The Country Beyond: A Romance of the Wilderness Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  It seemed an interminable wait to Peter, back in the cabin. Jolly Rogerhad put out the light, and when the moon came up the glow of it did notcome into the dark room where Peter lay, for the open door was to thewest, and curtains were drawn closely at both windows. But through thedoor he could see the first mellowing of the night, and after that theswift coming of a soft, golden radiance which swallowed all darkness andfilled his world with the ghostly shadows which seemed alive, yet nevermade a sound. It was a big, splendid moon this night, and Peter lovedthe moon, though he had seen it only a few times in his three months oflife. It fascinated him more than the sun, for it was always light whenthe sun came, and he had never seen the sun eat up darkness, as themoon did. Its mystery awed him, but did not frighten. He could not quiteunderstand the strange, still shadows which were always unreal when henosed into them, and it puzzled him why the birds did not fly about inthe moon glow, and sing as they did in the day-time. And something deepin him, many generations older than himself, made his blood run fasterwhen this thing that ate up darkness came creeping through the sky, andhe was filled with a yearning to adventure out into the strange glowof it, quietly and stealthily, watching and listening for things he hadnever seen or heard.

  In the gloom of the cabin his eyes remained fixed steadily upon the opendoor, and for a long time he listened only for the returning footstepsof Jolly Roger and Nada. Twice he made efforts to drag himself to theedge of the bunk, but the movement sent such a cutting pain through himthat he did not make a third. And outside, after a time, he heard theNight People rousing themselves. They were very cautious, these NightPeople, for unlike the creatures of the dawn, waking to greet thesun with song and happiness, most of them were sharp-fanged andlong-clawed-rovers and pirates of the great wilderness, ready to kill.And this, too, Peter sensed through the generations of northland dogthat was in him. He heard a wolf howl, coming faintly through the nightfrom miles away, and something told him it was not a dog. From nearercame the call of a moose, and that same sense told him he had hearda monster bear which his eyes had never seen. He did not know of thesoft-footed, night-eyed creatures of prey--the fox, the lynx, thefisher-cat, the mink and the ermine, nor of the round-eyed, featheredmurderers in the tree-tops--yet that same something told him they wereout there among the shadows, under the luring glow of the moon. Anda thing happened, all at once, to stab the truth home to him. A babysnowshoe rabbit, a third grown, hopped out into the open close to thecabin door, and as it nibbled at the green grass, a gray catapult ofclaw and feathers shot out of the air, and Peter heard the crying agonyof the rabbit as the owl bore it off into the thick spruce tops. Eventhen--unafraid--Peter wanted to go out into the moon glow!

  At last, there was an end to his wait. He heard footsteps, and JollyRoger came from out of the yellow moon-mist of the night and stopped infront of the door. There he stood, making no sound, and looking into thewest, where the sky was ablaze with stars over the tree-tops. There wasa glad little yip in Peter's throat, but he choked it back. Jolly Rogerwas strangely quiet, and Peter could not hear Nada, and as he sniffed,and gulped the lump in his throat, he seemed to catch the breath ofsomething impending in the air. Then Jolly Roger came in, and sat downin darkness near the table, and for a long time Peter kept his eyesfixed on the shadowy blotch of him there in the gloom, and listened tohis breathing, until he could stand it no longer, and whined.

  The sound stirred Jolly Roger. He got up, struck a match--and then blewthe match out, and came and sat down beside Peter, and stroked him withhis hand.

  "Peter," he said in a low voice, "I guess we've got a job on our hands.You began it today--and I've got to finish it. We're goin' to kill JedHawkins!"

  Peter snuggled closer.

  "Mebby I'm bad, and mebby the law ought to have me," Jolly Roger wenton in the darkness, "but until tonight I never made up my mind to kill aman. I'm ready--now. If Jed Hawkins hurts her again we're goin' to killhim! Understand, Pied-Bot?"

