Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THURSDAT, IKvlCfc rVAUEy 7VOICES GEORGE MARSH »V ' AUTHOR. OF " TOILERS OF THE TRAIL " " THE WHELPS OF THF WOLF ^.JCOPYRIOHT by THE PENN PUBLISHING CO SYNOPSIS CHAPTER I.—With David. hal(-br««d eulde, Brent Steele, of the American Muaaum of Natural History, la travel* Ins in northern Canada. By a stream he hears Denise, daughter of Col. Hilaire St. Onge, factor at Walling River, play the violin superbly. He introduces himself and accepts an in^ vltation to make the post his home during hla stay. From St. Onge h'e learns of the mysterious creature of evil, the “Wlndlgo," and the disap pearance of a canoe and its crew, with the season's take of furs. CHAPTER II.—Steele hears the ‘‘Win* dlgo.” David and Michel, St. Onge's head-man, leave for the scene of the' canoe's disappearance. St. Onge tells Steele that Lascelles, the company’s manager at Fort Albany, seeks his ruin In order to compel Denise to mar ry him to save her father. CHAPTER III.—Hearing her vtelln playing, Steele realizes that Denise Is sacrificing a brilliant musical career to comfort her father. David and Michel return, but are uncommunicative. CHAPTER IV.—Tete-Boule, Indian la St. Onge's employ, is caught listening to Steele's talk with David and Michel, and roughly handled. Steele learns that Louis Laflamme, factor at Ogoke, has made appllcatlomto her father tor B the hand of Denise, ^ ’ CHAPTER V.—Pierre, Indian from goke, visits the Wailing River post, ^stensibly for gun shells. David and Michel are suspicious of him. CHAPTER VI.—Lascelles visits Wall ing River. He Jeers at stories of the '■Wlndlgo.'' To his consternation. De-‘ nlse tells Steele she Is Lascelles' fiancee. I CONTINUED FROM LAST WEEK) „ CHAPTER VII The following morning the people of Walling Klver were at the river shore where three men stood beside a loaded canoe near which rested a company .fcirch bark. l' Then approaching from the factor’* house appeared the figure of Denise 8L Onge. He had seen her ftor a moment that Morning, for hla contemplated Journey to the Feather lakes and the autumn cunpa of the OJlbways, Interrupted by their discovery of the day before, ■tight admit of no return to the post before stsrting south. It sll depended how early the winter broke. So he hod called at the factor’s to say good by until the sled trails were hard in ffovember. For late Into the prevlou* Bight he had sat with his two swart faced companion* planning many thing*, and the first of these was an oarly return to Walling River with the fastest team of doga that money would buy in the Neplgon country. Another was a systematic running down of the mysterious marauder, on the snow, where his trail could not escape them; the last, and most vital to llrent Steele he touched upon only to the extent of assuring Michel that l.a see lies should ■ever succeed in his plan -to force Denise St. Onge Into a marriage to protect her father> future with the Itevlllon Freres. notwithstanding the fact that she had already 'assented to his wishes. And the lean half-breed had sprung to his feet with an oath, and wringing Steele's hand, cried Eel’ you do not come hack, tn’sleu d he cum to tak’ her to Albany, dev eel tin' dead man by name of I-ascel e* een bees bed at Wallin’ Riviere.” “Never fear.” Steele had answered “David and I are coming hack after Messieurs LasceJIes anil Wlndlgo.” Steele was keenly curious of Denis* St. Onge’s motive in coming to th* beach when tye had already hade bet good-by that morning at the house He had'said: ‘‘Mademoiselle. I ait started again with David and may not return to Wailing River befor* going south. Will you promise thi' one thing?” . • “Monsieur Steele,’* she had replied so patently fearing what the Ameri “You Forget That Yoti Have No Right to Aek Anything of Me." Advertise in The People. can might aay that she loet control of her voice. “You forget that you have no right to ask anything of me.” But he had boldly ignored her pro test. “I ask you, Denise St. Onge, not to throw away your future—your life —if you must—until spring. I am coming