"Fetch 'im," said Old Pete. "Why should he stay away. I guess he'll be needed."

And so it was decided that several should go in search of Pritchen and bring him as quickly as possible. This was received with evident satisfaction on both sides, and operations for a time were suspended.

Pritchen was found in his cabin, and expressed himself as quite unwilling to attend the Council. His face told most plainly the state of his mind, which was far from enviable. At times the longing seized him to flee into the wilderness--anywhere would be better than Kla.s.san he thought. But this he knew was not practicable, for the Indian hunters, with the instinct of sleuth hounds, would track him down in a short time. While he waited and listened the messengers drew near.

"I'll not go, d-- you!" he cried. "Leave me alone, can't you?"

"Well, if you won't come peaceably," replied one, "we'll not try to force you now. But I think it's better for you to come quietly along with us than to have the gang to come after you. There'll be no coaxing if they come, I tell you that."

Pritchen fully realized the truth of these words, so after a few moments of hesitation he agreed to comply with the request.

As he drew near to the Council ground a nameless fear took possession of him. He saw the miners shrug their shoulders as he took his place among them. They seemed to forget his presence, however, as they turned their attention to the old chief to watch his next move.

Neither did they have to wait long, for with much deliberation and many gestures, the h.o.a.ry patriarch began his harangue.

First, he invoked the aid of the Great Father of Heaven upon the gathering. Then he told of the n.o.bleness of his race, of the mighty men and warriors who had died. He described the vastness of the land which they had owned from time immemorial. He next gave an account of their wild condition before the arrival of the missionary.

"We were brutes," he said in substance, flourishing his arm in an eloquent manner. "We had many wives and treated them worse than dogs.

They cut and drew our wood; they brought in the moose, when killed, into camp, and waited upon us, doing our slightest bidding. When they refused to work we beat them, and when too old to toil we turned them out to die, or left them on the trail. Our wives, dreading such a life for their little girl babies, often killed them and we thought nothing of it.

"We robbed, cheated, fought and killed one another. Our hearts were always bad, all same black bear. We were like men walking at night in a thick wood, lost and unable to find our way out. Oh, it was a bad time! Then the teacher came to us from beyond the great mountains. He lived in our midst, and learned our language. At first we treated him very badly and tried to kill him, but we could not, for something stopped us. When we shot at him the arrows and b.a.l.l.s went wide. When we threw our knives and hatchets they did not touch him. When we broke down his cabin and stole from him, he prayed for us, and built a new house. When we were sick, he healed us. When we wanted food he shared with us of his own supply. He led us slowly out of the wood. He told us about Christ and another life. He taught us how to build good cabins, and live as true Christians. Thus the Spirit came to us like the breath of Spring, and thawed and warmed our cold hearts. New, sweet flowers of love, truth, purity and peace sprang up, which choked and killed the bad weeds. We put away our old manner of living. We cared for our children, treated our wives better, built a church, school room and store. We lived happier, with plenty to eat and to wear, and looked forward to another life after death. Then the miners came; they built cabins in our midst, dug our land for gold, and tried to ruin our young men and women. They drove away our teacher, and burnt our store. Our men have come back from the hunting grounds; they find what has been done, and are very angry.

"'Are we not men?' say they. 'We will fight and drive out the strangers.' But the Spirit conquers; it holds them back. 'Call a Council,' it says. 'Gather the white men, and let them punish the ones who injured us.'

"In your midst stands one man who has caused all the trouble. His heart is bad, like the heart of a black bear. He wronged our teacher; he stole gold; he put it in the mission house; hid it there. He said our teacher did it. He laughed at him, and drove him from Kla.s.san. He is there! He is there!" and the chief stretched out his hand and pointed straight at Pritchen, who shrank back as from a terrific blow.

The speaker was about to proceed, but ere he could utter another word Old Pete sprang forward, and with blazing eyes confronted the Indian who had made this serious charge.

