st. jean bateese, nahnya, and ralph sat by the fire. the flames threw strong, changeable lights up into the three unlike faces; the first ashy brown, the second ruddy brown, and the third ruddy white. the fire held each pair of eyes steadily; it was too disconcerting to look at each other. nahnya, in the middle, sat on her heels, with her head a little lowered, and her hands clasped loosely in her lap. ralph was reminded with a little pain at his heart of a picture of mary magdalen that he had seen. throughout the telling of her long story she scarcely ever changed her position.

there was a long silence before anybody spoke. when it became oppressive, st. jean started to tell the story of the making of the world, but nahnya silenced him.

"st. jean," she said, "i have been thinking much what to do. now i know. often the doctor was angry against me because i did not tell him all about us. now i will tell him. i think he is a good man. i think he is not so greedy for gold as other white men. i think when i tell him all he will go away and forget what he has seen."

it sounded like a death warrant to ralph. "nahnya——!" he began.

"wait till i have told you," she said.

she was silent for a space, looking down at her hands, and searching it would seem for the right words to begin. she told her story in a low-pitched, toneless voice that, concealing all, suggested all. when in certain parts of the story her voice threatened to shake, she paused until she could control it. nahnya had no fine english phrases; therein lay the power of her tale; its bare crudeness went deeper than pathos.

"when i was a little girl," she began, "i go to the mission school at caribou lake. the nuns' school. i am there four winters. they teach me to speak english and french; to read and write and number; to sew and cook and keep house like white people. i am the smartest girl in the school, they say. i like to learn in books; the other children hate books. when visitors come the nuns send me to say my lessons in the parlour. i not like the other girls. they stupid and foolish, i think. they not like me either. i different from them.

"at caribou lake are plenty white people. i like them. i like how white people live with nice things and nice ways. i like to sit in a chair to my meals, and have a white cloth on the table, and china dishes. all the time i think of the white people and their own country outside. i am crazy to go there and see all that is to be seen.

"there was a boy at that school two years more older than me. he is half-white like me. he does not like books, but i look at him and i know he feels the same like me inside. i would like to be friends with him. but the nuns do not let the boys and the girls speak together. but i look at him and he look at me, and at night when all are asleep i go out of the dormitory as soft as a lynx and he is wait for me in the vegetable garden. we talk together. he is like my brother. he tell me he is going to run away from that school and go outside. i feel bad. i want to go, too.

"when i come back in the house, a nun wake up and catch me. they make awful trouble. they say i bad girl. they lock me up and give me only bread and water. i am mad because they call me bad and look sour at me. because i think before that they did love me. i know i am not bad, but i will not say anything. they say i am hardened. i am not hard; i am soft. all the time when i am alone i cry. but i will not let them see me cry.

"long time i am locked up. it is near spring when i am let out. the boy is gone from the school. i am changed. i hate that school now. i want to run away. i act very good now, so i get a chance to run away. the nuns say i am reformed, and they smile again. they not know what is inside me. by and by they begin to let me go out by myself; because i am one of the biggest girls they send me to the store for tea and sugar.

"there is a white man in the french outfit store and he is kind to me. he give me things for myself out of the store, and i think he is a good man. i tell him i want to go outside so bad, and he say he will take me when he goes in the summer. i am so glad i near crazy. i not think any bad, because he is an old man with gray hair, and he say he will take me to see his daughters that he got outside. me, i am not yet sixteen years old.

"so when the ice go out of the lake and they say the first york boat will leave grier's point soon as it is light next morning, he tell me, and in the night i get out of my bed. there is a nun sleeping beside the door, but i crawl under all the beds like a weasel, and i get out. all the way i run to grier's point. it is five miles. soon it is day, and they push off the boat. i am so excite', i am weh-ti-go, crazy. but i am still.

"soon i find i make a mistake. that white man is no good. he begin to act bad to me, and i am scare. there are many people going on the york boat, and with so many i am safe. i stay close by the english schoolmaster's wife, and mind her baby, and he cannot get me. he is mad. we are on the york boat five days. when we get to the landing, when he is drinking in the hotel, i run away and hide in the woods.

