to get out? Of course he could swim, breasting the waves that washed
into the opening, but after he had passed the entrance, it would be no
easy feat, with such a sea running, to swim along shore looking for a
place where he could climb up. It would take strenuous exertion to keep
from being dashed against the rocks. His limbs were stiff and numb from
the cold water, his head aching and dizzy, and he felt himself in poor
trim for such a struggle.
Perhaps there was some other opening from the hole. He could see that
the sloping shelf extended part way along the sides. Crawling to the
left, he found the wall continuous. There was no exit on that side. He
rolled over and crawled back and around to the right of where he had
been lying. In the dim light he could discern a black streak just where
the shelf ended. The streak proved to be, as he had hoped, a rift in the
rock. The rear and side walls, running almost at right angles, did not
quite come together, leaving a narrow break he could just squeeze his
body into. The rift was dark, the rock closing overhead, and, as there
was not room for him to stand upright, he was obliged to crawl, but the
bottom sloped sharply upward, and he could see dim light ahead. He hoped
that he had found a way to reach the top of the cliff. He had not
crawled more than fifty feet, however, when he came to the end of the
passage. It did not lead to the top, but opened out on a narrow ledge
about half-way up the side wall of another cave.
This cave was larger and higher than the one he had just left, and on
its farther side there was a pebble beach fifteen or twenty feet wide.
Ronald stared at that stretch of beach in amazement, for there on the
pebbles glowed the live embers of a fire. The boy's eyes searched every
foot of the cavern. It was better lighted than the other hole, for the
entrance, though narrow, was much higher, and even the nooks and corners
were not dim enough to conceal from his keen eyes any one in hiding. Not
a living thing, man, animal or bird, was to be seen. Men had been there
only a short time before, but they had gone and taken their belongings
with them.
To reach the beach Ronald had to let himself down into the water. The
bottom was rock and he succeeded in wading around the cave without going
in above his knees. For some reason the waves did not come into this
cavern so strongly.
On the beach he found that the fire had been made between drift logs
laid close enough together to allow a kettle or pan to rest on them.
Near by was a bed of balsam branches and other traces of a camp. He
remembered that the trail Etienne had followed had ended near this
place. Surely this camp in the cave accounted for the disappearance of
the Frenchman and the Cree. They had been here not later than a few
hours before.
The boy's mind reverted to his plunge over the cliff. He knew well that
he had not merely slipped and fallen. Something had struck him a heavy
blow from behind. He and his comrades had come upon no traces of large
animals on the island. Moreover Ronald did not know of any animal, that,
unprovoked, would be likely to attack a man in such a manner. The
inference was plain. Either Le Forgeron or his Indian companion had
stolen up on him from behind and had knocked him over the cliff. What
reason could the Blacksmith have for such an assault? Revenge
undoubtedly for Ronald's attack on him when he was torturing the poor
old squaw. But surely he had not come all this distance back from the
Sault for a mere act of vengeance. It must be, the lad thought, that Le
Forgeron was following the three adventurers with the intention of
taking the golden sand for himself. If they were near the gold, and he
knew it, he might wish to make away with them before they actually
reached the spot. But if he wanted to get rid of them, why had he not
attacked their camp two nights before, when he had the advantage and
could have slain them all in their sleep? Perhaps he had had such an
intention, but had given it up after falling from the tree, fearing that
Nangotook at least might have heard him. There was also the possibility
that Le Forgeron might not know just where the yellow sands lay, and
that he did not want to destroy all of the party until they had guided
him to the place. He had merely seized the opportunity to get even with
a personal enemy, as he certainly considered Ronald, by making away with
him in a manner that would seem wholly accidental. At any rate Ronald
was convinced that the Frenchman had made a deliberate attempt upon his
life. A glint came into the lad's blue eyes, and his mouth set in a
determined line. Instead of frightening him, the treacherous, cowardly
assault had merely steeled his determination to outwit the Blacksmith
and, in defiance and despite of him, to find and take possession of the
golden sands.
All these thoughts flashed through the lad's mind in the few moments
that he spent in examining the camping place on the pebbles. Then he
commenced to search for a way out of the cave. Except the rift by which
he had come, there was no break anywhere in the rock walls. It was
evident that there was no exit except by water. He must make his attempt
that way.
