AN ENCOUNTER WITH THE NATIVES.
Jack hastened to the store-room and found that the wily natives in
their soft-soled skin shoes had wrought great havoc there, while he,
all unconsciously in the engine-room, was working without dreaming
that there were unwelcome visitors on board. The _Yukon Rover_ was
well stocked with food and there were settlements up the river where
the raided stock could be replenished, but it annoyed the boy to think
that the plundering rascals had had such an easy time in absconding
with what they had abstracted from the steamer's larder.
"It's a lesson to keep a sharp lookout," thought the boy to himself.
"In future we'll keep all bidarkas at long range unless they can give
an account of themselves."
The boy went back to his work, but this time with a rifle beside him.
He was still at his task when he heard voices.
"Cracky! It's those rascals coming back, I'll bet a doughnut," he
exclaimed to himself excitedly.
With hands that shook a little, he picked up the rifle and prepared to
give them a warm reception. As he was stepping out on deck, he
collided with a figure just entering the engine-room door.
"Stop right where you are or I'll fire!" he cried out in a loud tone.
"What's the matter with you, Jack, are you crazy?" cried a voice that
he instantly recognized as Tom's.
His relief was great, and as the hunting party, laden with three
geese, some ducks and shore birds, came into the deck-house,
explanations ensued. It appeared that the hunting party had been
almost as much alarmed as Jack, for they had heard the report of his
rifle and had hastened back at once without lingering at their sport.
Naturally Jack's tale of the occurrences during their absence aroused
a good deal of indignation. Mr. Chillingworth, however, said he was
not surprised. The Yukon Indians are great thieves, and it is
necessary to be on constant watch against them. He was astonished,
though, at Jack's story of the dart from the _nogock_.
"These Indians don't usually resort to anything like that," he said.
"That old chief must be what the police in the Yukon country call a
'bad one.' I suppose he saw that only a boy opposed him and his men,
and he intended to give you a good scare."
"Well, he succeeded all right," declared Jack, with conviction, "but I
guess I managed to give him as good as he gave me. The way those
bidarkas shot around that bend was a caution."
"Do you think there is any chance of their coming back again?" asked
Tom. "Because if there is, we might give them a warm reception."
"I hardly think they'll return," said Mr. Dacre. "They were probably
on their way to St. Michaels. That raid on our store-room must have
been a wind-fall for them."
"Hoot! I'd take a wind-fall oot of them if I had my way," grunted
Sandy. "Can't we take the dinghy" (for the _Rover_ carried a small
boat), "and get after them?"
"They are probably miles away by this time," said Mr. Chillingworth.
"I guess the shot that Jack fired after them gave them considerable to
think about. I doubt if they'll be in a hurry to attack another boat."
Supper, cooked on a gasolene stove in a small galley by Tom and Jack,
who were quite expert as cooks, was served in the large cabin which
did duty as both living and dining room.
Jack announced that his engines were once more in A1 shape, but it was
decided that as they were all tired it would be better to remain
where they were for the night. By this time the boys had become quite
used to going to bed by daylight, although at first it had been a very
odd sensation. They were soon asleep, and their elders, after
discussing the prospects of the trip for some little time longer,
followed the lads' example and sought their cabins. Before long the
_Yukon Rover_ was wrapped in slumber and silence, only the swift
ripple of the current, as it ran by, breaking the stillness.
It was Tom who first opened his eyes with the indefinable but distinct
idea that something was wrong. It was almost dark, so he knew that it
must be after midnight. What the trouble he vaguely guessed at could
be, he was at an utter loss to determine, but the feeling was so
strong that he slipped on some clothes and emerged on deck.
He looked about him for a minute and almost decided that he had been
the victim of one of those transient impressions that often come to
those abruptly awakened from sleep.
But almost simultaneously with this idea the truth broke sharply upon
him like a thunderclap.
"Uncle!" he shouted. "Boys! Wake up! We are drifting down stream!"
The others were awake in an instant, and in all sorts of costumes they
crowded out on deck. Jack carried a rifle under the impression that
they had been attacked.
"What's the matter?"
"Is it the natives again?"
"Are we attacked?"
These and half a dozen other questions assailed Tom's ears before he
was enabled to point out the true state of affairs.
"We are drifting rapidly down the stream," he said. "We must be far
from where we tied up."
This was unquestionably the truth. The _Yukon Rover_ was not only
drifting on the swift current, but was near the middle of the stream
where the tide was more rapid than at the sides. In the deep twilight,
which is the far northern night, they could see the low-lying banks
slipping by like a moving panorama.
The profound stillness rendered the scene still more impressive as the
alarmed party stood thunderstruck on the deck of the castaway steamer.
"What can have happened?" demanded Jack.
"Perhaps the mooring rope broke," suggested Sandy.
"Not likely. It was a brand new one of the best manilla," declared Mr.
Dacre. "There is more in this than appears."
"The first thing to do is to get out an anchor before we drift down on
a sand-bar," said Mr. Chillingworth.
"Yes, it's a miracle we haven't struck one already," agreed Mr. Dacre.
The boys hustled off to get overboard the heavy spare anchor that the
drifting steamer carried on her bow. But as the splash that announced
that it was in the stream came to their ears and the rope began to
tauten, there was a heavy shock that almost threw them all off their
feet.
"Let out more rope!" cried Tom, thinking that the sudden tautening of
the anchor rope had caused the shock.
"No need to do that," said Mr. Dacre, "we are anchored hard and fast."
"Where?"
"On a sand-bar."