The Marriage of Lit-lit
When John Fox came into a country where whisky freezes solid andmay be used as a paper-weight for a large part of the year, he camewithout the ideals and illusions that usually hamper the progressof more delicately nurtured adventurers. Born and reared on thefrontier fringe of the United States, he took with him into Canadaa primitive cast of mind, an elemental simplicity and grip onthings, as it were, that insured him immediate success in his newcareer. From a mere servant of the Hudson Bay Company, driving apaddle with the voyageurs and carrying goods on his back across theportages, he swiftly rose to a Factorship and took charge of atrading post at Fort Angelus.Here, because of his elemental simplicity, he took to himself anative wife, and, by reason of the connubial bliss that followed,he escaped the unrest and vain longings that curse the days of morefastidious men, spoil their work, and conquer them in the end. Helived contentedly, was at single purposes with the business he wasset there to do, and achieved a brilliant record in the service ofthe Company. About this time his wife died, was claimed by herpeople, and buried with savage circumstance in a tin trunk in thetop of a tree.Two sons she had borne him, and when the Company promoted him, hejourneyed with them still deeper into the vastness of the North-West Territory to a place called Sin Rock, where he took charge ofa new post in a more important fur field. Here he spent severallonely and depressing months, eminently disgusted with theunprepossessing appearance of the Indian maidens, and greatlyworried by his growing sons who stood in need of a mother's care.Then his eyes chanced upon Lit-lit."Lit-lit--well, she is Lit-lit," was the fashion in which hedespairingly described her to his chief clerk, Alexander McLean.McLean was too fresh from his Scottish upbringing--"not dry behindthe ears yet," John Fox put it--to take to the marriage customs ofthe country. Nevertheless he was not averse to the Factor'simperilling his own immortal soul, and, especially, feeling anominous attraction himself for Lit-lit, he was sombrely content toclinch his own soul's safety by seeing her married to the Factor.Nor is it to be wondered that McLean's austere Scotch soul stood indanger of being thawed in the sunshine of Lit-lit's eyes. She waspretty, and slender, and willowy; without the massive face andtemperamental stolidity of the average squaw. "Lit-lit," so calledfrom her fashion, even as a child, of being fluttery, of dartingabout from place to place like a butterfly, of being inconsequentand merry, and of laughing as lightly as she darted and dancedabout.Lit-lit was the daughter of Snettishane, a prominent chief in thetribe, by a half-breed mother, and to him the Factor fared casuallyone summer day to open negotiations of marriage. He sat with thechief in the smoke of a mosquito smudge before his lodge, andtogether they talked about everything under the sun, or, at least,everything that in the Northland is under the sun, with the soleexception of marriage. John Fox had come particularly to talk ofmarriage; Snettishane knew it, and John Fox knew he knew it,wherefore the subject was religiously avoided. This is alleged tobe Indian subtlety. In reality it is transparent simplicity.The hours slipped by, and Fox and Snettishane smoked interminablepipes, looking each other in the eyes with a guilelessness superblyhistrionic. In the mid-afternoon McLean and his brother clerk,McTavish, strolled past, innocently uninterested, on their way tothe river. When they strolled back again an hour later, Fox andSnettishane had attained to a ceremonious discussion of thecondition and quality of the gunpowder and bacon which the Companywas offering in trade. Meanwhile Lit-lit, divining the Factor'serrand, had crept in under the rear wall of the lodge, and throughthe front flap was peeping out at the two logomachists by themosquito smudge. She was flushed and happy-eyed, proud that noless a man than the Factor (who stood next to God in the Northlandhierarchy) had singled her out, femininely curious to see at closerange what manner of man he was. Sunglare on the ice, camp smoke,and weather beat had burned his face to a copper-brown, so that herfather was as fair as he, while she was fairer. She was remotelyglad of this, and more immediately glad that he was large andstrong, though his great black beard half frightened her, it was sostrange.Being very young, she was unversed in the ways of men. Seventeentimes she had seen the sun travel south and lose itself beyond thesky-line, and seventeen times she had seen it travel back again andride the sky day and night till there was no night at all. Andthrough these years she had been cherished jealously bySnettishane, who stood between her and all suitors, listeningdisdainfully to the young hunters as they bid for her hand, andturning them away as though she were beyond price. Snettishane wasmercenary. Lit-lit was to him an investment. She represented somuch capital, from which he expected to receive, not a certaindefinite interest, but an incalculable interest.And having thus been reared in a manner as near to that of thenunnery as tribal conditions would permit, it was with