Exercise had dried his clothes somewhat, but he felt chilled to the
bone. He took off his heavy blanket tunic, and noticed as he did so that
his knife was missing. It had not fallen from the sheath, for the sheath
was gone too, the leather thong that held it to his belt cut cleanly. He
whistled between his teeth at the discovery.
Vigorously he rubbed his limbs, then rolled up the tunic and fastened it
around his neck by the sleeves, leaving his arms free for swimming, and
stepped into the water again. Keeping as close to the wall as he could,
he waded to the entrance of the cave, where he paused, waist deep in
water, to look out. The sky was blue, the wind blowing strongly, and the
waves rolling high, but rocks just outside protected the entrance
somewhat. He could make his start in comparatively smooth water, but a
few strokes either way would bring him out into the force of the waves.
He did not hesitate long, for he must make the attempt sooner or later.
He could not trust to his friends ever finding him in that well hidden
cave. Even if they followed his trail to the place where he had fallen
over, he was not sure that he would hear them, or that, calling from
below, he could make them hear his voice above the noise of the surf.
He was standing at the threshold of the cave, on a ledge across the
entrance. The outer side ran straight down, sheer with the wall above
the opening, and one step would take him into unknown depths. He made
the plunge, but had scarcely taken three strokes, when he saw that he
was close to the rift where the Frenchman and the Cree, according to
the Ojibwa's reckoning, must have lowered their canoe and scrambled down
to it. If they could go up and down there so could he, provided he could
get in without being thrown in forcibly by the water and his brains
dashed out against the walls. The waves were rolling straight into the
rift. He must let himself be carried in, and trust to his strength to
resist being battered against the rocks.
He had scarcely an instant of time to make the decision. He was borne
in, almost grazing the wall, straight towards the place where the foam
dashed to the top of the cliff. He would be thrown against the rock,
battered, stunned. But, as he was carried in, he caught sight of a point
of rock projecting from the wall just above where his head would pass.
Instinctively he threw up his right arm and grasped that rock, his
fingers gripping the tough stem of the stunted, trailing juniper that
grew upon it. With the pull of the water below and the weight of his
soaked garments, it seemed as if his arm would be torn out of the
socket, but he held on, and, with a mighty effort, raised himself up
until he could grasp the rock with his other hand also. Luckily the
strong stem of the juniper and its tough roots, that had penetrated deep
into the cracks and crannies, held fast, and the boy was able at last to
pull himself clear of the water.
He was safe for the moment, but what was he to do next? How was he to
reach the spot, near the head of the rift and beyond the foam-dashed
wall where he could climb to the top? There was no possible way to
reach it, unless he let himself down into the water again, and took the
risk of being carried against the rock by the waves. He gave a little
whistle between his teeth. Apparently he was worse off, much worse off,
than he had been in the cave. He had better have stayed there, but it
was of no use regretting that now.
He turned to examine the cliff behind him. The only possible place of
ascent was just where the point of rock he was clinging to projected
from the wall. There the wall was not quite perpendicular, there were a
few crannies and holes, and from the top another trailing juniper
sprawled part way over and hung down a few feet. It was a dangerous
ascent, but a possible one. He could not remain where he was, inactive,
the cold wind blowing on his soaked clothes, without chilling to the
bone.
Crouched on the projecting rock, he wrung the water out of his clothes
as well as he could without taking them off. There was no room to do
that. Then he crawled along a little, put the fingers of his right hand
into a hole in the cliff, and cautiously pulled himself up to a standing
position, leaning against the wall. Clinging with his fingers and
moccasined toes to every little cranny and hollow, his body sprawled
flat against the rock, he made his way, slowly, carefully up, a few
inches at a time, until he could grasp with his left hand the stout
hanging stem of the juniper. After that it was easier, and he pulled
himself safely over the edge not far from the place where he had fallen
down.
As soon as he was safe again, Ronald became conscious that his head was
throbbing painfully. He had hardly felt it since he came out of the
crack into the larger cavern. He was shivering with cold too, and his
one desire was to get back to camp as soon as possible.