back on the snow, in Novem ber, to clear up this mystery and—1<» save you from yourself.” And with out waiting for her reply, for he did not dare trust himself, had left her. And now for aoine reason she was hurrying toward them, on a mission seemingly urgent Brent Steele watched the approaching girl with high hope. David and Michel ex changed. curious glances. Then she reached them. “I could not have you go, Montdeur Steele,” ahe said In her low, throaty voice, “without wishing you bon voy age.” In her haste, a vagrant lock of black hair had loosed Itself and she caught it up with her left hand, as she extended her right to Steele. To her embarrassment he held the hand overlong In hla as hla eyes ques tioned hers. “You asked me to make you a prom ise, monsieur,” she said in a voice barely audible, looking from him to the hills to the south. “Well, I’ve come to say, au revolr. You have—my promise.” And she swiftly disengaged her hand and had reached the clearing before Steele sensed to the full what her words had meant. Then to Steele’a brain, dazed with surprise and Joy, returned the word'' of Charlotte: "She tin* you good man, ahe weel go wld you for your woman.” And he lifted his cheat high with a deep breath, for he now be lieved Charlotte had known. 8t. Onge and Laacellea left the trade-house and approached the wait ing canoes. “Good morning, gentlemen, you are late,” greeted the man still In the clouds with the thought and picture of the girl who had but that moment entered her houae. “Good morning, monsieur," returned St. Onge. ’'Monaleur LaaceRea has de cided that he will not have time to go upriver." Steele smiled sarcastically at hla rival. The temptation to turn the tables was overpowering. “Possibly Monsieur Luarelles has too tender a heart to dealre to look at a dead man—or Is It his n**se?" Lascelles’ face went purple. He choked, made an Impulsive movement toward Steele who st*MNl grinning, then gulped down hla auger as David laughed outright In his face, while ousy. Mlcljel turned his hack. Too clever to make a scene In which he was Imund to appear at a disadvantage, the In spector, now In control of- himself, pnx'eeded to take hla revenge by say- ing: . “No, monsieur, but n soldier and gentleman always gives precedence to the ladies. I have but a few days to stay here and I have decided to spend them all In the company of a very lovely lady, my fiancee, Made moiselle St. Onge. It was Lascelles’ turn to laugh, for his word stung' Sterne like the lash of a whip. But unlike the Frenchman’ the face of the other reflected his thoughts solely In the swift hardening of the mouth and the glitter in the gray eyes. “Then of course, colonel." he coun- ’ered savagely, “you cannot go. You French are such careful chaperons." Lascelles* openly scowled his disap pointment as St. Onge retorted: “Oh. naturally I shall stay; so I *hall wlph you bon voyage and all suc cess. Monsieur Steele.” And he shook his gnest’8 hand. "We shall expect yon again before you start south.” “Goodby, sir, and my deepest thanks for your hospitality. You will send a canoe, anyway, in two weeks to meet Michel at the Feather lakes?” "Yes, au revolr!” Ignoring Lascelles, he stepped Ipto the canoe, launched by Michel and David, then as If It were an after thought. Steele called banteringly to the Inspector: “And to you, sir, a pleasant stay at Walling River, and safe run to Albany, for I very much wish to meet you again.” With the lunge of three natrow blades, the canoe leapM upstream leaving two men on the shore—qne with frank approval in the tired eyes which watched the broad back of Brent Stpele as he followed the vicious stroke of the Iroquois In the how; the other nervously stroking a black mustache which adorned fea tures on which perplexity and bate were written large. ,\ • • * • • •. • Three days later, when the canoe of Steele was far on Its way to the Feather lakes In Its search for the trail of the Wlndlgo, Denise St. Onge sat In her living-room with the man who controlled her father’a. future wlfli tli* RevSIoa FrefesT For two days, all that