07-the wife of a king-第3部分

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　　As　a　rule；　Indian　women　do　not　make　a　practice　of　fainting　on

provocation；　but　Madeline　came　as　near　to　it　as　she　ever　had　in　her

life。　For　an　hour　she　crouched　on　the　floor；　listening　to　the　heavy

voices　of　the　men　rumbling　up　and　down　in　mimic　thunder。　Like　familiar

chords　of　childhood　melodies；　every　intonation；　every　trick　of　her

husband's　voice　swept　in　upon　her；　fluttering　her　heart　and

weakening　her　knees　till　she　lay　half…fainting　against　the　door。　It

was　well　she　could　neither　see　nor　hear　when　he　took　his　departure。

　　'When　do　you　expect　to　go　back　to　Circle　City？'　Malemute　Kid　asked

simply。

　　'Haven't　thought　much　about　it；'　he　replied。　'Don't　think　till　after

the　ice　breaks。'

　　'And　Madeline？'

　　He　flushed　at　the　question；　and　there　was　a　quick　droop　to　his　eyes。

Malemute　Kid　could　have　despised　him　for　that；　had　he　known　men

less。　As　it　was；　his　gorge　rose　against　the　wives　and　daughters　who

had　come　into　the　land；　and　not　satisfied　with　usurping　the　place　of

the　native　women；　had　put　unclean　thoughts　in　the　heads　of　the　men　and

made　them　ashamed。

　　'I　guess　she's　all　right；'　the　Circle　City　King　answered　hastily；

and　in　an　apologetic　manner。　'Tom　Dixon's　got　charge　of　my

interests；　you　know；　and　he　sees　to　it　that　she　has　everything　she

wants。'

