The Trail of the Golden Horn/Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
Hugo to the Rescue
HUGO, the trapper, was late, and he was speeding along with great swinging strides. He was alone, for he had left his dog fastened in his little cabin up on the mountain side. He had a reason for this, as his mission that day had been of extreme importance, and complete silence had to be maintained. He was in no enviable frame of mind as he strode through the night, and any enemy, whether man or beast, attempting to interfere with him would have found in him a desperate opponent. He had been watching another trail that day and what he had seen filled his heart with a burning rage, mingled with a nameless fear. He felt as he did that night when he had bounded from the cabin into the storm. Notwithstanding his strength and astuteness, he always shrank from the Police, considering them his bitterest enemies. So that day as he had watched forms speeding along behind their dogs, he knew who they were, and surmised the mission upon which they were bent.
He had swung up from the valley and was about to cross the trail, known as the “Cut-Off,” between Big Chance and The Gap, when a shot arrested his attention, causing him to stop abruptly. The report came from the left, and keenly he peered in that direction. Seeing and hearing nothing more, he moved cautiously forward. Not a sound did he make as he glided among the trees, keeping a short distance from the trail above. Ere long he again stopped, for a glimmer of light fell upon his eyes. Then he heard the snarling of dogs, and at once realised that trouble of some kind was just ahead. Slowly advancing, the light became brighter, and a few more steps showed him the women crouching near the lean-to with the dogs huddled at their feet. In an instant he grasped the meaning of the situation. His rifle, already in his hands, he gripped more firmly, and waited. He could not see the wolves but he know that they were there. When, however, Zell fired the second and the third shots, he caught a glimpse of the brutes as they fell back with yelps and angry snarls.
Who the women were Hugo could not tell, not being able to see their faces, which were partly hidden by the lean-to. He surmised, however, that they were Indians, and he wondered what had become of the men. Noticing that the wolves were becoming bolder, and evidently preparing for an attack, he moved a little nearer, stepping somewhat to the right for a better sight. As he did so he gave a start, for at once Marion’s face was exposed to view. In an instant he recognized her, and the form of his countenance changed. The defiant light faded from his eyes and was replaced by an expression of deep concern. For a few seconds he stood there as still as the trees around him. What he saw stirred his inmost depths, and brought back memories of other days. She was his own child, yet he must not go to her. All he could do was to protect her from those brutes of the forest.
He was aroused by a cry of fear. Glancing to the right he saw a great wolf advancing within the ring of light, flanked to the right and left by the rest of the pack. Zell fired another shot, but missed. The leader drew back with a savage snarl, and was about to spring forward when Hugo brought his rifle to his shoulder and fired. With a wild yell the wolf leaped into the air, and dropped upon the ground. Taken aback, his followers hesitated and one by one they fell before the unerring shots of the unseen marksman. Not until five had fallen did the rest retreat, and then slowly and wrathfully they drew away among the darkness of the forest. But Hugo’s blood was now up and he feared the wolves as if they were so many kittens. He stepped quickly toward them, refilling the magazine of his rifle as he did so. He could see their slinking forms now, and again into their midst he poured messages of death. Yells of pain and baffled rage followed each shot. The few remaining wolves faced the trapper, but ere they could spring, they, too, were rolling in the snow. It was a veritable carnage of death from which only one brute escaped by leaping aside and dashing off pell-mell among the trees.
When the fight was over, a grim smile overspread Hugo’s face. Then he turned toward the surprised and staring women.
He was upon the point of stepping forward and calming their fears by telling them that the danger was past. He changed his mind, however, drew back a few paces among the trees, and stood with his eyes fixed intently upon Marion’s face. A great longing was tugging at his heart such as he had not known for years. He recalled the days he had played with her in his old happy home. She had changed since then, but she was his child. How often he had thought of her during his wanderings and long lonely night vigils. In fact, she had been seldom out of his mind. His affection for her had saved him from developing into a brute, causing him to perform numerous deeds of humanity, the surprise of many people. So standing there, hidden by the trees and the night, he feasted his eyes upon her face. After a while he turned away, reached the trail, and sped rapidly along in the direction of The Gap. At length he turned aside, plunged through a heavy thicket of firs and jack-pines, crossed a narrow strip of wild meadow, and climbed a steep hill until he came to a small cabin tucked away amidst the trees. He opened the door and entered. He then lighted a couple of candles, and built a fire in the little sheet-iron camping stove. The dog was most profuse in its welcome, leaping upon him, and giving expression to yelps of delight. Hugo fondled the animal, his eyes beaming with pleasure.
“Good old Pedro,” he said. “You missed me, eh? And I missed you. But strange things are afoot these days, old boy, so we must be careful.”
When supper was over and the dog fed, Hugo lighted his pipe, stretched himself upon the bunk near the fire, and gave himself up to anxious thought. He reviewed the events of the day, especially his recent encounter with the wolves. What were the women doing there? he asked himself over and over again. And where were they going? What could bring Marion so far into the wilderness? It must be of more than ordinary importance, for he had never known a white woman to venture such a distance from Kynox, especially in the dead of winter. The more he thought about it, the more disturbed he became. Had it been any other woman it would not have mattered so much to him. But she was his own daughter, and his heart was deeply stirred.