autterfug* and the plea of illneea roold avail to avoid being alone with him, ahe had made uee of, but now that he was returning to Fort Albany, he would no| he denied hla hour. “Mademoiselle,” he was laying, “when a man travels as far as I have to visit his fiancee. Is he not entitled to a somewhat warmer welcome—to a more frequent opportunity to enjoy her society than you have accorded meT’ “Monsieur Lascelles,” replied the girl coldly, “I wrote you accepting the of fer which you have made me many times In the last three years. In. con sideration that you kept my father In the employ of the company in charge of a first-class post, I agreed to marry you within a year. It was a contract of business, monsieur. The day of your arrival here you agreed to my Lascelles fidgeted under the calm, Impersonal gaze of the girl’s black eyes. ■. .. "It is true, mademoiselle,’’ and he twisted his mustache In hi* chagrin, “but I am deeply In love with you, and It is most unusqal, is It not, to be Ignored — avoided? I have some rights.” “I have not promised to love yon, monsieur, If that is what you mean," was her quiet answer. “No,!’ and the blood ’suddenly flushed his face, ‘‘but I have reason to believe that you have an interest In this Amer ican, Steele. Why has he stayed here two weeks? Why, except for the fact that Mademoiselle St. Onge Is pretty and charming, eh?” 7 : ’~~ Denise St. Onge smiled wearily. _ “Possibly, monsieur. ;;Tt Is not un likely you will think so anyway. You are the type of man who always in sists on the woman motive.” "Woman motive? Why not? In this case It is clear,” he hurst out, walking the floor, mad with Jealousy, and helpless before the Indifference of the woman whom he had traveled three hundred miles to see. “Pardon me, but as a matter of fact, you are wrong. Monsieur Steele Is an ethnologist and is deeply Interested In this mystery which you make light of.” Lascelles spapped his fingers vicious ly. “You believe In this Wlndlgo myth, too? Your father Is imherlllc about It.” The dark face of the girl darned with anger at the reference to her fa ther. “You laugh at what has ruined this post, monsieur, because It suited your plan. Is it not so?” He turned to her with a snarl. “Evidently you are aa superstitious as the Ignorant Indians.” “Possibly 1 am. I don’t know what I believe,” she said calmly. “I only lake, other than tpe needless agitation of the post Indiana, was aa enigma to Rteoie. but It was evident that Michel had an Idea of Its nature' which he would divulge only when ready to talk. *• ’’Michel,’’ Steele asked, as the three men sat by their fire smoking after- supper pipes, “what’s In the back of your head regarding thla Pierre? You think he knew of the dead Indian at Stooping river when he came to the post, yet made no mention of that but told this wild tale of the Feather lake Wlndlgo scare. Why should he lie about the one and conceal the other?” The Iroquois slowly exhaled a col umn' of smoke before replying.-. / “Dees Pierre I know for long time. He alway mak’ trouble When I see iieern, he tell me somerlng or he nev- alre mak’ more trouble on dees riv iere," was the unresponsive answer. “But what Is he driving at? Why shouldn’t he report the killing of that Indian at Stooping river as well as the Wlndlgo scare that existed aJt Feather lake?" r Michel shook his head. “Eet ees queer ting, for sure.” was the laconic reply. Steele’s eyes sought David’s Impas sive face, hut the OJlhway seemed deep in a problem of his own. It was Irritating to a degree, but Steele knew his Indians—knew that Michel would talk In his own, time and not before— that questioning would only drive him Into a deeper silence. , “How many Indians trap the Port age Lake country?" Steele asked. “Good manee hunt dat valley, good manee oval re on de Little Current.” “Weil start tomorrow. It looks a* If Monsieur Wlndlgo was not going to pay this country—“ From the ’■'d'res of the mainland the moaning bellow of a cow moose slow ly rose and died on the frosty night. “Dat cow holler ver’ strange." said David, as the three sat with tilted heads, ears straining. Again out across the still lake drifted the mating call. “Huh!” muttered Michel, “dat Injun poor caller." Rigid, the three listened to the voice In the night, and In the mind of each slowly took shape the same surmise. Then from the burnt ridge of the opposite shore lifted a low wall, gath ering In volume until It climaxed In a scream. “De Wlndlgo!" With a leap. Michel had his rifle and waa sliding the cnifoe Into the water. “Come on,” cried Steele, “we’ l sep arate and stalk that ridge from throe directions.’