"i walk to prince george by myself. it is a hundred miles, they say. i beg a little food from the stopping-houses. i sleep in the deep woods, because i am afraid of men. when i come to the town i am wood with all i see. so much noise and moving; so many people i don't know what to do. i feel bad because there is not any place for me. and all the men look at me the same as that old white man on the york boat. always i am hiding from them. i think there is something the matter with me. maybe i am bad like the nuns say, and i not know it.

"i walk and walk in the streets. i am much hungry. by and by i get a job in a laundry. there are other red girls working there, and i think i am safe. they will tell me what to do. but they act bad to me because the boss talk and laugh to me, and only curse them. the boss is like the other men, and soon i have to go without my pay.

"i get another job soon because i am strong. i get many jobs. i cannot count them. always some white man he will not let me be, and i have to go. it is near three years that i am working in prince george. there is no use telling it, because it is always the same. by and by i am really hard inside like the nuns say. i do not care any more. i say to myself what is the use of a life like this. it makes a girl no friends. i am only a hunted beast. and i say i will not run any more, but take what comes. it cannot be worse. but always i have to run when the time comes. it is something inside me that makes me run.

"at last there was a man who was worse than any of the others. he followed me from place to place, and spoke bad against me, so that always i lost my job. he thought if he could starve me out i would go to him. i would sooner have jumped in the river. by and by i couldn't get any jobs in prince george, and i go away.

"i am much sick of white men and white man's country. i think there is a curse on me that turns them into devils when they look at me. often i see they do not act so bad to their own women as to me. so i think i go back to my mot'er's people. maybe there is a place for me there. maybe i am most red myself.

"so i make a long, long journey. i come to my mot'er's people at last. it is not good. there is nobody glad to see me. they are poor and sick and bad. they not like me because i am scold them because they are so dirty and lazy and foolish. they live beside a company post on the big river. when i was a little girl it was far off, and we never see a white man but the trader, but now the steamboat run on the river, and many white men are coming. there are surveyors measuring the land, and farmers ploughing it and growing wheat.

"it is moch bad for the red people. the young white men come around the tepees and flirt with the girls, and give whiskey to the boys. our girls and our boys want to go with white men, and dress fine and not work at all. the boys learn to steal, and the girls are bad. the people live in houses with stoves to be warm, and they get the lung sickness. they try to be like white men, and they are nothing.

"my mot'er's husband is a bad man. he beat my mot'er and take a new wife. he hate me moch because he cannot look in my face. he speak bad of me to all the people. he is a chief man among those people, and all believe him and hate me.

"so they do not want me there. i feel bad. i think i doubly cursed because i cannot stay in any place nowhere. only st. jean bateese, he is my friend. he remember the good time when the red men were free hunters. he feel bad like me to see the people dirty and lazy and sick. he feel much bad to see his children growing up and only badness waiting for them. when all are sleeping in the tepees we talk much together.

"by and by we make a plan. we say we take his children and my mot'er and my mot'er's children, and we travel far from the white men, and we teach the children how to live like our fathers lived without the white man and the white man's goods. my mot'er's husband, he not care if we go. he got a young wife now.

"all winter we are making ready, and when the ice go out in the spring we start up the river in three canoes. we travel many days on the big river. the weather is fine, and the children are happy to be travelling.

"one day charley and i are hunting a bear on shore. he is wounded, and we follow him a long, long way up a mountain. he goes into a cave. we are much afraid to go after him, but we have followed far and there is no fresh meat, so we go in. we follow him under the mountain, and that is how we find this place. i am much glad when i see it. it is what we want. no white man will ever find us here, i say. here is everything we need to live. we will live here and die here, and forget the white man. and me, i think then, i have found happiness."

nahnya came to a conclusion, and there was a silence by the fire.

"so that is why you wanted to keep me out?" said ralph, very low.

