A Daughter of the Snows Read online

  CHAPTER XII

  "Mr. Harney, pleased to meet you. Dave, I believe, Dave Harney?" DaveHarney nodded, and Gregory St. Vincent turned to Frona. "You see, MissWelse, the world is none so large. Mr. Harney and I are not strangersafter all."

  The Eldorado king studied the other's face until a glimmeringintelligence came to him. "Hold on!" he cried, as St. Vincent startedto speak, "I got my finger on you. You were smooth-faced then. Let'ssee,--'86, fall of '87, summer of '88,--yep, that's when. Summer of'88 I come floatin' a raft out of Stewart River, loaded down withquarters of moose an' strainin' to make the Lower Country 'fore theywent bad. Yep, an' down the Yukon you come, in a Linderman boat. An'I was holdin' strong, ez it was Wednesday, an' my pardner ez it wasFriday, an' you put us straight--Sunday, I b'lieve it was. Yep,Sunday. I declare! Nine years ago! And we swapped moose-steaks ferflour an' bakin' soda, an'--an'--an' sugar! By the Jimcracky! I'mglad to see you!"

  He shoved out his hand and they shook again.

  "Come an' see me," he invited, as he moved away. "I've a right tidylittle shack up on the hill, and another on Eldorado. Latch-string'salways out. Come an' see me, an' stay ez long ez you've a mind to.Sorry to quit you cold, but I got to traipse down to the Opery Houseand collect my taxes,--sugar. Miss Frona'll tell you."

  "You are a surprise, Mr. St. Vincent." Frona switched back to thepoint of interest, after briefly relating Harney's saccharinedifficulties. "The country must indeed have been a wilderness nineyears ago, and to think that you went through it at that early day! Dotell me about it."

  Gregory St. Vincent shrugged his shoulders, "There is very little totell. It was an ugly failure, filled with many things that are notnice, and containing nothing of which to be proud."

  "But do tell me, I enjoy such things. They seem closer and truer tolife than the ordinary every-day happenings. A failure, as you callit, implies something attempted. What did you attempt?"

  He noted her frank interest with satisfaction. "Well, if you will, Ican tell you in few words all there is to tell. I took the mad ideainto my head of breaking a new path around the world, and in theinterest of science and journalism, particularly journalism, I proposedgoing through Alaska, crossing the Bering Straits on the ice, andjourneying to Europe by way of Northern Siberia. It was a splendidundertaking, most of it being virgin ground, only I failed. I crossedthe Straits in good order, but came to grief in Eastern Siberia--allbecause of Tamerlane is the excuse I have grown accustomed to making."

  "A Ulysses!" Mrs. Schoville clapped her hands and joined them. "Amodern Ulysses! How romantic!"

  "But not an Othello," Frona replied. "His tongue is a sluggard. Heleaves one at the most interesting point with an enigmatical referenceto a man of a bygone age. You take an unfair advantage of us, Mr. St.Vincent, and we shall be unhappy until you show how Tamerlane broughtyour journey to an untimely end."

  He laughed, and with an effort put aside his reluctance to speak of histravels. "When Tamerlane swept with fire and sword over Eastern Asia,states were disrupted, cities overthrown, and tribes scattered likestar-dust. In fact, a vast people was hurled broadcast over the land.Fleeing before the mad lust of the conquerors, these refugees swung farinto Siberia, circling to the north and east and fringing the rim ofthe polar basin with a spray of Mongol tribes--am I not tiring you?"

  "No, no!" Mrs. Schoville exclaimed. "It is fascinating! Your methodof narration is so vivid! It reminds me of--of--"

  "Of Macaulay," St. Vincent laughed, good-naturedly. "You know I am ajournalist, and he has strongly influenced my style. But I promise youI shall tone down. However, to return, had it not been for theseMongol tribes, I should not have been halted in my travels. Instead ofbeing forced to marry a greasy princess, and to become proficient ininterclannish warfare and reindeer-stealing, I should have travelledeasily and peaceably to St. Petersburg."

  "Oh, these heroes! Are they not exasperating, Frona? But what aboutthe reindeer-stealing and the greasy princesses?"

  The Gold Commissioner's wife beamed upon him, and glancing forpermission to Frona, he went on.

  "The coast people were Esquimo stock, merry-natured and happy, andinoffensive. They called themselves the Oukilion, or the Sea Men. Ibought dogs and food from them, and they treated me splendidly. Butthey were subject to the Chow Chuen, or interior people, who were knownas the Deer Men. The Chow Chuen were a savage, indomitable breed, withall the fierceness of the untamed Mongol, plus double his viciousness.As soon as I left the coast they fell upon me, confiscated my goods,and made me a slave."

  "But were there no Russians?" Mrs. Schoville asked.

  "Russians? Among the Chow Chuen?" He laughed his amusement."Geographically, they are within the White Tsar's domain; butpolitically, no. I doubt if they ever heard of him. Remember, theinterior of North-Eastern Siberia is hidden in the polar gloom, a terraincognita, where few men have gone and none has returned."

  "But you--"

  "I chance to be the exception. Why I was spared, I do not know. Itjust so happened. At first I was vilely treated, beaten by the womenand children, clothed in vermin-infested mangy furs, and fed on refuse.They were utterly heartless. How I managed to survive is beyond me;but I know that often and often, at first, I meditated suicide. Theonly thing that saved me during that period from taking my own life wasthe fact that I quickly became too stupefied and bestial, what of mysuffering and degradation. Half-frozen, half-starved, undergoinguntold misery and hardship, beaten many and many a time intoinsensibility, I became the sheerest animal.

