The frontier breeds fierce women, with narrow venomous enmities toward the foes of the house. Even if Pete suffered, Brooke should not prosper, or the boss who had failed her man. Mother dragged two five-gallon cans of petroleum from the lean-to, and staggering under their weight, poured the oil over all Brooke's harness. Breathing heavily with her labor, she carried loads of swampy hay, and cord-wood, until the _aparejos_ were but part of a bonfire. Then with a brand from the stove she set the hay alight. There should be no public shame to break Pete's heart, there should be no pack-train unless he were cargador.

Pete stood beside the ashes, searching mother's face with his slow brooding eyes. Her burning rage was gone, and she was afraid, for now she thought too late of all his loving pride in the work, the greatness of the thing which his knowledge and skill had made. _That_ she had burned. Understanding how love had made this blunder, Pete said no word.

He only knew that Bolt had paid him seven hundred dollars in cash and kind, which must be returned. In silence he turned away, and once more faced the terrible hill which led to the Hundred Mile House.

The spring was in my blood, and I could not sleep. Can any creature sleep when the spring's sweet restless air calls to all nature? The bears were about again after their winter sleep, busy with last year's berries. The deer were feasting on new gra.s.s down in the lowlands, the wolverines and cougar were sneaking homeward after the night's hunting.

Even the little birds were coming back to the north, for now and again as I strolled along the road I would hear a sleepy twitter. "Isn't it dawn yet?" "Not yet, have another nap." So I came to the brow of the great hill whence I should see the dawn.

Down in the lower country, on every pool the water-fowl lay abed, each, from the biggest goose to the littlest teal, with its head tucked under cover of a wing, and one quaint eye c.o.c.ked up to catch the glint of dawn. A wan light was spreading in the northeastern sky, and presently the snowy brow of the hill revealed its wrinkled front, its frozen runnels. The sentinels of the wild fowl saw that first gleam of coming day, called the reveille along from pool to pool, roused thunder of innumerable wings, marshaled their echelons in soaring hosts, and broke away in the northward flight of spring. Far in the east a lone moose trumpeted.

I was turning back refreshed toward my duty, when I heard something moan. The sound came from underneath a pine tree, the one at the very top of the long climb which Pete had blazed with his inscription, "Got thar." With my heart in my mouth I went to find out what was the matter, and so discovered the old cargador crouched down against the trunk.

"Pete," I asked in a very shaky voice, "what on earth's the matter?"

"Dying, mum."

"But it's too damp here. Why, you'll catch your death of cold."

"That would never do. Say, mum, how's Bolt?"

"Oh, ever so much better."

"Can't do it," said Pete, "if I died first he'd have the joke on me."

"Wouldn't you like a hot rum?"

Pete staggered to his feet. "I'd go for that," he sighed, "just like one man."

So he took my arm, and I helped him along the road.

"She burned them riggings," he said.

"Mother?"

"Yes. Brooke came inspecting them riggings, so mother burned 'em."

"Won't that be rather awkward?"

"Some. You see, mum, Bolt paid me four hundred and five dollars cash, so I come to return him the money."

I didn't quite understand. "You see, Pete," I suggested, "you and Brooke are the owners. Don't you owe half to yourself and half to Brooke?"

"Well, if that's so, I'll pay myself and owe the rest to Brooke. But then he claims the whole Star _atajo_."

"In that case you owe the whole of the money to Brooke."

"I don't mind owing Brooke." Pete felt so much better that he was able to walk without help. "Brooke's gone on to inspect mules. I wonder how he'll get on with them mules?"

As it happened, Jesse was an actual witness to Mr. Brooke's inspection of the Star mules at their pasture below his ranch. Here is his narrative:

"Mules are the most religious of all animals. They believe in the bell mare, who creates gra.s.s, water, mud holes, and mosquitoes, and leads them in the paths of virtue where they don't get any fun. And when they worship her too much she kicks them in the stomach.