a great andmaidenly anxiety that she peeped out at the man who had surely comefor her, at the husband who was to teach her all that was yetunlearned of life, at the masterful being whose word was to be herlaw, and who was to mete and bound her actions and comportment forthe rest of her days.But, peeping through the front flap of the lodge, flushed andthrilling at the strange destiny reaching out for her, she grewdisappointed as the day wore along, and the Factor and her fatherstill talked pompously of matters concerning other things and notpertaining to marriage things at all. As the sun sank lower andlower toward the north and midnight approached, the Factor beganmaking unmistakable preparations for departure. As he turned tostride away Lit-lit's heart sank; but it rose again as he halted,half turning on one heel."Oh, by the way, Snettishane," he said, "I want a squaw to wash forme and mend my clothes."Snettishane grunted and suggested Wanidani, who was an old womanand toothless."No, no," interposed the Factor. "What I want is a wife. I'vebeen kind of thinking about it, and the thought just struck me thatyou might know of some one that would suit."Snettishane looked interested, whereupon the Factor retraced hissteps, casually and carelessly to linger and discuss this new andincidental topic."Kattou?" suggested Snettishane."She has but one eye," objected the Factor."Laska?""Her knees be wide apart when she stands upright. Kips, yourbiggest dog, can leap between her knees when she stands upright.""Senatee?" went on the imperturbable Snettishane.But John Fox feigned anger, crying: "What foolishness is this? AmI old, that thou shouldst mate me with old women? Am I toothless?lame of leg? blind of eye? Or am I poor that no bright-eyed maidenmay look with favour upon me? Behold! I am the Factor, both richand great, a power in the land, whose speech makes men tremble andis obeyed!"Snettishane was inwardly pleased, though his sphinx-like visagenever relaxed. He was drawing the Factor, and making him breakground. Being a creature so elemental as to have room for but oneidea at a time, Snettishane could pursue that one idea a greaterdistance than could John Fox. For John Fox, elemental as he was,was still complex enough to entertain several glimmering ideas at atime, which debarred him from pursuing the one as single-heartedlyor as far as did the chief.Snettishane calmly continued calling the roster of eligiblemaidens, which, name by name, as fast as uttered, were stampedineligible by John Fox, with specified objections appended. Againhe gave it up and started to return to the Fort. Snettishanewatched him go, making no effort to stop him, but seeing him, inthe end, stop himself."Come to think of it," the Factor remarked, "we both of us forgotLit-lit. Now I wonder if she'll suit me?"Snettishane met the suggestion with a mirthless face, behind themask of which his soul grinned wide. It was a distinct victory.Had the Factor gone but one step farther, perforce Snettishanewould himself have mentioned the name of Lit-lit, but--the Factorhad not gone that one step farther.The chief was non-committal concerning Lit-lit's suitability, tillhe drove the white man into taking the next step in order ofprocedure."Well," the Factor meditated aloud, "the only way to find out is tomake a try of it." He raised his voice. "So I will give for Lit-lit ten blankets and three pounds of tobacco which is goodtobacco."Snettishane replied with a gesture which seemed to say that all theblankets and tobacco in all the world could not compensate him forthe loss of Lit-lit and her manifold virtues. When pressed by theFactor to set a price, he coolly placed it at five hundredblankets, ten guns, fifty pounds of tobacco, twenty scarlet cloths,ten bottles of rum, a music-box, and lastly the good-will and bestoffices of the Factor, with a place by his fire.The Factor apparently suffered a stroke of apoplexy, which strokewas successful in reducing the blankets to two hundred and incutting out the place by the fire--an unheard-of condition in themarriages of white men with the daughters of the soil. In the end,after three hours more of chaffering, they came to an agreement.For Lit-lit Snettishane was to receive one hundred blankets, fivepounds of tobacco, three guns, and a bottle of rum, goodwill andbest offices included, which according to John Fox, was tenblankets and a gun more than she was worth. And as he went homethrough the wee sma' hours, the three-o'clock sun blazing in thedue north-east, he was unpleasantly aware that Snettishane hadbested him over the bargain.Snettishane, tired and victorious, sought his bed, and discoveredLit-lit before she could escape from the lodge.He grunted knowingly: "Thou hast seen. Thou has heard. Whereforeit be plain to thee thy father's very great wisdom andunderstanding. I have made for thee a great match. Heed my wordsand walk in the way of my words, go when I say go, come when I bidthee come, and we shall grow fat with the wealth of this big whiteman who is a fool according to his bigness."The next day no trading was done at the store. The Factor openedwhisky before breakfast, to the delight of McLean and McTavish,gave his dogs double rations, and wore his best moccasins. Outsidethe