Part 40 (1/2)

”But it's not true! Nothing of the kind happened. Ask Kituwia.”

”No, thank you; he would only knock me down! A man must not only be careful not to ask him about it, but must not even show that he knows.

Wopatka told me of it.”

”Where are we to look for you if we need you?”

”People will tell you where;--the tavern is the best, for a good deal of business of different kinds is being done with the Chukchee just now, and I am interpreter. You can't get them to do anything without vodka.”

A few more days had pa.s.sed, when suddenly such a remarkable thing happened that all the inhabitants of the little town came out to watch it. A number of festively dressed Chukchee on two sledges, each drawn by two pairs of fine reindeer, drove up at full gallop to Stefan's house. Stefan went out on to the steps to meet them. The first to alight was an old Chukchee, dressed in a costly ”docha” made of black rat, skilfully embroidered, and edged with beaver. He supported himself as he walked by resting his hand lightly on the shoulders of his sons, who held his feet by the ankles and respectfully placed them on the steps. They were followed by a boy of nine, his head bare and his hair closely cropped, and then came two small, alert, queer-looking individuals. One wore a docha of black rat, similar to the old man's but not so good; the second had no outer wrap at all, but, dressed in tight-fitting fur, looked like a gnome escaped from the forest. By their plaits, which were bound up with tinkling silver ornaments, and by the raspberry-coloured silk handkerchiefs across their foreheads, Stefan knew that these were ladies. They were both tattooed. The elder one had blue waving lines worked in silk on her forehead and cheeks; the younger had deep scars along her nose and chin. Her figure was not without charm; she was slim, and moved gracefully. She had the Chukchee woman's eyes, and her face, which was rather large, expressed a certain amount of determination. The general impression was spoilt, however, by a nervous habit of looking behind her.

”Well, here they are!” Jzef cried, hurrying in after the guests.

”Receive them somehow, and I will fetch Buza at once.”

”Anoai! Anoai!” the Chukchee greeted their host.

There were too many guests for the available seats, so Stefan pulled out some rugs from a corner and spread them in the middle of the floor. Sitting down on them in a circle, the natives began to chatter.

One of the old man's sons was the Chukchee who had dried his clothes at Stefan's fire. He was evidently relating the adventure--certainly not for the first time. Yet they all listened attentively, a.s.senting with friendly grunts and looking with interest at the bed; the younger woman even jumped up and peeped under the quilt, whereupon they all burst out laughing. When the clock struck, the cuckoo and its movements and sound made an immense impression, and the little boy shouted with delight. They all jumped up and stood in front of the clock, imitating it, and when the door shut with a snap behind the little bird they sprang away in fright at first, but ended by laughing loudly. However, the old man could put a stop to their merriment in a moment if he chose.

Buza, Wopatka, and Jzef now came in.

”Well, I told you so! It's Otowaka, not Gemka. There's certainly no such person as Gemka, and 'gem-kamatakan' means in Chukchee, 'I am ill.' It's a great honour that old Otowaka has come to you himself.

He's very proud, and the richest man in the country--quite the richest. You have been most successful.”

He sat down in the circle of Chukchee with Wopatka, who kept a little behind him. Jzef helped Stefan to prepare the feast and boil the samovar. They sent out for water.

”He is a much-respected man. He has innumerable reindeer, three wives in three different places, and six sons,” Buza said, growing proportionately communicative as the vodka and food disappeared. ”You have been very successful. He is rewarding you and doing you honour.

You have only to go to him, and he will give you valuable furs; he will even give a daughter to each of you. He has beautiful daughters; I saw them in the town as they pa.s.sed through in the caravan. For these Otowakas come from a long distance, so they travel in caravans.

He evidently wants to ask you to do some work for him, for he wished to know whether you were a good locksmith and could put together a foreign rifle which has been taken to pieces. The Americans always sell them arms without c.o.c.k or trigger. So I told him you had clever fingers, and that even the District Inspector thinks highly of you.

The old man listened to this carefully. He is sure to offer you a present, and you must take it, or he will be very much offended.”

The magnet and other wonders Stefan was able to show them caused the greatest delight to the natives, but their merriment reached its height when Jzef started to play the barrel organ. They hung over the box, laid their ears to it, poked their noses into it, grunted and stamped in rhythm, and finally began to move in a slow dance. Their eyes laughed, and their faces shone with grease and perspiration.

”Hey! Come along! Jump up, Wopatka! Now, that's most graceful!” Buza exclaimed, pulling the Chukchee, who was half tipsy, by the arm.

At that moment the door opened wide and Kituwia appeared on the threshold. Jzef, very much pleased, went towards him, but the Chukchee neither stirred nor gave the usual greeting, ”Anoai!” He closed the door behind him, and, leaning against it, held out one hand in an att.i.tude of defence, and laid the other on his neck. His hair stood out wildly from under the leather band, and his eyes glowed with a wolfish fierceness. At the sight of him the circle of merry people in the middle of the room became petrified. The old man looked darkly at the bold intruder, the young men bent forward as if ready to spring at him, the women stared with wide-open mouths.

”What do you want?” cried Stefan, advancing. ”Be off!”

”Go out! Take yourself off when you aren't invited!” Buza said, coming forward to support his host. ”Be careful not to go near him,” he added to Stefan, ”or he will run you through. You see how he lays his hand on his neck: he has a knife there; I can see he has--I can see it by the strap on his neck. What do you mean by bringing a knife with you into the town, you d.a.m.ned scoundrel? Don't you know that's forbidden?

I'll tell the Inspector, and to the end of your life you'll never be allowed to come into the town again. You'll be sent away to the tundra at once. Give me the knife.”

”I will give it you directly, but I want it first for that dog whom I have chased like a hare all over the country,” Kituwia calmly answered in Chukchee.

One of the young Chukchee sprang towards him, but Jzef seized him by the shoulder. Neither he nor Stefan understood what the natives were talking about, but they guessed that there was a quarrel.

”You would do better to drink this and join us,” Jzef said in a conciliatory way, taking Kituwia a gla.s.s. The latter pushed it aside.