Every one gathered around Toby and the chest. The Indians were no less
excited than were Charley and Toby. Again the chest was searched, but
with no result, until Charley thrust his hand into the cotton bag in
which Toby had kept the missing pelt, and drew forth a piece of paper.
"Here's something!" he exclaimed. "It's a note that man wrote and left."
"Read un! Read un to me, Charley!" Toby asked, and Charley read:
"To TOBY TWIG:
"I forgot to give you credit slip for the silver fox skin before
you went to bed. I may forget to give it to you in the morning, so
I will put this in the bag where you will find it. You may use this
as a credit memorandum. You may have trade goods from my store at
White Bear Run to the value of $550.00 at any time you wish to take
the goods.
"JACOB MARKS."
"I didn't trade he the silver!" Toby protested. "I'm not wantin' his
goods! I sold he the otter, and told he the silver was for Dad to sell
when he comes home from his path!"
"Of course you didn't sell it to him," Charley vouched indignantly.
"He's a crook! I knew it right away! He stole it! He's going to try to
make out that you sold it to him for five hundred and fifty dollars in
trade."
"I wants the silver back," said Toby decisively. "I'll get un, too! Come
on, Charley, we'll go for un now."
"All right, Toby, _I'll_ help you get it! We'll make that fellow hand it
over, if we ever catch him," and Charley meant every word of it.
"What is you lads about?" asked Mrs. Twig anxiously, as Toby and Charley
began to change to their traveling moccasins.
"Charley and I'll be gettin' the silver back," said Toby firmly.
"Marks'll be gettin' no farther than David Dyson's to-day, whatever, and
Charley and I'll be catchin' he by marnin'. If we don't we'll follow he
till we does, won't we, now, Charley? We'll be gettin' the silver."
"I'll stick to you, whatever you do," said Charley.
"You lads can't be goin' alone, whatever," objected Mrs. Twig.
"I'm goin' to get that silver!" persisted Toby.
"Don't be hasty, lads. Ask Amishku what he thinks about un," suggested
Mrs. Twig. "I'm fearin' to have you lads go."
In his excitement Toby had failed to interpret the note to the Indians,
nor had he told them of his purpose of following Marks, and they were
looking curiously on without understanding the conversation.
When Toby now told them in their own language the contents of the note
which Charley had found in the bag, and of his own and Charley's
intention of following Marks and recovering the pelt, and of his
mother's objection, the Indians were interested in behalf of their
friends. They gathered at once in council. Shortly Amishku turned to
Toby, and said:
"You are our friends and you are in trouble. We wish to help you. Your
silver fox skin has been stolen, and we will help you find the man that
stole it, and get it back for you. We are on our way to the Hudson's
Bay Company's Post at Snow Inlet. At Pinch-In Tickle we must turn north.
The man that stole your fur is from White Bear Run. That is south.
"This man left here this morning. He has been traveling all day. We must
go now and travel all night if we overtake him soon. I will go with you
and my brother Maigen[15] will go with you. You will take my things and
my brother's things on your sledge. Our three friends will follow
to-morrow and bring their flat sleds with their loads. At Pinch-In
Tickle they will wait for us if we are not there before them. We will
leave my brother's things and my own things at Pinch-In Tickle and go
south until we find the man that stole your fur. Then we will get the
fur and come back to Pinch-In Tickle where our friends will be waiting.
"Are you ready? We must go, and we must travel fast, that we may not
lose the man's trail."
There was hustle and bustle at once. Toby and Charley brought in the
komatik box that Mrs. Twig might pack in it necessary provisions and
other equipment. The Indians packed their goods upon the komatik,
together with the boys' sleeping bags, and Toby and Charley harnessed
the dogs.
All of these preparations required but a few minutes, and when they were
ready, and as the boys were leaving, Mrs. Twig plead with Toby to
prevent the Indians "hurting the poor man," even if he would not
surrender the fur.
"I'd shoot he myself," said Toby, "if he wouldn't give un up. I would,
I'm that self-willed!"
"Don't be hard on the poor man now," admonished Mrs. Twig as Toby broke
the dogs loose and they dashed away in the starlight.
The ice was firm and with few hummocks, and the snow that covered it was
frozen nearly as hard as the ice beneath it. The dogs made fast
progress, taking a steady trotting gait, with Toby and Charley trotting
beside the komatik and the two Indians ahead following the trail of
Marks to be certain that it did not turn to some other quarter.
This was an adventure indeed for Charley. He had never before seen
Indians other than those exhibited in shows in New York. But these were
different. They had never tasted civilization. They were like the
Indians that Natty Bumpo knew, and of which Charley had read in Cooper's
tales. He thrilled with the thought that he was traveling with Indians
quite as primitive as those which Henry Hudson met when he first sailed
up the river that was named after him. These, indeed, he was happy to
think, might be the descendants of some of those very Indians, still
living the untamed, free life of their primordial ancestors.
It was still dark when the komatik drew up before the cabins at Pinch-In
Tickle, now grown familiar to Charley. Here the Indians quickly unloaded
the komatik, while Toby and Charley lighted a fire in the stove and put
the kettle on to boil; and while Toby fried some fresh caribou steak,
the two Indians ran down the trail to assure themselves that Marks had
turned to the southward instead of to the northward.
Presently they were back to report that the ice was safe through the
tickle, and that Marks had gone, as Toby had expected, southward.
Charley was glad of the opportunity for a short rest, and both boys were
hungry. The moment they had eaten, however, the Indians were on their
feet keen for the chase. The sledge was lightly laden now, and the dogs
traveled so rapidly that Charley and Toby were able to ride much of the
time, though the Indians ran ahead to keep their eye on the trail.
Presently dawn came, and before they turned into the bay to the
southward it was full daylight. It was at this time that Amishku, who
was some distance in advance, held up his hand and signaled Toby to
stop. The two Indians in a moment were lost to view among the boulders
that lined the shore, and into which they crept.
"I wonder what's up?" asked Charley, no little excited by the
occurrence.
"I'm not knowin'. Maybe 'tis some game they sees. 'Tis not like that
Marks would be bidin' hereabouts. He sure went on to Dyson's or Slade's,
whatever," answered Toby, no less mystified than was Charley.
Not more than fifteen minutes had passed, though it seemed to the boys
much longer, when they saw the Indians returning, and when they joined
them at the komatik Amishku held out the silver fox pelt to Toby.
"We got the silver fox skin for our friend, and we are glad," said
Amishku, in high good humour. "The man who stole it will never steal
again."
"You--don't mean--you--killed him?" asked Toby, suddenly sorry that he
had permitted the Indians to come, and so horrified at the thought that
the Indians might have done such a thing for him that he could scarcely
speak.
"No," answered Amishku. "His dogs kill him. The dogs are there. The
sledge is there. Not much of the man is there."
"The gray dog!" exclaimed Toby.
They drove their team nearer to the scene of the tragedy. A horrible
thing met their view, and they quickly turned from it--blood-stained
snow, pieces of torn clothing, and other evidences of the tragedy that
had taken place.
The gray dog and his mates were still held in leash by their harness,
and Toby decided that they should drive on to Aaron Slade's cabin to
tell him what had happened and to ask his assistance. And when they
reached Aaron's and he had listened to their story, he said:
"I'll drive my team over and take care of un, lads. 'Tis no job for lads
like you."