.” They struck into the trail, and two hours later Snowdrift succeeded in bring down one of the cows with a long shot as the three animals trotted across a frozen muskeg.
”And now we must kill one for you,” announced the girl as Brent finished drawing the animal.
”We needn't be in any hurry about it,” he grinned. ”We still have most of the one we got the other day.”
”Then, why are you hunting?”
”I told you. I found what I was hunting--back there on the river. How about lunch? I'm hungry as a wolf.”
The girl pointed to a sheltered spot in the lee of a spruce thicket, and while Brent sc.r.a.ped back the snow, she produced food from her pack.
”You must have figured on getting pretty hungry,” teased Brent, eying the generous luncheon to which he had added his own.
Snowdrift blushed: ”You brought more than I did!” she smiled, ”See--there is much more.”
”Oh, I'll come right out with it--I put that up for two!”
”And mine is for two,” she admitted, ”But you are mean for making me say it.”
During the meal the girl was unusually silent and several times Brent surprised a look of pain in the dark eyes, and then the look would fade and the eyes would gaze pensively into the distance. Once he was sure that her lip quivered.