The Mistress of Bonaventure. Bindloss Harold
The fugitive had just reached the timber when a light wagon lurched out from it, and I yelled to the man who drove it to hold clear of my path. There was a hoarse shout away to the left, and, when no answer came back, the crack of a carbine. A repeating rifle banged against my back, and, feeling that its sling lay within easy reach, I drove my heels home as I raced past the wagon.
There was scarcely time for a side glance, but the one I risked set my heart beating. Two feminine figures wrapped in furs sat within it, and one smiled at me as I passed. The face that looked out from beneath the fur cap was worth remembering, though it was several years since I had last seen it in England. Haldane had brought his daughters with him when he came out from Montreal to visit his Western possessions, it seemed; but my horse was over the brink of the declivity before I could return the greeting, and, bending low to clear the branches, I drove him reeling and blundering down and down through willow undergrowth and scattered birches on the track of the fugitive. I was but a plain rancher, and it seemed presumptuous folly to neglect my lawful business for a smile from Beatrice Haldane.
It was growing dark among the birches, and flakes of feathery snow sliding down between the branches filled my eyes, but I could see that the distance between us was shortening more rapidly and that the man in front of me reeled in his saddle when a branch smote him. The mare also stumbled, and I gained several lengths. The drumming of hoofs and the moan of an icy wind which had sprung up seemed to fill all the hollow. White mist that slid athwart the birches hung over the Sweetwater in the rift beneath, and – for the river had lately burst its chains of ice – I felt sure that the man I followed would never make the crossing. Yet it appeared certain that he meant to attempt it, for he rode straight at the screen of willows that fringed the water's edge, vanished among them, and I heard a crackling as his weary beast smashed through the shoreward fringe of honeycombed ice. Then I saw nothing, for rattling branches closed about me as the horse feebly launched himself at the leap, while a denser whiteness thickened the mist. So far fortune had favored me throughout the reckless ride; but it is not wise to tempt fate too hardly, and the beast pitched forward when his hoofs descended upon bare frozen ground.
Had I worn boots my neck might have paid the penalty, but the soft moccasins slipped free of the stirrups in time, and when I came down the horse rolled over several yards clear of me. He was up next moment, but moved stiffly, and stood still, trembling, when I grasped the bridle. The saddle had slipped sideways, as though a girth buckle had yielded, and I felt faint and dizzy, for the fall had shaken me. Nevertheless, I unslung the rifle mechanically, when a hail reached me, and, turning, I saw the man we had followed sitting still in his saddle, some twoscore yards away, with the steam frothing white to his horse's knees. The daylight had almost gone, the snow was commencing in earnest, but I could make out that he was bareheaded and his face smeared with crimson, perhaps from a wound the branch had made. It looked drawn and ghastly as he sat stiffly erect against a background of hurrying water and falling snow, with one hand on his hip and the other raised as though to command attention.
"You are Rancher Ormesby, whose horse I borrowed, I presume?" he said. "Well, if you are wise you will give up the chase before worse befalls you. I am armed, and I give you fair warning that I do not mean to be taken. Go home to your stove and comforts. You have no quarrel with me."
The clean English accent surprised me, and the rifle lay still in the hollow of my left arm as I answered him: "Do you forget you are sitting on the best mare I possess? The loss of several hundred dollars is more than I can put up with; and your warning sounds rather empty when I could hardly fail to pick you off with this rifle."
I listened for the troopers' coming, but could hear only the fret of the river and the moaning of the blast, for the wind was rising rapidly. It was evident that the beast whose bridle I held was in no fit state to attempt the crossing, and yet, though the stranger's cool assurance was exasperating, I began to be conscious of a certain admiration and pity for him. The man was fearless. He had been hunted like a wolf; and now, left, worn out, wounded, and doubtless faint from want of food, to face the wild night in the open, he had, it seemed, risked his last chance of escape to warn me when he might have taken me at a disadvantage.
He laughed recklessly. "Still, I hardly think you will. The mare is done, and I pledge my word I'll turn her loose as soon as I'm clear of the troopers. I have no grudge against you, but if you are wise you will take no further chances with a desperate man. Go home, and be thankful you have a place to shelter you."
There would have been no great difficulty in bringing the man down at that range, even in a bad light, and it is probable that nobody would have blamed me; but, though I should willingly have ridden him down in fair chase, I could not fire on him as he sat there at my mercy, for if he was armed it must have been with a pistol – a very poor weapon against a rifle. I might also have shot the horse; but one hesitates to sacrifice a costly beast, even in the service of the State, and, strange to say, I felt inclined to trust his promise. Accordingly, I did neither; and when a great ice cake came driving down, and, raising his hand again as though in recognition of my forbearance, he wheeled the mare and vanished into a thicker rush of snow, I stood motionless and let him go. Then, feeling more shaken and dizzy than before, I seized the bridle and led the horse into the whirling whiteness that drove down the slope. Darkness came suddenly. I could scarcely see the trees, and it was by accident I stumbled upon the troopers dismounted and picking their way.
"Have ye seen him?" asked an object which looked like a polar bear and proved to be the sergeant.
"Yes," I answered shortly, deciding that it would not be well to fully explain how I had let our quarry slip through my fingers. "If he has not drowned himself in the river he has got away. I was close upon him when my horse fell and threw me badly. Are you going to try the crossing, too?"
There are few bolder riders than the Northwest troopers, but Mackay shook his head. "I'm thinking it would be a useless waste of Government property an' maybe of a trooper's life," he said. "No man could find him in this snow, and if he lives through the night, which is doubtful, we'll find his trail plain in the morning. We'll just seek shelter with Haldane at Bonaventure."
I do not know how we managed to find the Bonaventure ranch. The wind had suddenly freshened almost to a gale, and, once clear of the river hollow, we met the full force of it. The snow that whirled across the desolate waste filled our eyes and nostrils, rendering breathing difficult and sight almost impossible; but it may be that the instinct of the horses helped us, for, making no effort at guidance, I trudged on, clinging to the bridle of my limping beast, while half-seen spectral objects floundered through the white haze on each side. Nevertheless, the pain which followed the impact of the flakes on one side of my half-frozen face showed that we were at least progressing in a constant direction, and at last Trooper Cotton raised a hoarse halloo as a faint ray of light pierced the obscurity. Then shadowy buildings loomed ahead, and, blundering up against a wire fence, we staggered, whitened all over, to the door of Bonaventure.
It was flung wide open at our knock, banged to again, and while a trooper went off with the horses to the stable the rest of us, partly stupefied by the change of temperature, stood in the lamp-lit hall shaking the white flakes from us. A man of middle age, attired in a fashion more common in the cities than in the West, stretched out his hand to me.
"I am glad to see you, Ormesby; and, of course, you and your companions will spend the night here," he said cordially. "My girls told me they had met you, and we were partly expecting your company. Apparently the malefactor got away, Sergeant Mackay?"
"We did not bring him with us, but he'll not win far this weather," was the somewhat rueful answer. The master of Bonaventure smiled a little.
"He deserves to escape if he can live through such a night; and I'm inclined to be sorry for the poor devil," he said. "However, you have barely time to get into dry things before supper will be ready. We expect you all to join us, prairie fashion."
The welcome was characteristic of Carson Haldane, who could win the goodwill of most men, either on the prairie or in the exclusive circles of Ottawa and Montreal. It was also characteristic that he called the evening meal, as we did, supper; though when he was present a state of luxury, wholly unusual on the prairie, reigned at Bonaventure.
CHAPTER II
BONAVENTURE