　　Malemute　Kid　laid　hand　upon　his　arm　and　hushed　him　suddenly。　They

had　stepped　without。　Overhead；　the　aurora；　a　gorgeous　wanton；　flaunted

miracles　of　color；　beneath　lay　the　sleeping　town。　Far　below；　a

solitary　dog　gave　tongue。　The　King　again　began　to　speak；　but　the　Kid

pressed　his　hand　for　silence。　The　sound　multiplied。　Dog　after　dog　took

up　the　strain　till　the　full…throated　chorus　swayed　the　night。　To　him

who　hears　for　the　first　time　this　weird　song；　is　told　the　first　and

greatest　secret　of　the　Northland；　to　him　who　has　heard　it　often；　it　is

the　solemn　knell　of　lost　endeavor。　It　is　the　plaint　of　tortured　souls；

for　in　it　is　invested　the　heritage　of　the　North；　the　suffering　of

countless　generations…　the　warning　and　the　requiem　to　the　world's

estrays。

　　Cal　Galbraith　shivered　slightly　as　it　died　away　in　half…caught　sobs。

The　Kid　read　his　thoughts　openly；　and　wandered　back　with　him　through

all　the　weary　days　of　famine　and　disease；　and　with　him　was　also　the

patient　Madeline；　sharing　his　pains　and　perils；　never　doubting；

never　complaining。　His　mind's　retina　vibrated　to　a　score　of

pictures；　stern；　clear…cut；　and　the　hand　of　the　past　drew　back　with

heavy　fingers　on　his　heart。　It　was　the　psychological　moment。

Malemute　Kid　was　half…tempted　to　play　his　reserve　card　and　win　the

game；　but　the　lesson　was　too　mild　as　yet；　and　he　let　it　pass。　The　next

instant　they　had　gripped　hands；　and　the　King's　beaded　moccasins　were

drawing　protests　from　the　outraged　snow　as　he　crunched　down　the　hill。

　　Madeline　in　collapse　was　another　woman　to　the　mischievous　creature

of　an　hour　before；　whose　laughter　had　been　so　infectious　and　whose

heightened　color　and　flashing　eyes　had　made　her　teachers　for　the　while

forget。　Weak　and　nerveless；　she　sat　in　the　chair　just　as　she　had

been　dropped　there　by　Prince　and　Harrington。　Malemute　Kid　frowned。

This　would　never　do。　When　the　time　of　meeting　her　husband　came　to

hand；　she　must　carry　things　off　with　high…handed　imperiousness。　It　was

very　necessary　she　should　do　it　after　the　manner　of　white　women；

else　the　victory　would　be　no　victory　at　all。　So　he　talked　to　her；

sternly；　without　mincing　of　words；　and　initiated　her　into　the

weaknesses　of　his　own　sex；　till　she　came　to　understand　what　simpletons

men　were　after　all；　and　why　the　word　of　their　women　was　law。

　　A　few　days　before　Thanksgiving　Night；　Malemute　Kid　made　another　call

on　Mrs。　Eppingwell。　She　promptly　overhauled　her　feminine　fripperies；

paid　a　protracted　visit　to　the　dry…goods　department　of　the　P。　C。

Company；　and　returned　with　the　Kid　to　make　Madeline's　acquaintance。

After　that　came　a　period　such　as　the　cabin　had　never　seen　before；

and　what　with　cutting；　and　fitting；　and　basting；　and　stitching；　and

numerous　other　wonderful　and　unknowable　things；　the　male

conspirators　were　more　often　banished　the　premises　than　not。　At　such

times　the　Opera　House　opened　its　double　storm…doors　to　them。　So

often　did　they　put　their　heads　together；　and　so　deeply　did　they

drink　to　curious　toasts；　that　the　loungers　scented　unknown　creeks　of

incalculable　richness；　and　it　is　known　that　several　che…cha…quas　and

at　least　one　Old…Timer　kept　their　stampeding　packs　stored　behind　the

bar；　ready　to　hit　the　trail　at　a　moment's　notice。

　　Mrs。　Eppingwell　was　a　woman　of　capacity；　so；　when　she　turned

Madeline　over　to　her　trainers　on　Thanksgiving　Night　she　was　so

transformed　that　they　were　almost　afraid　of　her。　Prince　wrapped　a

Hudson　Bay　blanket　about　her　with　a　mock　reverence　more　real　than

feigned；　while　Malemute　Kid；　whose　arm　she　had　taken；　found　it　a

severe　trial　to　resume　his　wonted　mentorship。　Harrington；　with　the

list　of　purchases　still　running　through　his　head；　dragged　along　in　the

rear；　nor　opened　his　mouth　once　all　the　way　down　into　the　town。　When

they　came　to　the　back　door　of　the　Opera　House　they　took　the　blanket

from　Madeline's　shoulders　and　spread　it　on　the　snow。　Slipping　out　of

Prince's　moccasins；　she　stepped　upon　it　in　new　satin　slippers。　The

masquerade　was　at　its　height。　She　hesitated；　but　they　jerked　open

the　door　and　shoved　her　in。　Then　they　ran　around　to　come　in　by　the

front　entrance。









　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　III



　　'Where　is　Freda？'　the　Old…Timers　questioned；　while　the

che…cha…quas　were　equally　energetic　in　asking　who　Freda　was。　The