The sun was setting when he came out of the woods at the southern end of
the island. He shouted, and Jean appeared from the other side of the
cabin, where, out of range of the wind, he was getting supper. He waved
his hand in cheery greeting, then stopped and stared at the figure
Ronald presented, his clothes only half dried, his cap gone, his hair
and forehead stained with blood.
"_Ciel!_ What has come to you?" he cried. His startled exclamation
brought the Indian around the hut.
Crouched close to the fire, upon which Jean heaped fuel, Ronald told the
story of his adventures. The others listened, each according to his
nature, Jean with amazed expression and frequent exclamations and
questions, Etienne silently, with grave, stern face.
When Ronald had finished, the Indian made but one comment. "Your
guardian spirit must be very powerful," he said, "or the manito of the
waters favors you." Then, as if remembering suddenly that he was a
Christian, he hastened to add in a devout tone, "The good God above was
indeed watching over you."
"'Tis true I have been miraculously saved," Ronald replied, "but why,
think you, is Le Forgeron on this island? Are we near the Island of
Yellow Sands then? I would that we could resume our search for it."
"We will resume it as soon as this gale blows itself out," replied Jean
confidently. "We are near it I am sure, and now we know which way to
go."
"What do you mean?" cried Ronald. "Have you gained some new knowledge
then?"
"Truly we have," Jean answered springing to his feet. "Look, over
there!" And he pointed across the water to the southwest.
Ronald rose and gazed. The wind had driven away cloud, mist and haze.
Land, for days shut off by thick weather, was distinctly visible.
XIV
LOST IN THE FOG
All that night the wind blew a gale, dashing the waves on the rocks,
where they broke in showers of foam and spray that gleamed white in the
moonlight, for the sky was cloudless and the air clear and cold.
When the gold-seekers looked off across the water next morning they met
with a surprise. Far away to the west stretched a dim blue shape like
the figure of a gigantic man lying on his back.
"The Cape of Nanabozho," exclaimed the Indian in an awe-struck tone.
"The Sleeping Giant himself," the lads cried, and Jean added, "Are we
not then far west of our course? Surely we should not be able to see the
Pointe au Tonnerre."
Nangotook shook his head. "Who knows," he said, "how far the Cape of
Thunder may be seen? Is it not the home of Nanabozho himself? Who knows
that it may not come and go in the sight of men at the will of the
manito?"
"But," objected Ronald, "you said that island on the east shore was the
grave of Nanabozho. What has he to do with the Cape of Thunder?"
Nangotook looked puzzled. "It is true," he said slowly, "my people say
the manito makes his dwelling on that island to the east, but they say
also that the Cape of Thunder is formed in his likeness, and they leave
offerings to him there. It may be," the Ojibwa added, his face clearing,
"that part of the time he lives in one place, part of the time in the
other. Why not? Spirits may be in many places. They do not travel slowly
like men, who creep along with much labor. What do the manitos know of
paddling and of portages? They cross high hills at a stride, and the
land and water are alike to them. Do not the white fathers say that God
is a spirit and that He is everywhere?"
"Hush, hush, Etienne!" cried Jean scandalized. "Would you speak of the
good God and your heathen manitos in the same breath, and even compare
them with Him? And you a Christian! It is sacrilege!"
The Ojibwa looked abashed. "I _am_ a Christian, I worship the one great
spirit as the fathers taught me," he answered somewhat sullenly. He
started to turn away, but Ronald spoke to him.
"Surely," the boy insisted, "we're out of our course. We've been driven
too far to the west, and must seek our island towards the east. Is that
not true?"
"It may be," Nangotook grunted, "if that is the true cape."
"Of course it is the cape. What else could it be?"
"A sign from the manito himself," growled the Indian, and turned his
back.
The lads were not unimpressed by Nangotook's words and manner. The dim
figure, like a great man outstretched in sleep, seemed mysterious and
uncanny enough to their imaginations. Thunder Cape is the eastern
boundary of Thunder Bay on the northwest shore of Superior, and it is
only its highest part that is visible far across the lake, the lower
land sinking entirely out of view and leaving the Giant lying solitary
on the water.
