Part 3 (2/2)
”He pays no cash for labour, nor for fur, and he sees to it that his Indians are always hopelessly in his debt. He trades them whiskey.
They are his. His to work, and to cheat, and to debauch, and to vent his rage upon--for his pa.s.sions are the wild, unbridled pa.s.sions of the fighting wolf. He kills! He maims! Or he allows to live! The Indians are his, body and soul. Their wives and their children are his. He owns them. _He_ is the law!
”He warned me out of the North. I ignored that warning. The land is broad and free. There is room for all, therefore I brought in my goods and traded. And, because I refused to grind the poor savages under the iron heel of oppression, because I offer a meagre trifle over and above what is necessary for their bare existence, the brute hates me. He came upon me at Fort Rae, and there, in the presence of the factor, his clerk, and his chief trader, he fell upon me and beat me so that for three days I lay unable to travel.”
”But the others!” interrupted the girl, ”the factor and his men! Why did they allow it?”
Again the gleam of hate flashed in the man's eyes. ”They allowed it because they are in league with him. They fear him. They fear his hold upon the Indians. So long as he maintains a permanent post a hundred and seventy-five miles to the northward--more than two hundred and fifty by the water trail--they know that he will not seriously injure the trade at Fort Rae. With me it is different. I trade here, and there, wherever the children of the wilderness are to be found.
Therefore I am hated by the men of the Hudson Bay Company who would have been only too glad had MacNair killed me.”
Chloe, who had listened eagerly to every word, leaped to her feet and looked at Lapierre with s.h.i.+ning eyes. ”Oh! I think it is splendid!
You are brave, and you stand for the right of things! For the welfare of the Indians! I see now why the factor warned me against you! He wanted to discredit you.”
Lapierre smiled. ”The factor? What factor? And what did he tell you?”
”The factor at the Landing. 'Beware of Pierre Lapierre,' he said; and when I asked him who Pierre Lapierre was, and why I should beware of him, he shrugged his shoulders and would say nothing.”
Lapierre nodded. ”Ah yes--the company men--the factors and traders have no love for the free-trader. We cannot blame them. It is tradition. For nearly two and one-half centuries the company has stood for power and authority in the outlands--and has reaped the profits of the wild places. Let us be generous. It is an old and respectable inst.i.tution. It deals fairly enough with the Indians--by its own measure of fairness, it is true--but fairly enough. With the company I have no quarrel.
”But with MacNair--” he stopped abruptly and shrugged. The gleam of hate that flashed in his eyes always at the mention of the name faded.
”But why speak of him--surely there are more pleasant subjects,” he smiled, ”for instance your school--it interests me greatly.”
”Interests you! I thought it displeased you! Surely a look of annoyance or suspicion leaped from your eyes when I mentioned my mission.”
The man laughed lightly. ”Yes? And can you blame me--when I thought you were in league with Brute MacNair? For, since his post was established, no independent save myself has dared to encroach upon even the borders of his empire.”
Chloe Elliston flushed deeply. ”And you thought I would league myself with a man like _that_?”
”Only for a moment. Stop and think. All my life I have lived in the North, and, except for a few scattered priests and missionaries, no one has pushed beyond the outposts for any purpose other than for gain.
And the trader's gain is the Indian's loss--for, few deal fairly.
Therefore, when I came upon your big outfit upon the very threshold of MacNair's domain, I thought, of course, this was some new machination of the brute. Even now I do not understand--the expense, and all. The Indians cannot afford to pay for education.”
It was the girl's turn to laugh. A rippling, light-hearted laugh--the laughter of courage and youth. The barrier that had suddenly loomed between herself and this man of the North vanished in a breath. He had shown her her work, had pointed out to her a foeman worthy of her steel. She darted a swift glance toward Lapierre who sat staring into the fire. Would not this man prove an invaluable ally in her war of deliverance?
”Do not trouble yourself about the expense,” she smiled. ”I have money--'oodles of it,' as we used to say in school--millions, if I need them! And I'm going to fight this Brute MacNair until I drive him out of the North! And you? Will you help me to rid the country of this scourge and free the people from his tyranny? Together we could work wonders. For your heart is with the Indians, as mine is.”
Again the girl glanced into the man's face and saw that the deep-set black eyes fairly glittered with enthusiasm and eagerness--an eagerness and enthusiasm that a keener observer than Chloe Elliston might have noticed, sprang into being suspiciously coincident with her mention of the millions. Lapierre did not answer at once, but deftly rolled a cigarette. The end of the cigarette glowed brightly as he filled his lungs and blew a plume of grey smoke into the air.
”Allow me a little time to think. For this is a move of importance, and to be undertaken not lightly. It is no easy task you have set yourself. It is possible you will not win--highly probable, in fact, for----”
”But I _shall_ win! I am _right_--and upon my winning depends the future of a people! Think it over until tomorrow, if you will, but--”
She paused abruptly, and her soft, hazel eyes peered searchingly into the depths of the restless black ones. ”Your sympathies _are_ with the Indians, aren't they?”
Lapierre tossed the half-smoked cigarette onto the ground. ”Can you doubt it?” The man's eyes were not gleaming now, and into their depths had crept a look of ineffable sadness.
”They are my people,” he said softly. ”Miss Elliston, _I am an Indian_!”
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