Part 12 (1/2)

”Why should one die calling for the sight of gra.s.s?” he asked abruptly, gazing into Chloe's eyes with a puzzled look.

The girl gazed directly, searchingly into MacNair's eyes. The naive frankness of him--his utter simplicity--astounded her.

”Oh!” she cried, impulsively stepping forward. ”It wasn't the _gra.s.s_--it was--oh! _can't_ you _see_?” The man regarded her wonderingly and shook his head.

”No,” he answered gravely. ”I can not see.”

”It was--everything! Life--friends--home! The gra.s.s was only the symbol--the tangible emblem that stood for life!” MacNair nodded, but, by the look in his eye, Chloe knew that he did not understand and that pride and a certain natural reserve sealed his lips from further questioning.

”It is far to the Mackenzie,” ventured the girl.

”Aye, far. After my father died I brought her here.”

”You! Brought her here!” she exclaimed, staring in surprise into the strong emotionless face.

The man nodded slowly. ”In the winter it was--and I came alone--dragging her body upon a sled----”

”But why----”

”Because I think she would have wished it so. If one hated the wild, rugged cliffs and the rock-tossed rapids, would one wish to lie upon a cliff with the rapids roaring, for ever and ever? I do not think that, so I brought her here--away from the grey hills and the ceaseless roar of the rapids.”

”But the gra.s.s?”

”I brought that from the Southland. I failed many times before I found a kind that would grow. It is little I can do for her, and she does not know, but, somehow, it has made me feel--easier--I cannot tell you exactly. I come here often.”

”I think she _does_ know,” said Chloe softly, and brushed hot tears from her eyes. Could _this_ be the man whose crimes against the poor, ignorant savages were the common knowledge of the North? Could this be he whom men called Brute--this simple-spoken, straightforward, boyish man who had endured hards.h.i.+ps and spared no effort, that the mother he had never known might lie in her eternal rest beneath the green sod of her native land, far from the sights, and sounds that, in life, had become a torture to her soul, and worn her, at last, to the grave?

”Mr.--MacNair.” The hard note--the note of uncompromising antagonism--had gone from her voice, and the man looked at her in surprise. It was the first time she had addressed him without prefixing the name Brute and emphasizing the prefix. He stood, regarding her calmly, waiting for her to proceed. Somehow, Chloe found that it had become very difficult for her to speak; to say the things to this man that she had intended to say. ”I cannot understand you--your viewpoint.”

”Why should you try? I ask no one to understand me. I care not what people think.”

”About the Indians, I mean----”

”The Indians? What do you know of my viewpoint in regard to the Indians?” The man's face had hardened at her mention of the Indians.

”I know this!” exclaimed the girl. ”That you are trading them whiskey!

With my own eyes I saw Mr. Lapierre smash your kegs--the kegs that were cunningly disguised as bales of freight and marked with your name, and I saw the whiskey spilled out upon the ground.”

She paused, expecting a denial, but MacNair remained silent and again she saw the peculiar twinkle in his eye as he waited for her to proceed. ”And I--you, yourself told me that you would kill some of Mr.

Lapierre's Indians! Do you call that justice--to kill men because they happen to be in the employ of a rival trader--one who has as much right to trade in the Northland as you have?”

Again she paused, but the man ignored her question.

”Go on,” he said shortly.

”And you told me your Indians had to work so hard they had no time for book-learning, and that the souls of the Indians were black as--as h.e.l.l.”

”And I told you, also, that I have never owned any whiskey. Why do you believe me in some things and not in others? It would seem more consistent, Miss Chloe Elliston, for you either to believe or to disbelieve me.”

”But, I _saw_ the whiskey. And as for what you, yourself, told me--a man will scarcely make himself out worse than he is.”