"Etienne says it is a sign," Jean remarked in a low voice. "Does he
think the omen good or bad, I wonder?"
Ronald shook his head. "I doubt if he knows what he thinks, but what is
that to us? If we ever find the gold, we will secure it in spite of all
the Indian devils in the lake." He spoke hotly, eager to prove to
himself as well as to his companion that he had no faith in or respect
for the power of such heathen spirits and demons.
Jean looked a little frightened at his friend's bold tone. Nangotook
turned on him with a stern face. "Speak not so of the manitos of these
waters," he said peremptorily, "lest you rouse their wrath and bring
disaster on us all." And with a glance of scorn at the offending lad, he
walked away.
"Nangotook is but a weak kind of Christian," Ronald remarked sneeringly.
"He still puts his faith in these manitos of his and fears them." The
boy was smarting under the Indian's rebuke.
Jean shook his head doubtfully. "He is a Christian," he replied, "but,
being an Indian, he has seen instances of the power of the spirits of
the lake. I, too, am a Christian, as you very well know, and have no
veneration for such savage gods and devils, but I have heard strange
tales of their doings and of the power of their priests. Father René
says the medicine men's gifts are surely of the devil, but that good
Christians who put their faith in a higher power need have no fear of
them. Yet I can see no good in offending the spirits needlessly, and
bringing their enmity upon us by foolish speeches."
To this argument, which indicated that Jean upheld the Indian in his
rebuke, Ronald found no ready answer. Indeed in his heart he was not so
contemptuous of the manito's powers as he appeared, and was just a bit
uneasy over his own defiance. The feeling was not strong enough,
however, to shake his determination to find the wonderful island and to
carry off a goodly sample of its golden sands.
The wind was still blowing so strongly from the west as to make
traveling impossible. Ronald had suffered no ill effects, except a
little stiffness of the muscles, from his soaking and chilling of the
day before, but the wound on his forehead and a lump on the back of his
head pained him considerably, so he did not care to exert himself. He
remained in camp, spending his time mending his clothes and making a
hare skin cap to replace the toque he had lost when he fell over the
cliff. The others fished on the lea side of the island, visited the
snares, and searched for some signs of the man or beast that had
attacked the boy. With the exception of some footprints at the edge of
the cliff, prints made by a larger moccasin than Ronald wore, there was
no trace of the mysterious enemy. The tracks were found in one place
only, where a little earth had lodged on the rock. On the almost bare
rocks round about, no marks were discernible. Jean and Etienne would
have been glad to explore the caves under the cliff, but the high wind
of that day and the following one made it impossible to use the canoe on
that side of the island.
The second evening after Ronald's fall from the cliff, a wonderful
aurora borealis, more brightly colored than any the boys had ever seen,
waved its streamers of green, yellow, orange and flame-red over the
northern sky. Nangotook regarded it with awe, and muttered something in
his own language that the boys could not understand.
The next night the wind went down with the sun, but when the lads crept
into their blankets, the long roll of the waves had not subsided enough
to make launching the canoe safe. Since they had learned of the presence
of an enemy on the island, one or another of the three had kept awake
and watchful all night. When Ronald took his turn before dawn, he left
the wigwam and scrambled down the rocks to get a drink of water. He was
pleased to find that the waves had smoothed out into long, gentle
swells. "We can surely cross to that other land to-day," he thought. He
was too impatient to put off departure, however. Why wait till daylight?
The sun would come up in another hour or two. If they started at once,
they could make the trip before there was any danger of the wind rising
again, and, moreover, their enemies, who might be on the watch
somewhere, would be less likely to see them go.
The lad returned to the shelter, aroused the others and explained his
plan. Jean was eager to go, and Nangotook grunted his assent. The idea
of stealing a march on their enemies appealed to the Indian's love of
strategy. Dawn was just beginning to break, when everything was ready.
But Nangotook suddenly became reluctant to start out. He pointed to the
mist that lay on the water and dimmed the stars. "Fog come soon," he
said.
"'Tis only the morning haze," replied Ronald. "'Tis not thick enough to
hinder us, and it will disappear at sunrise."
"We shall be there by sunrise if we start now," Jean added confidently.
"That land is not far away. An hour's paddling will surely take us
there."