Fort preparations were under way for a POTLATCH. Potlatchmeans "a giving," and John Fox's intention was to signalize hismarriage with Lit-lit by a potlatch as generous as she was good-looking. In the afternoon the whole tribe gathered to the feast.Men, women, children, and dogs gorged to repletion, nor was thereone person, even among the chance visitors and stray hunters fromother tribes, who failed to receive some token of the bridegroom'slargess.Lit-lit, tearfully shy and frightened, was bedecked by her beardedhusband with a new calico dress, splendidly beaded moccasins, agorgeous silk handkerchief over her raven hair, a purple scarfabout her throat, brass ear-rings and finger-rings, and a wholepint of pinchbeck jewellery, including a Waterbury watch.Snettishane could scarce contain himself at the spectacle, butwatching his chance drew her aside from the feast."Not this night, nor the next night," he began ponderously, "but inthe nights to come, when I shall call like a raven by the riverbank, it is for thee to rise up from thy big husband, who is afool, and come to me."Nay, nay," he went on hastily, at sight of the dismay in her faceat turning her back upon her wonderful new life. "For no soonershall this happen than thy big husband, who is a fool, will comewailing to my lodge. Then it is for thee to wail likewise,claiming that this thing is not well, and that the other thing thoudost not like, and that to be the wife of the Factor is more thanthou didst bargain for, only wilt thou be content with moreblankets, and more tobacco, and more wealth of various sorts forthy poor old father, Snettishane. Remember well, when I call inthe night, like a raven, from the river bank."Lit-lit nodded; for to disobey her father was a peril she knewwell; and, furthermore, it was a little thing he asked, a shortseparation from the Factor, who would know only greater gladness athaving her back. She returned to the feast, and, midnight beingwell at hand, the Factor sought her out and led her away to theFort amid joking and outcry, in which the squaws were especiallyconspicuous.Lit-lit quickly found that married life with the head-man of a fortwas even better than she had dreamed. No longer did she have tofetch wood and water and wait hand and foot upon cantankerousmenfolk. For the first time in her life she could lie abed tillbreakfast was on the table. And what a bed!--clean and soft, andcomfortable as no bed she had ever known. And such food! Flour,cooked into biscuits, hot-cakes and bread, three times a day andevery day, and all one wanted! Such prodigality was hardlybelievable.To add to her contentment, the Factor was cunningly kind. He hadburied one wife, and he knew how to drive with a slack rein thatwent firm only on occasion, and then went very firm. "Lit-lit isboss of this place," he announced significantly at the table themorning after the wedding. "What she says goes. Understand?" AndMcLean and McTavish understood. Also, they knew that the Factorhad a heavy hand.But Lit-lit did not take advantage. Taking a leaf from the book ofher husband, she at once assumed charge of his own growing sons,giving them added comforts and a measure of freedom like to thatwhich he gave her. The two sons were loud in the praise of theirnew mother; McLean and McTavish lifted their voices; and the Factorbragged of the joys of matrimony till the story of her goodbehaviour and her husband's satisfaction became the property of allthe dwellers in the Sin Rock district.Whereupon Snettishane, with visions of his incalculable interestkeeping him awake of nights, thought it time to bestir himself. Onthe tenth night of her wedded life Lit-lit was awakened by thecroaking of a raven, and she knew that Snettishane was waiting forher by the river bank. In her great happiness she had forgottenher pact, and now it came back to her with behind it all thechildish terror of her father. For a time she lay in fear andtrembling, loath to go, afraid to stay. But in the end the Factorwon the silent victory, and his kindness plus his great muscles andsquare jaw, nerved her to disregard Snettishane's call.But in the morning she arose very much afraid, and went about herduties in momentary fear of her father's coming. As the day worealong, however, she began to recover her spirits. John Fox,soundly berating McLean and McTavish for some petty dereliction ofduty, helped her to pluck up courage. She tried not to let him goout of her sight, and when she followed him into the huge cache andsaw him twirling and tossing great bales around as though they werefeather pillows, she felt strengthened in her disobedience to herfather. Also (it was her first visit to the warehouse, and SinRock was the chief distributing point to several chains of lesserposts), she was astounded at the endlessness of the wealth therestored away.This sight and the picture in her mind's eye of the bare lodge ofSnettishane, put all doubts at rest. Yet she capped her convictionby a brief word with one of her step-sons. "White daddy good?" waswhat she asked, and the boy answered that his father was the bestman he had ever known. That night the raven croaked again. On thenight following the croaking was more persistent. It awoke theFactor, who tossed