Graham guardian., 1922-05-23
VICTOR ROUSSEAUl Il
Illustrations by. RHLivingstone y

tiny tear in 1t, over the breast. A
triekle of blood seeped through the
cloth. He wrenched the garment open
with his right hand, pulled up the
sweater, and tore the shirt apart. The
heart, Huttering like wounded bird
stopped under his hand. Joe sighed
once, but he never stirred again, The
bullet had passed clean through Joe
Bostock's heart from the back. And,
as he tried to raise Joe's body, Wilton
realized that the same bullet had
broken his left arm, which hung limp
from the shoulder.
He sprang TO his feet, mad
wrath giving back to him his ebbing
strength. He glared about him, but
1t was impossible TO ascertain from
where the shot had come. He could
not even locate the direction within
a hundred degrees, for Joe had been in
the act Of turning. Nobody was In
sight, and the woods were silent
His believing call Of fury that went
echoing through the trees ELECTED no
answer. He tore strips from his hand
kerchief, holding II between his teeth.
and, with his left hand on his knee.
knotted them about stick and i'm
provised tourniquet. The blood was
squirting down his sleeve in Jets, the
pain was intense. and II was impos
sible to take Off the mackinaw and
hope TO replace his arms In IL; but
he twisted with all his force until the
diminishing flow showed that he had
compressed the artery. Thrusting the
longer end OF the stick beneath his
armpit, he passed the other through
the buttonhole OF the garment. and.
STOPPING, managed to get Joe's body
upon his shoulder and to hold II with
his right arm.
His impulse was to carry Joe's body
back to the camp, but he knew that 1t
would be impossible to make the dis
tance. Yet to leave 1t would mean
the certainty OF mutilat!on by bears
or dmber-woives unless he could
build calrr OF stones. And of that
be was equally incapable. He set
Joe's body down, and. In the first full
realization OF his loss and his predica-
ment, he shouted curses to the sky.
That murder had been intended he
did not believe; no doubt the shot had
been a bullet fred at some nearer
mark, perhaps hare, and by one Of
the half-hreeds He suspected that
the translt-bearer, following them up,
had fred the shot and, seeing the IA
tality, had fed.
But the thought that this might be
the explanation was only a feetlng
one. Joe was dead. and his body must
be cared for, just as II he were alive
taken back to the camp and thence
out of the woods There was no pos.
sibility Of leaving Joe's body there.
Yet II seemed TO him that he could
not hope to reach the camp. And
now another idea came TO him.
II was seyen miles back to the camp,
but only five TO the portage over the
frozen swamp. Upon the other side
OF the portage was trail that came
out Of the prairie southwark and
wound into the unknown north.
Along this Indians brought their win
ter catches to the trading-store of
Mcdonald. the factor of the Hudson's
Bay company.
Travelling was hard along the shore
Of the great Muskeg, but 1t would
mean two miles less. and II was just
possible to make the store. McDon-
aid was a queer. taciturn, sometimes
venomous old man, and had evinced a
strong dislike Of Wilton on the occa-
sion Of their last meeting. Yet Nc
Donald would shelter him and receive
Joe's body. And then there was Molly,
his daughter.
Wilton, having made his choice, act
ed on IL at once. With a great effort
he raised Joe's stiffeniRg form upon
his shoulder; and doggediy he began
his awful Journey, his right arm grasp
Ing the dead man. his helpless left
hhgging the tourniquet-stick against
his side.