"Better wait and see," said the Ojibwa.
But the boys insisted. They were impatient to be gone, and could not
endure the thought of further delay. Ronald especially was stubbornly
determined. He knew better than to accuse Nangotook openly of cowardice,
but he hinted so plainly that the Indian might be influenced by fear,
that the latter's pride was touched. Suddenly breaking short the
argument, he picked up the canoe, stalked into the water with it, and
held it ready for the lads to step in.
They began their trip in silence. During the stay on the island
Nangotook had whittled out two paddles to replace the ones they had
lost, and now, as was his custom, he took the bow, with Jean in the
stern. In the dim light and the haze they could not make out the land to
which they were going, but they knew the direction, and had no fear of
missing the place unless the mist grew denser.
It did grow denser. The light breeze was almost directly south now and
it brought the fog. Gradually, and at first almost imperceptibly, the
haze thickened. Nangotook and the boys paddled with all their strength
and speed, the latter confident that they would soon reach their
destination, the Indian so silent and stolid that it was impossible to
guess at his thoughts. Then suddenly, all in a moment as it seemed, the
fog folded them in its thick white blanket. Nangotook grunted as if to
say "I told you so," but did not lessen the speed of his stroke. To turn
back was useless. There was better chance of keeping their direction
true if they went ahead, for in turning they would almost inevitably
lose their bearings.
The breeze was driving the fog, and as they went on, Jean and Ronald
were sure, from the angle at which they took the waves and the way the
breeze struck them, that they were keeping the course and would soon
reach land. They strained their ears for the sound of water lapping on
rocks or sand beach, and peered through the thickness for the shadowy,
looming shape of cliffs or trees.
On and on they went. The fog whitened with the coming of dawn, but did
not lessen or disperse. It blew and shifted from time to time, but never
thinned enough to give them a clear view for more than a few feet in any
direction. Either the land they had seen was much farther away than they
had estimated, or they were out of their course. The Indian had nothing
to say, and the lads could not tell whether he had really lost his
bearings and knew it, or believed himself to be going in the right
direction. When they questioned him, he answered only with grunts. They
had scorned his advice, and had hurt his pride by implying that he was
afraid to set out. Now he was letting them take their punishment.
They were certainly being well punished. As they paddled on through the
fog, without a sound or glimpse of anything that suggested land, both
boys grew very uneasy. After all, perhaps Nangotook had been right,
perhaps the sleeping Nanabozho had actually shown himself to them as a
warning to their rashness, or perhaps Ronald's bold speech had really
offended some manito. Neither boy would have admitted to the other that
he had such thoughts, but they lived in a superstitious age, and there
were many strange tales current among the voyageurs of the powers of the
Indian spirits and of their priests or shamans.
The brightening of the fog showed the advance of day. Yet the
adventurers went on and on and on. The thought occurred to both lads
that the land they had seen might not be real at all, but only a mirage
or a false appearance sent by the evil spirits to lure them to their
deaths. There in that dense, chilling mist, cut off as it seemed from
the world of men, and going perhaps into the very middle of the great
lake, whose mysteries neither Indian nor white man had ever fully
penetrated, such thoughts were far from pleasant.
Even fear could not still the pangs of hunger in healthy boys, however,
or make them quite forget that they had had no breakfast. The birch
basket still held the remains of the hare stew from their evening meal,
so Ronald helped himself to a share of it, and then took the stern
paddle while Jean breakfasted. Nangotook, however, refused to give up
his paddle or to eat.
The day wore away, and still the blades dipped with regular rhythm. The
stroke was slower and easier now, for there was no reason, lost as they
were for haste or speed. They paddled merely to keep headway on the
canoe and to strike the waves at the right angle. And still, hour after
hour, they went on and on, Jean and Ronald taking turns at the stern
paddle, the Indian never yielding up his place in the bow.
Ronald was plying his paddle mechanically, a dull apathy having settled
down on his spirit, as the hour of silence and white mist passed, and
Jean, stretched out on the bottom of the canoe, had fallen asleep when
Nangotook, who had been sullenly silent all day, spoke suddenly. "Land,"
he said and jerked his head towards the left.