"Tell me!" he cried, "is it true? Is it true what ye say about the missionary? Is the skunk among us what done that deed? Tell me, quick!"

"Over there," replied Amos, pointing to the wretched Pritchen.

"It's a lie! A d-- lie, I tell you!" shouted the latter. "I know nothing about it! The Injun hates me, and wants to ruin me. Let them prove it, if they can! They can't do it!"

Pete was about to turn towards him with angry words on his lips, when cries of rage from the miners caused him to hesitate, and to realize his position. The men were thoroughly aroused, he knew that, and ready to fall upon the villain without more ado. That the scoundrel needed a severe punishment there was no doubt, but he wished to be just and not let the base mob instinct rule.

"B'ys!" he shouted, "jist wait a leetle, afore ye do anything rash.

Let the Injun prove to us first what he says is true. It may be all imagination."

"Injun speak true," said Amos somewhat indignant to think that the chief's words should be doubted.

"What ye say may be kerrect," replied Pete, "but all we ax is fer ye to show yer proof. How d'ye's know that Pritchen put the gold in the cabin?"

"Jennie see 'um."

"Jennie who?"

"Jennie. Yukon Jennie. Injun squaw. She see 'um. She tell old chief."

"Whar is she then?" and Pete looked around as if expecting to see the girl.

"Up dere," and Amos stretched out his hand towards the Indian lodges.

"Fetch her down. We'll wait."

"No squaw come to Council. Only men, hunters."

"But this ain't all Injun Council. White men here, an' they ax fer the gal."

When this was communicated to the chief, a scowl pa.s.sed over his face, and a sharp discussion took place among the Indians. What they said the miners could not tell, but after much bickering Amos lifted up his voice and gave several short calls in the direction of the lodges.

Soon a reply was returned, and then down the trail sped Jennie towards the Council ground. As she drew near her steps slackened, for was she not breaking a custom of long standing among her people? Encouraged by Amos, she at length reached the place, and was requested to relate her story.

So intent were the miners upon their task that they scarcely noticed the change which had taken place around them, or how the time was pa.s.sing. The wind had risen, moaning gently at first, but increasing in strength, blowing in from the Yukon, and drawing up the Kaslo as through a mighty funnel. It shook and swayed the trees along the banks of the stream; it played with the old chief's blanket, causing him to clutch it firmly, and tossed Jennie's long black hair in confusion about her oval, dusky face.

Timidly the maiden stood before the expectant miners, uncertain what to say.

"Speak out, gal," encouraged Pete. "Ye needn't fear. Nothin'll harm ye."

"Hold on!" called out one of the miners. "Wouldn't it be as well for Bill to stand forth so all can see him?"

"Hear, hear!" shouted the men.

But Pritchen shrank back, and glanced around as if seeking some avenue of escape.

"No, ye don't do that, man," said Caribou Sol, interpreting his thoughts. "Not till we're through with ye, at any rate."

Pritchen was in a trap, he fully realized that, and a wild rage mingled with his fear. He reached for his revolver, but it was not there.

Anyway it would have been of little use, for instantly a score of revolvers leaped from as many hip pockets, and covered him in the twinkling of an eye.

"Come out here!" roared Pete, "an' stand up like a man. Thar's no use kickin'."

There was nothing else to be done, and sulkily Pritchen stepped forward and faced the Indian girl.

"Thar, that's better. Now go ahead," continued Pete, turning to Jennie.

The latter, however, did not speak, but stood staring at Pritchen, as a bird fascinated by a serpent.

"De' ye know that man?" demanded the prospector, seeing her embarra.s.sment.

"Yes. Me know 'um," came the low reply.

"Whar did ye fust see 'im?"

"Heem bad man; bad heart. Heem keel my modder long tam ago."

"It's a lie!" shouted Pritchen.

"Jennie no lie. Me see 'um."

A movement among the miners was quieted by Pete's next question.