The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1879-12-20

the newly fallen snow, were the tracks,
the dragging of the heel of the shoe in
the light snow plainly visible. Not
word said McAlpins. Silently he point
ed to the evidence of the truth of his
story. Clustering around the signs OF q
fellow creature, the Indians carefully
examined the marks. The make
of the shoe was unknown to
them. Matonabee, who had fingered
behind to set partridge snares, soon
came up. After much thought and re-
peated examination of the imprint OF
the mesh and frame of the shoe, he de-
clared it to be of the make of the Dog
Ribbed Indians. The stride showed
that the footprint was woman's, and
not one of the demons of the icy high
lands to lure them to destruction. What
could a woman of the Dog Ribbed tribe,
hereditary foes of the Athabascas, be
doing, alone, in their country?
Speculation was ended by McAlpine
suggesting that the trail be followed.
Spreading out, fan-like, eyes and ears
alert, they advanced up the snow-bound
valley of the Red Deer River, ever
watchful for an ambuscade. After
marching several miles the Red River
turned abruptly to the west; the south
ern slope of the valley, losing its pre-
cipitous character, gradually sloped
back to the mountainous mass to the
southwest; the northern wall became
more precipitous, and lowered many
hundreds of feet above the stream. At
its foot, sheltered from the cruel north
winds, and protected from the east
winds by a great mass of fallen rock,
stood little grove of spruce. To the
west, a well defined pass in the mount
aims admitted the balmy Chinook winds
of the Pacific. Nestled in the evergreens
at the foot of the wall was hut, neatly
made with the trunks of small trees,
cunningly chinked with moss and grass,
and slilfully covered with bark. Blush
smoke rose from the house in tiny col
umn, hung an instant, then was dissi-
pated by the light currents that eddied
above the grove. Hating, the eager
Athabascas, who had already scented
blood, carefully scanned the hut and its
surroundings. McAlpine, the cold, hard
Scot, with the prudence of his race,
scanned more carefully than his COM
panions. Though it was in the terri
tory of the Hudson Bay Company, and
he was a factor, long observation had
taught him that as important person as
factor could be killed as easily as an
Indian. So he was discreet as to hos
tile arrows. Careful observation of
many keen eyes failed to discover any
sign, excepting the smoke, that the
house was inhabited. There was an
absence of dogs, those scavengers of In
dian camps.
The Indians with bent bows and war
arrows drawn to the heads in their
hands, and McAlpine with cooked
fiint-lock muskct in his hands, advanced
cautiously to the house, and stealthily
surrounded it. Looking through holes
made by noiselessly removing portions
of the messy thinking, they saw whatf
"a young and beautiful woman dressed
in robe of rabbit skins, tastefully Or
namented with quilts of porcupine and
feathers of grouse. She was cheerfully
singing in low, mellow voice as she
twisted the inner bark of the willow into
the Irvine used by the Hog Ribbed In
dams to make fishing-nets. Under the
loose robe of rabbit fur, and fitting tightly
to her superb form, was a garment made
of beaver fur. There were no children
in the hut-only the woman cheerfully
singing and working at the twine max
ing. The courage of the crackers sud-
denly arose. They burst in the frail
door. Raising her dark eyes she saw
| the warriors. She sat with outstretched
arms still holding the thread she was
twisting, as if she were instantly
changed into bronze. Not a muscle
quivered until her terrified brain
grasped the full extent of the misfor-
tune that had befallen her. The dis
mayed woman, as she recovered mo-
ton, covered her face with her hands,
and bending forward silently awaited
her fate.
The fire burned brightly. On peg
driven in the wall hung, in festoons,
grouse; dressed porcupine hung on
another; the unconsumed portion of a
beaver on another. Before the fire,
spitted on sharp sticks, meat was cook
ing. In one corner was great guam
tity of fine moss, confined by barked
logs held in place by pins driven into
the earth. Neatly folded, and lying on
the moss, were several robes made of
beaver fur. McAlpine and the Atha-
bascas stood silently looking at the
scene. Gradually the bows unbent, the
flintlock had its printing methodically
spilled out into McAlpine's hand, and
economically replaced in his powder
horn. Coolly was it unlocked. The
crackers of the woman crowded into
her little hut, and speaking to her were
astonished Mt her answering them in
their own tongue. This is the story
she told, not all at once, but in bits, as
it was prompted by anxiety to propi-
tate her captors, to save herself punish
ment or outrage.
Her name was Wakuzza. She, her
husband and his three brothers and