A SIGNIFICANT DISCOVERY.
Game is so scarce in the valley of the Upper Yukon and in the Klondike
country that many gold-seekers take no firearms at all with them. Years
ago the Indians showed occasional hostility toward the missions and
trading-posts, but nothing now is to be feared from them. They are
often hired to help carry loads through the passes, and with that
aptitude for imitating the white man, they have speedily learned to
charge high prices for their labor.
Before leaving Juneau, Jeff Graham presented each of his little party
with an excellent revolver, quoting the remark which a cowboy once made
to a tenderfoot:
"You may not want the weapon often, but when you do you'll want it
mighty bad."
Jeff took with him his own pistol which he had carried for years,
besides which he was provided with a fine Winchester rifle. He knew he
was not likely to find any use for it in shooting game, but he grimly
observed that if a pistol should prove handy, the larger weapon was apt
to prove much more so.
The Indian who engaged to take them to the foot of Lake Lindeman was
old, but wiry and tough, and understood his business. He could speak a
few words of English, which were enough for his purposes. He raised a
small soiled sail of canvas on the scow, and with the help of a long
pole kept the heavily laden craft moving. Although the lake was open
thus early in the season, the shores were lined with ice, much of it
extending into the water for a number of rods. Huge cakes sometimes
bumped against the scow, but they caused no damage, and did not
interfere with its progress.
The three men who had first engaged the boat looked as if they had come
a long distance. Our friends had no recollection of having seen them on
the steamer from Seattle or on the steam launch that connects Juneau
with Dyea at the head of Lynn Canal. Where they came from, therefore,
was a mystery, the probability being that they had been loitering about
Dyea for a long time, waiting for the season to advance sufficiently to
allow them to start for the Yukon. They seemed reserved to the point of
sullenness, keeping by themselves and showing so much antipathy to any
approach that they were let alone.
But just before the foot of the lake, nearly six miles distant, was
reached, Frank Mansley made an interesting discovery. The most
ill-favored of the trio was an acquaintance of Ike Hardman. No one else
noticed the significant fact, and it was partly through accident that
the truth came to the lad.
The two men acted as if strangers, not exchanging a word on the
passage, and seemingly feeling no interest in each other. All of
Frank's friends were near the bow of the boat, looking to where they
were soon to touch shore. Two of the strangers were standing just back
of and near them, while Hardman was in the middle of the boat,
apparently watching the old Indian as he plied his paddle with untiring
vigor.
The third stranger was at the stern, seated on the gunwale, smoking a
clay pipe and seemingly taking no note of anything about him. When Ike
Hardman sauntered among the piles of luggage to the rear, Frank was
impelled by an impulse for which he could not account to watch him. He
had no well-defined suspicion, and least of all did he suspect what
proved to be the truth.
Hardman halted a few paces from the man sitting on the edge of the
boat, and, so far as appearances went, did not pay any attention to
him. A quick, furtive glance to the front put the lad on his guard, and
he, too, turned his face toward land, but his position was such that he
could look sideways at the two, while not seeming to do so.
Suddenly Hardman, with his back partly toward the youth, made a sign
with his hands, the meaning of which Frank could not catch, because the
signal was not fully seen, but the fellow sitting down nodded his head,
and taking his pipe from between his lips, said something in so guarded
a voice that only the ears for which the words were intended could
understand them.
This brief interchange ought to have been enough, but Hardman did not
appear to think so. He stepped somewhat closer, and he, too, spoke,
still gesticulating with one of his hands. The man addressed was
impatient. He nodded again in a jerky fashion, and made answer with
less caution, as a consequence of which the eavesdropper caught the
words, "Yes, yes, to-night; I understand."
[Illustration: SUDDENLY HARDMAN MADE A SIGN.]
Hardman was satisfied, and came back to the front of the boat, which
was now approaching the shore. His friend smoked a few minutes until
the scow bumped against the projection of ice, and, the old Indian
leaping lightly out, carried the heavy stone anchor as far as the rope
would permit. This held the boat in place, and the unloading began. The
Indian offered to help for an extravagant price, but his offer was
refused, and the respective parties busied themselves with their own
work.
The discovery made by Frank Mansley caused him considerable uneasiness.
The dislike which he felt toward Hardman the first time he saw him had
never abated, and it was the same with his cousin. Young as they were,
they felt that a great mistake was made when Hardman was allowed to
join the party, and they wondered that Jeff permitted it, but, as has
been shown, they were too discreet to object.
That Hardman, on his part, detested the youths was apparent, though he
tried to conceal the feeling when he feared it might attract the
attention of others. He had little to say to them or they to him. Frank
decided to tell his chum of the discovery he had made, and they would
consult as to whether they should take Jeff and Tim into their
confidence.
Meanwhile, the trio gathered their loads upon their backs and started
northward without so much as calling good-by to those whom they left
behind, and who were not sorry to part company with them.
The gold-hunters had had a little lift on their journey, but it was not
worth considering, in view of what remained before them. A mile advance
with sleds and their packs took them to the head of Lake Bennet, where
it may be said the navigation of the Yukon really begins. The lake is
about twenty-eight miles long, contains a number of islands, and in
going to the foot one passes from Alaska into British Columbia. Along
its shores were scores of miners, busily engaged in building boats with
which to make the rest of the journey. Sad to say, owing to their
impatience and lack of skill, some of the boats were so flimsy and
ill-constructed that they were certain to go to pieces in the fierce
rapids below, and add their owners to the long list of victims whose
bodies strew the pathway from Chilkoot to the Upper Yukon.
Here, too, it became necessary for our friends to build a craft, and
since it was comparatively early in the day, Jeff and Tim, each with an
axe over his shoulder, went into the wood, already partly cut down,
Hardman accompanying them, in order to bear his turn. The boys remained
behind to guard the property, though their neighbors were so occupied
with their own affairs that they gave them little heed. Frank took the
opportunity to tell his companion what he had observed on the boat
while crossing the lake.
"Hardman has joined our company for some evil purpose," said Roswell,
"and the other man is his partner in the plot."
"But they are gone, and we may not see them again."
"One of them, at least, has an understanding with Hardman, and will
keep him within hailing distance."
"We will say nothing to Jeff or Tim until to-morrow; I fear that we
shall learn something to-night."
The boy was right in his supposition.