The Huntress Part 71

Sam debated the matter scowling. Musq'oosis had made him angry, and he distrusted him. Yet he could not but be drawn to the quaint little philosopher, too. He could not but remember that Musq'oosis had been kind to him at a time when he most needed it.

"How did it happen?" he asked, partly softened.

The boy ill.u.s.trated his story with the graphic gesticulation of his race.

"Yes'day Musq'oosis not wake up at all. I got shake him in his blanket. Wake moch slow. Say feel moch bad. All tam sleepy. Can't stan' up. Can't eat not'ing. So we put him in the wagon and go.

"Bam-by say stop! Say can't go no furder. Wagon too moch shake. So we lay him on the ground in his blankets. We wait a while. T'ink maybe get better. Afternoon spell no better. He say no goin' get better. Say to me go get Sam. Ot'er boy Jack stay by him. So I come. Sleep las'

night at the crossing."

The story was detailed and convincing, and Sam's suspicions were partly lulled.

"You and the boy take my team," said Ed gravely. "Leave the black horse here to rest up."

A few minutes later they were on the way.

St. Paul had made an appointment with Sollers to come and get them in his canoe, and the trader was waiting when they got there. They swam the horses across. On the way over Sam discussed the case with Sollers. The trader, in addition to everything else, was often obliged to be a doctor.

"Sounds like general collapse," he suggested. "He's over seventy.

That's the way they go at last. Under a bush beside the trail."

"I wish you'd come with us," said Sam.

"I'll follow as soon as I can catch a horse."

Sam swung himself on his horse and clapped heels to his ribs. St. Paul lingered to tighten girths. Looking over his shoulder, Sam saw him in talk with Sollers. He had an impression that both turned their heads as he looked around.

When the boy overtook him, he demanded to know what they had been talking about.

"I say to Sollers better bring some pain-killer out of the store," the boy answered readily. "Sollers say all right."

Reaching the flat country above at the end of the long pull, they halted for the briefest possible time to eat and let the horses feed.

As they prepared to mount again, Sam said:

"Funny Sollers hasn't overtaken us."

"Guess can't catch his horse," said St. Paul.

They rode forward through the aspen woods, and across the open s.p.a.ces.

Having crossed the widest of these that goes by the name of Little Prairie, Sam began to keep watch ahead for evidences of the camp.

Every few minutes he asked St. Paul where it was.

"On'y little way now," was the boy's invariable reply.

"You said twenty miles from the river."

"Maybe I mak' little mistak'."

After an hour of this Sam turned sullen. "If it's a trick it won't do anybody any good," he said. "I shall ride back without dismounting."

St. Paul merely looked bland.

Finally Sam looked at the sun. "Four o'clock," he said. "If we don't arrive in half an hour I'll turn back anyway."

"Jus' little way, now," said St. Paul.

"Don't say that again!"

"Ot'er side this muskeg, then piny ridge and little small prairie. It is there."

This time St. Paul proved to be telling the truth. As they issued out on the meadow Sam saw the wagon standing under a tree on the other side. Coming closer he made out a rec.u.mbent figure under a willow-bush. The other boy and the other horse were not visible.

It was Musq'oosis. The bush protected him from the sun. With the first glimpse Sam had of his face, remorse attacked him for his suspicions.

In truth the old man was far gone. His skin had taken on a waxy, yellow consistency. He looked as serene and unearthly as if he had already pa.s.sed away. His eyes were closed. Sam spoke his name in alarm.

He opened his eyes and smiled, and feebly moved his hand toward Sam's.

"I glad you come," he murmured. "Wait long."

Sam gripped his hand. He forgot all his anger. It seemed shocking to him to find the old man untended in his extremity. He had heard tales of Indian callousness.

"Where's the other boy?" he demanded. "Has he run away?"

Musq'oosis shook his head. "Jack good boy," he said. "I send him look for ot'er horse. I 'fraid horse run home."

Sam ordered St. Paul to unsaddle the horses, to make a fire, and put on water.

"How do you feel?" he asked Musq'oosis solicitously.

"Pretty good," the old man answered, smiling. "I not feel bad no more I guess."

"Sollers will be along directly with medicine. He will know what to do for you."

"Medicine not mak' old heart go on," said Musq'oosis. "I have finish my hunt."

"I wish I could get you home!" murmured Sam.

The old man moved his head from side to side to see the trees and the sky. "This my home," he said. "It is good gra.s.s. There is no better bed."

"You mustn't talk like that," cried Sam, distressed. "You mustn't give up."

Musq'oosis smiled. "Not givin' up w'en old man die," he returned. "I lak live ver' well. I lak the summer an' the winter. Mos' of all I lak my big lak. I lak smooth and rough. I lak the green sh.o.r.e and the round bays and the little rivers that come down. It is a good worl'.

But I lak leave it now. I lak go to bed after big hunt."

"You shouldn't talk so much," said Sam. "It tires you."

"Let me talk," returned Musq'oosis, smiling still. "I soon done talkin'. I lak tell yo'ng man all an old man know. But not moch good, I guess. Yo'ng man got learn same lak his fat'er."

The old man murmured on out of his store of wisdom. Sometimes he appeared to doze, but always he kept hold of Sam's hand. It was a tremendous and arresting experience for young Sam. He was profoundly affected.