Part 17 (2/2)

He was not a big man, but was evidently very strong and active. His dress was of the most nondescript character, consisting mainly of a tattered fur cap, with a woolen m.u.f.fler tied over his ears; a patched and parti-colored coat belted at the waist with a frayed rope. His legs disappeared into the wide tops of a pair of boots evidently too big for him, with the feet bundled in bagging so that he could walk on top of the snow, this in lieu of regular snowshoes.

His back was toward Nan and he did not turn to face her as he said:

”Be not afeared, leetle Man'zelle. Le bad chat is gone. We shall now do famous-lee, eh? No be afeared more.”

”No, no, sir,” gasped Nan, trying to be brave. ”Won't, won't it come back?”

”Nev-air!” cried the man, with a flourish of the gun which was a rusty-barreled old weapon, perhaps more dangerous at the b.u.t.t end than at its muzzle. ”Ze chat only fear for her babies. She have zem in dat tree. We will go past leeving zem streectly alone, eh?”

”No!” cried Nan hastily. ”I'm going back to the camp. I didn't know there were such dangerous things as that in these woods.”

”Ah! You are de strange leetle Mam'zelle den?” responded the man. ”You do not know ze Beeg Woods?”

”I guess I don't know anything about this wilderness,” confessed Nan.

”My uncle brought me to the camp up yonder this morning, and I hope he'll go right home again. It's awful!”

”Eet seem terrifying to ze leetle Mam'zelle because she is unused--eh?

Me! I be terrified at ze beeg city where she come from, p'r'aps. Zey tell Pete 'bout waggings run wizout horses, like stea'mill. Ugh! No wanter see dem. Debbil in 'em,” and he laughed, not unpleasantly, making a small joke of the suggestion.

Indeed his voice, now that the sharpness of excitement had gone out of it, was a very pleasant voice. The broken words he used a.s.sured Nan that his mother tongue must be French. He was probably one of the ”Canucks”

she had heard her cousins speak of. French Canadians were not at all strange to Nan Sherwood, for in Tillbury many of the mill hands were of that race.

But she thought it odd that this man kept his face studiously turned from her. Was he watching the bobcat all the time? Was the danger much more serious than he would own?

”Why don't you look at me?” cried the girl, at length. ”I'm awfully much obliged to you for coming to help me as you did. And my uncle will want to thank you I am sure. Won't you tell me your name?”

The man was silent for a moment. Then, when he spoke, his voice was lower and there was an indescribably sad note in it.

”Call me 'Injun Pete', zat me. Everybody in de beeg Woods know Injun Pete. No odder name now. Once ze good Brodders at Aramac goin' make scholar of Pete, make heem priest, too, p'r'aps. He go teach among he's mudder's people. Mudder Micmac, fadder wild Frinchman come to dees lakesh.o.r.e. But nev-air can Pete be Teacher, be priest. Non, non! Jes'

Injun Pete.”

Nan suddenly remembered what little Margaret Llewellen had said about the fire at Pale Lick, and ”Injun Pete.” The fact that this man kept his face turned from her all this time aroused her suspicion. She was deeply, deeply grateful to him for what he had just done for her, and, naturally, she enlarged in her mind the peril in which she had been placed.

Margaret had suggested this unfortunate half-breed was ”not right in his head” because of the fire which had disfigured him. But he spoke very sensibly now, it seemed to Nan; very pitifully, too, about his blasted hopes of a clerical career. She said, quietly:

”I expect you know my uncle and his family, Pete. He is Mr. Sherwood of Pine Camp.”

”Ah! Mis-tair Hen Sherwood! I know heem well,” admitted the man. ”He nice-a man ver' kind to Injun Pete.”

”I'd like to have you look at me, please,” said Nan, still softly. ”You see, I want to know you again if we meet. I am very grateful.”

Pete waved her thanks aside with a royal gesture. ”Me! I be glad to be of use, oh, oui! Leetle Man'zelle mus' not make mooch of nottin', eh?”

He laughed again, but he did not turn to look at her. Nan reached out a tentative hand and touched his sleeve. ”Please, Mr. Pete,” she said. ”I, I want to see you. I, I have heard something about your having been hurt in a fire. I am sure you must think yourself a more hateful sight than you really are.”

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