"The trouble for these poor mules was that they followed a false G.o.ddess. Their bell mare Prue ought to have been old enough to know better, but at the age of twenty-three, with gray hair and bald withers, she was still female.

"She and her mules had been grazing maybe half a mile when my new stallion, young Jehoshaphat, happened along with his harem of twenty-five mares, smelling down wind for a drink. The mares looked so snug and gra.s.s-fat they could scarcely waddle, but Jehoshaphat was full of sinful pride, waltzing high steps at the sight of Prue.

"You should have seen Prue playing up innocent modesty in front of Jehoshaphat, pretending she wasn't there, making believe he was too sudden, didn't approve of the gentleman, flattering his vanity with all sorts of airs and graces. He up with his tail and showed off, prancing around pleased as Punch. Prue paraded herself along in front of the harem to spite the married mares, and all her mules came worshiping along in pursuit. Those mares gave the mules the biggest kicking you ever saw in your life.

"There was me lying on Face Rock like a little boy at a circus, and there was the performance proceeding so joyful that I never saw Brooke until he rode down right into the middle of the fun. Jehoshaphat got mad and went for Brooke, chasing him around the pasture. Prue chased Jehoshaphat, the mules chased Prue, the harem mares bit and kicked at everybody, Brooke galloped delirious in all directions, and I laughed until I could hardly hold down the rocks.

"Of course, if Brooke hadn't been a mere mistake on earth, he would have herded gently to the nearest corral, and cut the two outfits apart. But Brooke proceeded to lose his temper, pulled his gun, jumped his wretched sorrel behind a tree, and let drive. He missed the stallion. He shot Prue through the heart.

"There was nothing after that to keep the sixty Star mules together.

Some went up the canon, some down, a few even swam the Fraser, but the heft of them climbed the big cliffs and vanished into the forest.

"I reckon Pete and his _arrieros_ could collect those mules and break them to loving a new _madrina_. But with Brooke as cargador, the great Star Pack-train's numbered with the past, and Mathson's partnership is scarce worth arguing.

"I was sorry to see the fine mules lost, and in my grief I kicked Brooke about one-third of a mile on his way home afoot."

CHAPTER VI

THE BLACK NIGHT

_Kate's Narrative_

"I, Boulton Wemyss Taylor, Commander R. N., retired, being of sound mind in a dying body, do hereby make my last will and testament:

"And do appoint the lady known as Madame Scotson my sole executress and trustee of all property which I may die possessed of;

"To pay my just debts, and to administer the remainder on behalf of my grandson, James Taylor,

"Until at his coming of age he shall receive the whole estate, if there is any;

"Save only that I bequeath to Madame Scotson my sword and the Victoria Cross;

"And with regard to burial, it is my will that no money whatever shall be spent, but that my body, wrapped in the flag by right of her majesty's commission, shall be consigned to the earth by my neighbors; that no friend of mine shall be allowed to stand uncovered catching cold, or to wear unseemly black clothing at the service of the resurrection, or to toll bells which should be pealed when the soul pa.s.ses to G.o.d, or to make pretense or parade of grief for one who is glad to go."

The months of nursing were ended. No longer should Nurse Panton and I be afraid when our patient was good, or rejoice when fractious whims and difficult absurdities marked those rallies in which he fought off death.

At the last, after many hours of silence, he asked me in a boyish voice if he might go up-stairs to see his uniform. In his dreams he was leaving school to enter the royal navy.

Billy was away on an errand to the Falls, and it was Nurse Panton's watch below, when at ten in the evening I saw the change come very suddenly. The face of my dear friend, no longer old, but timeless, reflected an unearthly majesty.

For the next hour I was busy rendering the last services, in haste, for the lamp had a most peculiar smell. I took it away and lighted candles, but it was not the lamp. Spreading the Union Jack upon the bed, I bolted from that room. For a time I sat in the dining-hall but could not stay there. Even in the barroom I still had to fight off something intangible, a sense of being watched, a presentiment of evil coming swiftly nearer.