ballroom　buzzed　with　her　name。　It　was　on　everybody's　lips。　Grizzled

'sour…dough　boys；'　day…laborers　at　the　mines　but　proud　of　their

degree；　either　patronized　the　spruce…looking　tenderfeet　and　lied

eloquently…　the　'sour…dough　boys'　being　specially　created　to　toy

with　truth…　or　gave　them　savage　looks　of　indignation　because　of

their　ignorance。　Perhaps　forty　kings　of　the　Upper　and　Lower

Countries　were　on　the　floor；　each　deeming　himself　hot　on　the　trail　and

sturdily　backing　his　judgment　with　the　yellow　dust　of　the　realm。　An

assistant　was　sent　to　the　man　at　the　scales；　upon　whom　had　fallen

the　burden　of　weighing　up　the　sacks；　while　several　of　the　gamblers；

with　the　rules　of　chance　at　their　finger…ends；　made　up　alluring

books　on　the　field　and　favorites。

　　Which　was　Freda？　Time　and　again　the　'Greek　Dancer'　was　thought　to

have　been　discovered；　but　each　discovery　brought　panic　to　the

betting　ring　and　a　frantic　registering　of　new　wagers　by　those　who

wished　to　hedge。　Malemute　Kid　took　an　interest　in　the　hunt；　his　advent

being　hailed　uproariously　by　the　revelers；　who　knew　him　to　a　man。

The　Kid　had　a　good　eye　for　the　trick　of　a　step；　and　ear　for　the　lilt

of　a　voice；　and　his　private　choice　was　a　marvelous　creature　who

scintillated　as　the　'Aurora　Borealis。'　But　the　Greek　dancer　was　too

subtle　for　even　his　penetration。　The　majority　of　the　gold…hunters

seemed　to　have　centered　their　verdict　on　the　'Russian　Princess；'　who

was　the　most　graceful　in　the　room；　and　hence　could　be　no　other　than

Freda　Moloof。

　　During　a　quadrille　a　roar　of　satisfaction　went　up。　She　was

discovered。　At　previous　balls；　in　the　figure；　'all　hands　round；'　Freda

had　displayed　an　inimitable　step　and　variation　peculiarly　her　own。

As　the　figure　was　called；　the　'Russian　Princess'　gave　the　unique

rhythm　to　limb　and　body。　A　chorus　of　I…told…you…so's　shook　the　squared

roof…beams；　when　lo！　it　was　noticed　that　'Aurora　Borealis'　and　another

masque；　the　'Spirit　of　the　Pole；'　were　performing　the　same　trick

equally　well。　And　when　two　twin　'Sun…Dogs'　and　a　'Frost　Queen'

followed　suit；　a　second　assistant　was　dispatched　to　the　aid　of　the　man

at　the　scales。

　　Bettles　came　off　trail　in　the　midst　of　the　excitement；　descending

upon　them　in　a　hurricane　of　frost。　His　rimed　brows　turned　to　cataracts

as　he　whirled　about；　his　mustache；　still　frozen；　seemed　gemmed　with

diamonds　and　turned　the　light　in　varicolored　rays；　while　the　flying

feet　slipped　on　the　chunks　of　ice　which　rattled　from　his　moccasins　and

German　socks。　A　Northland　dance　is　quite　an　informal　affair；　the　men

of　the　creeks　and　trails　having　lost　whatever　fastidiousness　they

might　have　at　one　time　possessed；　and　only　in　the　high　official

circles　are　conventions　at　all　observed。　Here；　caste　carried　no

significance。　Millionaires　and　paupers；　dog…drivers　and　mounted

policemen　joined　hands　with　'ladies　in　the　center；'　and　swept　around

the　circle　performing　most　remarkable　capers。　Primitive　in　their

pleasure；　boisterous　and　rough；　they　displayed　no　rudeness；　but　rather

a　crude　chivalry　more　genuine　than　the　most　polished　courtesy。

　　In　his　quest　for　the　'Greek　Dancer；'　Cal　Galbraith　managed　to　get

into　the　same　set　with　the　'Russian　Princess；'　toward　whom　popular

suspicion　had　turned。　But　by　the　time　he　had　guided　her　through　one

dance；　he　was　willing　not　only　to　stake　his　millions　that　she　was

not　Freda；　but　that　he　had　had　his　arm　about　her　waist　before。　When　or

where　he　could　not　tell；　but　the　puzzling　sense　of　familiarity　so

wrought　upon　him　that　he　turned　his　attention　to　the　discovery　of

her　identity。　Malemute　Kid　might　have　aided　him　instead　of

occasionally　taking　the　Princess　for　a　few　turns　and　talking　earnestly

to　her　in　low　tones。　But　it　was　Jack　Harrington　who　paid　the

'Russian　Princess'　the　most　assiduous　court。　Once　he　drew　Cal

Galbraith　aside　and　hazarded　wild　guesses　as　to　who　she　was；　and

explained　to　him　that　he　was　going　in　to　win。　That　rankled　the

Circle　City　King；　for　man　is　not　by　nature　monogamic；　and　he　forgot

both　Madeline　and　Freda　in　the　new　quest。

　　It　was　soon　noised　about　that　the　'Russian　Princess'　was　not　Freda

Moloof。　Interest　deepened。　Here　was　a　fresh　enigma。　They　knew　Freda

though　they　could　not　find　her；　but　here　was　somebody　they　had　found

and　did　not　know。　Even　the　women　could　not　place　her；　and　they　knew

every