For over an hour Hugo lay there wrapt in thought. He then rose to his feet and paced up and down the small room. Several times he went to the door and looked out in the direction where the women were camped. An uneasy feeling was tugging at his heart which he could not banish. He called himself a fool, blew out the candles, and threw himself down again upon the bunk. But he could not sleep. His thoughts were ever down the trail as he pictured those two women alone in the night. Perhaps more wolves had returned, for he knew that several packs were on the move of late. And if not wolves, there were creatures more to be feared where helpless women were concerned. It was most unlikely that men would be prowling around, he reasoned. But who could tell? The absence of those women must surely be known at Big Chance, and there were men there capable of any deed of villainy.
At length he sprang to his feet, pulled on his heavy outer jacket and cap, seized his snow-shoes, and ordering the dog to stay behind, he left the cabin, and hurried down the trail. It took him but a few minutes to come near the camping ground, where he moved most cautiously, peering keenly ahead. Although he approached most silently, the dogs scented his presence. They leaped to their feet and growled ferociously. Hugo paid little heed to the brutes, his attention being centred upon a lone figure huddled before the fire. Instinctively he realised that something was the matter, so stepping into the circle of light he rapidly approached. Marion saw him coming, recognized him at once, and with a cry of joy sprang to her feet. So overcome was she that she tottered and would have fallen had not Hugo leaped forward and caught her in his arms. Just for a few luxurious seconds he held her close, and then laid her tenderly upon the wolf-skin robe. Marion was deadly pale, and she was trembling violently. The strain of the night had unnerved her, and this sudden and unexpected meeting with her father was more than she could endure. As she lay there, she kept her eyes fixed upon his face. Then her lips moved as if she would speak. This Hugo noted, and he bent toward her.
“What is the matter?” he asked. “Why are you alone? Where is that girl? You seem almost frightened to death.”
“And so I am,” was the low reply. “Oh, this has been a terrible night! We were attacked by wolves, and when they were about to spring upon us, somebody shot them, and saved us.”
“I know all about that,” and Hugo nodded his head. “I happened along just at the right moment.”
“Was it really you?” Marion asked in surprise, drawing herself up with an effort to a sitting position. “And have you seen Zell? Do you know where she is?”
“The girl who was with you?” Hugo asked. “Where did she go?”
“She went just a short distance over there after some dry wood,” Marion explained, motioning to the right. “But she hasn’t come back, and I am afraid that something has happened to her. Perhaps the wolves caught her.”
“Didn’t you hear any noise?”
“Not a sound.”
“Did you call to her?”
“Oh, yes. I called to her for a long time, but could get no answer.”
“Four-legged wolves didn’t get her,” Hugo emphatically declared, while a fierce expression leaped into his eyes. “She would have given a cry of distress if they had.”
“Why, what could have happened to her, then?”
“That remains to be seen. There are worse creatures than four-legged wolves prowling around at times, especially where attractive women are concerned.”
Marion understood the meaning of these words, and her thoughts flashed at once to Bill, the Slugger. Could it be possible that he had been following them, and had seized the half-breed girl and carried her off ere she could give a cry of warning? She recalled what Zell had told her about Bill, and his hatred to Tim. She felt weaker and more helpless than ever as she thought of these things.
“What are we to do?” she asked in a despairing voice. Then in a few words she confessed her fears to her father.
“And it was Bill who shot Tim, you say?” he asked.
“That is what Zell told me. Out of revenge, so I understand.”
“Was there any other reason?”
“I believe so.”
Hugo remained silent for a few minutes, lost in thought. Marion watched him closely, and tried to see in his face the resemblance she had known and loved years before. She thought of all that he had meant to her and to her mother, and how he had provided for them through the years. And how he must have suffered the long separation from those so dear to him. What mental agony must have been his. And suppose he had done what was wrong, he was her father. A sudden rush of affection swept upon her as she gazed upon that stern, sad face. The deep wrinkles upon his brow told their own silent tale. No matter what he had done, he had surely paid the price over and over again.
“Father,” she cried, impetuously reaching out her arms. “I want you as I used to want you as a child.”
For an instant only did Hugo hesitate. He then stooped and allowed Marion to encircle his neck with her arms, and impress a kiss upon his forehead. His great form trembled and his eyes were misty. In another minute he freed himself, stepped back, and stood erect before his daughter.
“You should not do that,” he told her.
“Do what?”
“Kiss me. Am I not an outcast? Have I not been hounded from place to place? Are not the Police always watching to seize me?”
“But you are my father,” Marion reminded, “and no matter what you have done I can never forget that.”
Hugo was about to reply, but words seemed suddenly to fail him. He stood staring off into the blackness of the forest as if he beheld something there.
“Won’t you come with me?” Marion asked, wondering at his silence. “We can leave this country, go outside, and you can begin life all over again.”
“No, no!” Hugo fiercely replied. Then his manner changed. “You are tired, worn out. Come with me to my little cabin, and when you have rested we will talk about this. I have kept you here too long already.”
“But what about Zell?” Marion asked. “She might come back.”
“Not likely,” was the reply. “Anyway, we can’t help her just now.”