  "On looking back much of it seems a dream. There are gaps which mymemory cannot fill. I have vague recollections of being lashed to asled and dragged from camp to camp and tribe to tribe. Carted aboutfor exhibition purposes, I suppose, much as we do lions and elephantsand wild men. How far I so journeyed up and down that bleak region Icannot guess, though it must have been several thousand miles. I doknow that when consciousness returned to me and I really became myselfagain, I was fully a thousand miles to the west of the point where Iwas captured.

  "It was springtime, and from out of a forgotten past it seemed Isuddenly opened my eyes. A reindeer thong was about my waist and madefast to the tail-end of a sled. This thong I clutched with both hands,like an organ-grinder's monkey; for the flesh of my body was raw and ingreat sores from where the thong had cut in.

  "A low cunning came to me, and I made myself agreeable and servile.That night I danced and sang, and did my best to amuse them, for I wasresolved to incur no more of the maltreatment which had plunged me intodarkness. Now the Deer Men traded with the Sea Men, and the Sea Menwith the whites, especially the whalers. So later I discovered a deckof cards in the possession of one of the women, and I proceeded tomystify the Chow Chuen with a few commonplace tricks. Likewise, withfitting solemnity, I perpetrated upon them the little I knew of parlorlegerdemain. Result: I was appreciated at once, and was better fed andbetter clothed.

  "To make a long story short, I gradually became a man of importance.First the old people and the women came to me for advice, and later thechiefs. My slight but rough and ready knowledge of medicine andsurgery stood me in good stead, and I became indispensable. From aslave, I worked myself to a seat among the head men, and in war andpeace, so soon as I had learned their ways, was an unchallengedauthority. Reindeer was their medium of exchange, their unit of valueas it were, and we were almost constantly engaged in cattle foraysamong the adjacent clans, or in protecting our own herds from theirinroads. I improved upon their methods, taught them better strategyand tactics, and put a snap and go into their operations which noneighbor tribe could withstand.

  "But still, though I became a power, I was no nearer my freedom. Itwas laughable, for I had over-reached myself and made myself toovaluable. They cherished me with exceeding kindness, but they werejealously careful. I could go and come and command without restraint,but when the trading parties went down to the coast I was not permittedto accompa
ny them. That was the one restriction placed upon mymovements.

  "Also, it is very tottery in the high places, and when I began alteringtheir political structures I came to grief again. In the process ofbinding together twenty or more of the neighboring tribes in order tosettle rival claims, I was given the over-lordship of the federation.But Old Pi-Une was the greatest of the under-chiefs,--a king in away,--and in relinquishing his claim to the supreme leadership herefused to forego all the honors. The least that could be done toappease him was for me to marry his daughter Ilswunga. Nay, hedemanded it. I offered to abandon the federation, but he would nothear of it. And--"

  "And?" Mrs. Schoville murmured ecstatically.

  "And I married Ilswunga, which is the Chow Chuen name for Wild Deer.Poor Ilswunga! Like Swinburne's Iseult of Brittany, and I Tristram!The last I saw of her she was playing solitaire in the Mission ofIrkutsky and stubbornly refusing to take a bath."

  "Oh, mercy! It's ten o'clock!" Mrs. Schoville suddenly cried, herhusband having at last caught her eye from across the room. "I'm sosorry I can't hear the rest, Mr. St. Vincent, how you escaped and allthat. But you must come and see me. I am just dying to hear!"

  "And I took you for a tenderfoot, a _chechaquo_," Frona said meekly, asSt. Vincent tied his ear-flaps and turned up his collar preparatory toleaving.

  "I dislike posing," he answered, matching her meekness. "It smacks ofinsincerity; it really is untrue. And it is so easy to slip into it.Look at the old-timers,--'sour-doughs' as they proudly call themselves.Just because they have been in the country a few years, they letthemselves grow wild and woolly and glorify in it. They may not knowit, but it is a pose. In so far as they cultivate salientpeculiarities, they cultivate falseness to themselves and live lies."

  "I hardly think you are wholly just," Frona said, in defence of herchosen heroes. "I do like what you say about the matter in general,and I detest posing, but the majority of the old-timers would bepeculiar in any country, under any circumstances. That peculiarity istheir own; it is their mode of expression. And it is, I am sure, justwhat makes them go into new countries. The normal man, of course,stays at home."

  "Oh, I quite agree with you, Miss Welse," he temporized easily. "I didnot intend it so sweepingly. I meant to brand that sprinkling amongthem who are _poseurs_. In the main, as you say, they are honest, andsincere, and natural."

  "Then we have no quarrel. But Mr. St. Vincent, before you go, wouldyou care to come to-morrow evening? We are getting up theatricals forChristmas. I know you can help us greatly, and I think it will not bealtogether unenjoyable to you. All the younger people areinterested,--the officials, officers of police, mining engineers,gentlemen rovers, and so forth, to say nothing of the nice women. Youare bound to like them."

  "I am sure I shall," as he took her hand. "Tomorrow, did you say?"

  "To-morrow evening. Good-night."

  A brave man, she told herself as she went bade from the door, and asplendid type of the race.