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The Honor of the Big Snows, a novel by James Oliver Curwood |
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Chapter 23. Jan Returns |
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_ CHAPTER XXIII. JAN RETURNS All that spring and summer Jan spent in the thick caribou swamps and low ridge-mountains along the Barrens. It was two months before he appeared at the post again, and then he remained only long enough to patch himself up and secure fresh supplies. Melisse had suffered quietly during these two months, a grief and loneliness filling her heart which none knew but herself. Even from Iowaka she kept her unhappiness a secret; and yet when the gloom had settled heaviest upon her, she was still buoyed up by a persistent hope. Until Jan's last visit to Lac Bain this hope never quite went out. The first evening after his arrival from the swamps to the west, he came to the cabin. His beard had grown again. His hair was long and shaggy, and fell in shining dishevelment upon his shoulders. The sensitive beauty of his great eyes, once responsive to every passing humor in Melisse, flashing fun at her laughter, glowing softly in their devotion, was gone. His face was filled with the age-old silence of the forest man. Firmly and yet gently, it repelled whatever of the old things she might have said and done, holding her away from him as if by power of a strong hand. This time Melisse knew that there was left not even the last comforting spark of hope within her bosom. Jan had gone out of her life for ever, leaving to her, as a haunting ghost of what they two had once been to each other, the old violin on the cabin wall. After he went away again, the violin became more and more to her what it had once been to him. She played it as he had played it, sobbing her loneliness and her heart-break through its strings, in lone hours clasping it to her breast and speaking to it as Jan had talked to it in years gone by. "If you could only tell me--if you only could!" she whispered to it one day, when the autumn was drawing near. "If you could tell me about him, and what I might do--dear old violin!" Once during the autumn Jan came in for supplies and traps, and his dogs and sledge. He was planning to spend the winter two hundred miles to the west, in the country of the Athabasca. He was at Lac Bain for a week, and during this time a mail-runner came in from Fort Churchill. The runner brought a new experience into the life of Melisse--her first letter. It was from young Dixon--twenty or more closely written pages of it, in which he informed her that he was going to spend a part of the approaching winter at Lac Bain. She was reading the last page when Jan came into the cabin. Her cheeks were slightly flushed by this new excitement, which was reflected in her eyes as she looked at Jan. "A letter!" she cried, holding out her two hands filled with the pages. "A letter--to me, Jan, all the way from Fort Churchill!" "Who in the world--" he began, smiling at her; and stopped. "It's from Mr. Dixon," she said, the flush deepening in her cheeks. "He's going to spend part of the winter with us." "I'm glad of that, Melisse," said Jan quietly. "I like him, and would like to know him better. I hope he will bring you some more books--and strings." He glanced at the old violin. "Do you play much?" "A great deal," she replied. "Won't you play for me, Jan?" "My hands are too rough; and besides, I've forgotten all that I ever knew." "Even the things you played when I was a baby?" "I think I have, Melisse. But you must never forget them." "I shall remember them--always," she answered softly. "Some day it may be that I will teach them to you again." He did not see her again until six months later, when he came in to the caribou roast, with his furs. Then he learned that another letter had come to Melisse, and that Dixon had gone to London instead of coming to Lac Bain. The day after the carnival he went back into the country of the Athabasca. Spring did not see him at Lac Bain. Early summer brought no news of him. In the floods, Jean went by the water-way to the Athabasca, and found Thoreau's cabin abandoned. There had not been life in it for a long time. The Indians said that since the melting snows they had not seen Jan. A half-breed whom Jean met at Fond du Lac said that he had found the bones of a white man on the Beaver, with a Hudson's Bay gun and a horn-handled knife beside them. Jean came back to Lac Bain heavy at heart. "There is no doubt but that he is dead," he told Iowaka. "I do not believe that it will hurt very much if you tell Melisse." One day early in September a lone figure came in to the post at noon, when the company people were at dinner. He carried a pack, and six dogs trailed at his heels. It was Jan Thoreau. "I have been down to civilization," was his explanation. "I have returned to spend this winter at Lac Bain." _ |
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