* They were half way to the shore when the voice buret out anew In sobs and maudlin mewing, and Steele pitied the terrified women and children of the fishing camp, faring the horror of hla men. Bat gradually the of the poraott draw away from the white men, oo match for thoae who, from, childlike.had traveled the for ests at night In an hbur two grimy, battered ■ 1 si half-hreeda/ bleeding from contact with the Umber, appeared on the beech. ; “Well, It fooled us again," vouch safed Steele, ruefully, “did you see ur “We nevaire see heem,” mattered the disheartened Michel, squatting on his heels at the water's edge to bathe his face, and hla shoulders from which the woolen shirt hung in rib bons. “You did not see him when yon fired?” demanded the surprised Steele. “I got a look at him for n second.” David grinned at his chief. “Dat was me you shoot at. De bullet seeng close, too. Good shot !*’ “What, you were out In front of me l Why didn’t yon whistle?" protested the chagrined Steele. “I didn't know, until you fired, that you-two had got up there. From the sound, what did he travel like, Michel?" The half-treed lifted a grave face. “He travel lak* a seek bear; bnt do bear holler lak*.a lynx."^ "Is this the same one we heard at 'Walling River?” “Mebbe. Mebbe ’nodder one. 'Jib- way say plenty ov dem een valley ov de Walling." “But what do you think, Michel?" demanded Steele hotly. "Here I am, with David, giving up my time to help you run this thing down and. If pos sible, save the poet for 8L Onge; and know what I heard that terrible night slone, with their men for In the carl- —what the Indians believe —snd hou barrena. where Is the fur canoe? Where are your fare? Where are your men? Is that of no consequence?” It was to the credit of the Infatuat ed Lascelles, as he bade the woman who had prmnlaed to marry him. gooil- hy, that what whm his of right he did not demand when he entered hla canoe at the foot of the carry. "Au revolr!” he said, taking her hand and kissing It. “You will write by the ChristmuM tiiMlI?” And the men who had Journeyed up the Albany at d the Walling, exulting In his harga’n with a desperate irfri, returned, beat en. mystified and consumed with Jvul- CHAPTER VIII * Driven by three iron-hard hacks snd pain of arms. Steele's canoe mated a wide ripple on the smoldering surface of Big Feather lake, which o|»ened out before them in mile upon tnil« of sleep ing water. A group of women, children and flogs awaited the canoe's lauding at the fish ing camp oi* the OJlbways. •‘Bo’-Jo’, bo’-Jo’!” Anil Michel, kick ing his way through the snarling hus kies, shook hands with the surprised women, curious to learn what had brought the headman at Walling River to the Feather lakes in September. “So the Wlndlgo criesjio longer at night on the burnt ridge?” he began, in OJlhway. To his surprise the women stared at him in amazement, which changed to fear at the thought of the possibility of the presence of a demon so dread ed, in the Feather Lake country? 