"you are a white man," murmured nahnya. "st. jean and i have sworn to keep the children from the white men."

ralph was moved to the bottom of his soul. "nahnya," he said in a low, shaken voice, "in all my life before i never made an oath. hear me now. i swear to you by all i hold dear, by my honour, by my hope of heaven, that i will never do anything to bring unhappiness into this valley!"

"you mean good," she said. "i do not doubt you. but who can tell what will follow? i have a feeling of evil to come. once i heard a wise man say: 'the white men are like a prairie fire and the red men are the grass. who shall stop the fire from consuming the grass?'"

at a certain point in the telling of this tale ralph's intuition had warned him that something was left out; this feeling pursued him to the end. "nahnya," he said presently, "you told me you had been in winnipeg."

her eyes darted a startled, pained glance at him, and her head fell a little lower.

"never mind if it's too painful," ralph said quickly.

"yes," she said, in the same dead, quiet voice, "i will tell you that, too. that part i have never told. not to st. jean bateese."

after a while she went on: "when i couldn't get a job in prince george any more it is not true that i come back to my mot'er's people right away. first i go see my father. when things get so bad i think maybe my father help me. my mother have tell me his name. i ask one and another and by and by i find out he live in winnipeg. i have save a little money, and i go to winnipeg on the railway. it is a big city.

"i have not been there at all before i learn my father is now a rich, great man, and the king has put a sir before his name. then i am scare to see him. i do nothing to see him. i get a job. i get many jobs. i can take care of myself better in such a big city.

"one day in the street i hear a man say my father's name. 'that is he,' he said, and i look and i see my father. he is riding in a fine motor-car with his white wife and his white children. my heart beat fast to see him. he is a handsome, proud man, not very old yet. he was just a boy when he was in our country; my mot'er tell me so. a boy with yellow hair who laugh all the time and play jokes, she say. still he likes to laugh i see by the lines in his face.

"after i see him in his fine motor-car i am more scare. what does he want with a poor girl like me, i think, and i do nothing to see him. but all the time i read the newspapers to find out what he does. then i see there is going to be a big, what you call, political meeting, and my father is going to speak. so i go to the skating-rink on that night, and all the people look at me because there is no other red girl go to that political meeting. but i not care. i am crazy to hear my father's voice. when he stand up to speak my heart knock in my breast like the stick-kettle when the people dance.

"he speaks. it is beautiful. i do not understand it all, but i am happy because my father is a good, kind man who wishes good to all the poor people. always he is working for the people, he says. his voice was as sweet and strong as an organ in church. when i hear him speak i know for sure he is my father, because i feel the same inside as him, but i cannot speak it.

"after that i think much i go to see him. i am afraid and i am not afraid. i think why should i be afraid, he is kind, he feels for poor people. i think maybe i go as a poor girl, and not tell him i am his daughter. at last i go.

"when i see his house i am scare again. it is as big as a hill. it has a hundred windows. long time i walk outside the yard. 'you are a fool,' i say to me. 'you have done nothing against him; he will not be angry.' at last i go to the door. a man comes. he say my father is out and close the door to me. as i am going down the steps my father comes in his motor-car. he asks me what i want. i say i want to see him. he laugh and take me inside with him, into a room. it is like a dream. my legs are shaking.

"it is a beautiful room with high windows. all around the walls there are books with different coloured covers. there is a big desk, and he sit behind it, and lean back and pull off his gloves. he smile. he has beautiful white teeth, like my mot'er tell me, and he ask me again what i want. i am so scare i say the first thing i think. i ask him for a job.

"he is very kind. he say: 'certainly we will find you work. what can you do?'

"i say i am a good laundress, or a cook, or a nurse. we talk some more. he is still kind. he ask me how long i been in winnipeg, and where i work and all. always i am too scare to say in that fine room: 'i am your daughter.'

"at last he say: 'well, come back to-morrow, and i'll see what i can do.' then i start to go, and he say: 'wait a minute.' he get up and come around the desk, his eyes go bad——"

she paused. ralph's heart beat thickly with a horrible premonition.

"i run out of the house," nahnya faltered. "i never tell him. i never see him again!"