restlessly for a while. Then he said aloud,"Damn that raven," and Lit-lit laughed quietly under the blankets.In the morning, bright and early, Snettishane put in an ominousappearance and was set to breakfast in the kitchen with Wanidani.He refused "squaw food," and a little later bearded his son-in-lawin the store where the trading was done. Having learned, he said,that his daughter was such a jewel, he had come for more blankets,more tobacco, and more guns--especially more guns. He hadcertainly been cheated in her price, he held, and he had come forjustice. But the Factor had neither blankets nor justice to spare.Whereupon he was informed that Snettishane had seen the missionaryat Three Forks, who had notified him that such marriages were notmade in heaven, and that it was his father's duty to demand hisdaughter back."I am good Christian man now," Snettishane concluded. "I want myLit-lit to go to heaven."The Factor's reply was short and to the point; for he directed hisfather-in-law to go to the heavenly antipodes, and by the scruff ofthe neck and the slack of the blanket propelled him on that trailas far as the door.But Snettishane sneaked around and in by the kitchen, corneringLit-lit in the great living-room of the Fort."Mayhap thou didst sleep over-sound last night when I called by theriver bank," he began, glowering darkly."Nay, I was awake and heard." Her heart was beating as though itwould choke her, but she went on steadily, "And the night before Iwas awake and heard, and yet again the night before."And thereat, out of her great happiness and out of the fear that itmight be taken from her, she launched into an original and glowingaddress upon the status and rights of woman--the first new-womanlecture delivered north of Fifty-three.But it fell on unheeding ears. Snettishane was still in the darkages. As she paused for breath, he said threateningly, "To-night Ishall call again like the raven."At this moment the Factor entered the room and again helpedSnettishane on his way to the heavenly antipodes.That night the raven croaked more persistently than ever. Lit-lit,who was a light sleeper, heard and smiled. John Fox tossedrestlessly. Then he awoke and tossed about with greaterrestlessness. He grumbled and snorted, swore under his breath andover his breath, and finally flung out of bed. He groped his wayto the great living-room, and from the rack took down a loadedshot-gun--loaded with bird-shot, left therein by the carelessMcTavish.The Factor crept carefully out of the Fort and down to the river.The croaking had ceased, but he stretched out in the long grass andwaited. The air seemed a chilly balm, and the earth, after theheat of the day, now and again breathed soothingly against him.The Factor, gathered into the rhythm of it all, dozed off, with hishead upon his arm, and slept.Fifty yards away, head resting on knees, and with his back to JohnFox, Snettishane likewise slept, gently conquered by the quietudeof the night. An hour slipped by and then he awoke, and, withoutlifting his head, set the night vibrating with the hoarse gutturalsof the raven call.The Factor roused, not with the abrupt start of civilized man, butwith the swift and comprehensive glide from sleep to waking of thesavage. In the night-light he made out a dark object in the midstof the grass and brought his gun to bear upon it. A second croakbegan to rise, and he pulled the trigger. The crickets ceased fromtheir sing-song chant, the wildfowl from their squabbling, and theraven croak broke midmost and died away in gasping silence.John Fox ran to the spot and reached for the thing he had killed,but his fingers closed on a coarse mop of hair and he turnedSnettishane's face upward to the starlight. He knew how a shotgunscattered at fifty yards, and he knew that he had pepperedSnettishane across the shoulders and in the small of the back. AndSnettishane knew that he knew, but neither referred to it"What dost thou here?" the Factor demanded. "It were time oldbones should be in bed."But Snettishane was stately in spite of the bird-shot burning underhis skin."Old bones will not sleep," he said solemnly. "I weep for mydaughter, for my daughter Lit-lit, who liveth and who yet is dead,and who goeth without doubt to the white man's hell.""Weep henceforth on the far bank, beyond ear-shot of the Fort,"said John Fox, turning on his heel, "for the noise of thy weepingis exceeding great and will not let one sleep of nights.""My heart is sore," Snettishane answered, "and my days and nightsbe black with sorrow.""As the raven is black," said John Fox."As the raven is black," Snettishane said.Never again was the voice of the raven heard by the river bank.Lit-lit grows matronly day by day and is very happy. Also, thereare sisters to the sons of John Fox's first wife who lies buried ina tree. Old Snettishane is no longer a visitor at the Fort, andspends long hours raising a thin, aged voice against the filialingratitude of children in general and of his daughter Lit-lit inparticular. His declining years are embittered by the knowledgethat he was cheated, and even John Fox has withdrawn the assertionthat the price for Lit-lit was too much by ten blankets and a gun.
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