1 “No Wlndlgo-Jhas cried here,’’ replied an old woman, excitedly. “We would not stay! Our men are away In the muskegs, hunting caribou. They would not leave us here to be eaten by a Wlndlgo.” — . Michel looked at Steele. “She say no Wlndlgo bln here. Why did Pierre He to us?" 7 “Queer for him to bring that tale to Wailing River,” muttered Steele. “Pierre, who left you to trade at Ogoke last spring,” continued Michel. “Has he camped here this guramer?” “No, we have ndt seen his * family since the moon of flowers. They went to Ogoke.” Michel nodded, as If satisfied, "Well, Michel, it looks ns if we were on a wild goose chase.” The small eyes of the Iroquois glit tered. “I t’ink we ketch dls goose Jea de same." “What d’you mean?" “Wnl, we know Pierre Is a liar and he cum to Wallin’ Riviere to mak* talk wld Tete-Bonle. Now Pierre an' Tete- Boule try mak* some trouble ovalr dees Wlndlgo. We’n I go back Tete-Boule weel tell me w’at Pierre say to heem.” And the lean face of Michel took on a fierceness which caused the squaws Instinctively to draw back,. W’hat motive Pierre eould have had In. the tale of the,.Wlndlgo at Feather Landing on the bench under the ridge, Steele left the others with the warning: “No wild firing, now I Re member the whistle! We'll meet here on this sand beach." The canoe vanished in the ahadoap and the American started hla stalk. Twice he stopped for a space to study the caterwauling on the brow beyond him. Blood-chllllng, unearthly, the voice filled the calm night. The danger of the buntere firing Into I each other waa great, and he climbed cautiously, taking the cover of the ] down timber, ears alert for the riac- cato whistle of the yellow lega, their signal of Identification. At last, with akin and clothes torn by the brittle twigs of the dead spruce, he reached the flat sholuder of ' the ridge. For some time the night I h d brooded, unmarred by the voice, j Cocking his ritte he crept forward, aearcldng the area of skeleton trees, ghostly in the pale light of the stars, for some movement. He whs puzzled i at the failure of the Indiana, whose pace should have l»een faster than hla, to reach the brow of the ridge. If they had, perhaps even now, the rov ing eye of Michel already marked him okt—was frighting down a rifle barrel, hi* crooked finger on the trig ger, waiting to be sure of his target before he fired. -At the thought Steele flattened out' aiyl whistled. But the hoo-hoo of a gray owl, pa trol ing the green tirater of the lake shore below, was his only answer. Minutes, which seemed Interminable to the watcher, passed. Where were the Indians? Then to his surprlse«nn unspeakable mewing defiled the night. In vain he strove to locate the position of the beast. But,, as the mewing merged Into the shrieks of a wetoan, the flash and report, flash and report, of two rifles cut it short off. Something thrashed through the timber out In front. He swung his rifle In the direction of the sound, his eye* straining for a target. The starlight^ gave him a fleeting glimpse of a dark object cross ing the hole of a skeleton spruce, and he fired twice. Then leaping down, he plunged through the tangle of dead spruce in the wake of David and Ml* ■tags of Ms pipe, before the ■saw made ft boaaibl# to foUew m there was rami chance at aotriag the mystery of the night Walling. Now, Steele muted. When the men returned from their hunt to hear of the voice In the night from the circle of half-demented women cowering there around the fire, the tale weald straightway travel to tho lour wtada, and hardy Indeed would be the who would drive Me dog team thla Christmas down the white the Wailing to trade at the V poot With no Christmas, and little prospect of a spring trade, unless the mystery were solved by the nraalag down of this beast with the miracu lous vocal cords, Walling River wan doomed. Even If Denise married Las celles in the spring, the post coaid not he continued under e taboo. True, 8t. Onge hart sworn that she should never make the sacrifice, but the factor was at his rope’s end, snd die would override him. She weald not tee him disgraced. Her pride would drive her to U—that flefee pride of race. She was s thoroughbred and would go to her spiritual death with a high head. In the spring. In the morning Michel would go hi search of the caribou hunters, for after that night the women would not re main alone at Big Feather. David would cross to Portage lake to learn If the Wlndlgo had been heard on the Little Current. He. hlmsstf, would cover the country back of the ridge for a trail which be had Itttln hope of picking up, and endeavor to hold the women at their camp until their men