  He got up, and Peter could hear him undressing. Then he made a nest forPeter on the floor, and stretched himself out in the bunk; and afterthat, for a long time, there seemed to be something heavier than thegloom of night in the cabin for Peter, and he listened and waited andprayed in his dog way for Nada's return, and wondered why it was thatshe left him so long. And the Night People held high carnival under theyellow moon, and there was flight and terror and slaughter in the glowof it--and Jolly Roger slept, and the wolf howled nearer, and the creekchortled its incessant song of running water, and in the end Peter'seyes closed, and a red-eyed ermine peeped over the sill into the man-anddog-scented stillness of the outlaw's cabin.

  For many days after this first night in the cabin, Peter did not seeNada. There was more rain, and the creek flooded higher, so that eachtime Jolly Roger went over to Cragg's Ridge he took his life in hishands in fording the stream. Peter saw no one but Jolly Roger, and atthe end of the second week he was going about on his mended leg. Butthere would always be a limp in his gait, and always his right hind-footwould leave a peculiar mark in the trail.

  These two weeks of helplessness were an education in Peter's life andwere destined to leave their mark upon him always. He learned to knowJolly Roger, not alone from seeing events, but through an intuitiveinstinct that grew swiftly somewhere in his shrewd head. This instinct,given widest scope in these weeks of helplessness, developed faster thanany other in him, until in the end, he could judge Jolly Roger's humorby the sound of his approaching footsteps. Never was there a waking hourin which he was not fighting to comprehend the mystery of the changethat had come over his life. He knew that Nada was gone, and each daythat passed put her farther away from him, yet he also sensed the factthat Jolly Roger went to her, and when the outlaw returned to the cabinPeter was filled with a yearning hope that Nada was returning with him.

  But gradually Peter came to think less about Nada, and more about JollyRoger, until at last his heart beat with a love for this man which wasgreater than all other things in his world. And in these days JollyRoger found in Peter's comradeship and growing understanding acomforting outlet for the things which at times consumed him. Peter sawit all--hours when Jolly Roger's voice and laughter filled the cabinwith cheer and happiness, and others when his face was set in grimlines, with that hard, far-away look in his eyes that Peter could neverquite make out. It was at such times, when Jolly Roger held a chokinggrip on the love in his heart, that he told Peter things which he hadnever revealed to a human soul.

  In the dusk of one evening, as he sat wet with the fording of the creek,he said to Peter,

  "We ought to go, Peter. We ought to pack up--and go tonight.Because--sometimes I'm afraid of myself, Pied-Bot. I'd kill for her. I'ddie for her. I'd give up the whole world, and live in a prison cell--ifI could have her with me. And that's dangerous, Peter, because we can'thave her. It's impossible, boy. She doesn't guess why I'm here. Shedoesn't know I've been outlawin' it for years, and that I'm hiding herebecause the Police would never think of looking for Jolly Roger McKaythis close to civilization. If I told her, she would think I wasworse than Jed Hawkins, and she wouldn't believe me if I told her I'veoutlawed with my wits instead of a gun, and that I've never criminallyhurt a person in my life. No, she wouldn't believe that, Peter. Andshe--she cares for me, Pied-Bot. That's the hell of it! And she's gotfaith in me, and would go with me to the Missioner's tomorrow. I knowit. I can see it, feel it, and I--"

  His fingers tightened in the loose hide of Peter's neck.

  "Peter," he whispered in the thickening darkness. "I believe there's aGod, but He's a different sort of God than most people believe in. Helives in the trees out there, in the flowers, in the birds, the sky, ineverything--and I hope that God will strike me dead if I do what isn'tright with her, Peter! I do. I hope he strikes me dead!"

  And that night Peter knew that Jolly Roger tossed about restlessly inhis bunk, and slept but little.

  But the next morning he was singing, and the warm sun flooding ov
erthe wilderness was not more cheerful than his voice as he cooked theirbreakfast. That, to Peter, was the most puzzling thing about this man.With gloom and oppression fastened upon him he would rise up suddenly,and start whistling or singing, and once he said to Peter,

  "I take my cue from the sun, Peter Clubfoot. It's always shining, nomatter if the clouds are so thick underneath that we can't see it. Alaugh never hurts a man, unless he's got a frozen lung."

  Jolly Roger did not cross the ford that day.