returned. On the return of David they would at once start for Neplgon. leav ing Michel to meet the canoe St Onge wae to send. With Michel would go two lottans, explaining hla change of plana. The ■ole hope of holding the Indians now waa In scotching the Wlndtpe tarfer early In the winter by tracking down the beast on the Itat snow; and aat strongly as hla hoart drew him towasd torn, he made hie decMom (CONTINUED NEXT WEBX) •toele Struggled to Keep at the Heels ef Hie Men. yeu don’t trust me. < Why don’t you open your heart te roe?" Michel straightened end going to (he small fire David had built oh the beech, calmly examined hla tattered shirt and trousers, as he dried oaf. ’ “You are good man. M'aleu Steels Daveed tell me, hut I have de eye te see. W’en you come hack on de snow, I tell you Komet'lng.” That was all, and Steele understood. It was evident that Michel had hound hluifrelf to secrecy. But why had be told David? “In the morning we must hunt for ■ trail," Steele said. phllowophlcMlIy bowing to the Inevitable. Now we'U have to do what we can to quiet those poor squaws.” As the canoe landed on the beech below the silent tipis, one by one, dark shapes of Indian dogs slunk from the adjacent acrut, tails between legs, to whimper at the feet of the men. , » ^ “Scared stiff," said Steele. "And from the sonnd the squaw* are worse. Go and talk to them, Michel. Tell them It wa* a mad wolverine or lynx and we’ve hunted It out of the countfy. PH get a fire going while David brings some tea from the Island. It will cheer them up—the tea." But both his patience, and his knowledge of the woods Indian’s be lief In the sni>ernfltural, were taxed to the uttermost before Michel succeed ed In convincing the women that the Wlndlgo they had heard on the ridge was not now luring them to their doom with the assumed vblce of the headman of Walling River. In the end, they crept from the tlpl to the friendly light of the fire, horror In their shifting eyes, gray-faced chil dren clutching their skirts. There, comforted by the tea, and, heartened by the presence of the three men, who kept a huge fire going, the circle of stricken women passed the night. In the opinion of Steele, who kept vigil with his pipe, beside the snoring David ' and Michel, rolled In their blankets, the coming of the beast to Big Feather before the freese-up, was T. B. J. R. ELLIS ENGINEERING CO. AU I of Insurance jFarm Coverage a Specialty Calhoun and Co. P. A. Price, Mgr. Bank of W. C. Bldg. evidently In the uncertain light, missed. Down over the treacherous going of the slof>e of the ridge the sure-footed Indians hunted the thing their rifle shots had stampeded. Tripping, .fall ing. to rise and stumble on through the network of- trunks and llmba, ATTENTION, K. K. K- JEWELRY Ladies and Gents watches. Gold and platinum diamond mounted jewelry. Gorham sterling and plated sil ver ware. Waterman Ideal pen* and pen cils. r Engraved visiting, business cards and invitations. A first class watch and jewelry repair department. Diamonds remounted in white and yellow gold mountings. You can appreciate fully the quality of our goods and service* only by sampling them. P. W. STEVENS • Barnwell, South Carolina. chel who had stalked their quarry, hut menace whh . h the for _ tunes'of Walling River poet, and the glfl who had given him until spring to accomplish the Impossible, had yet There will be a regular meeting of ’'miwell Klan in the Masonic Hall every second and fourth Tuesday flights in each month. A full at tendance is requested. encountered. For, as a forest Are runs In dry timber, so rumors ^of the bottling of the Wlndlgo at Big Feath er would travel from hunter to hunter through the upper valley of the Wall ing. The tale would spread, gather- erlng horror as It went aa a snowsIMe gathers momentum, qntil in time the whole region learned that a Wlndlgo wae loose In the valley of the Walling —a fiend fierce beyond belief and hun gry for the flesh of the OJlhway. Then would follow, uclees the beast were kilted and the terror ended, swift erodes from, the valley of the families' m (Jt!