we still have time to find and secure the gold before winter comes,
would be foolish as well as craven. But 'tis of no use to seek it near
here. We're too far south and west, according to Nangotook's own story.
We must travel on to the north end of this island first. From there we
may get a glimpse of the place we seek. If not, we can at least strike
north and east for a day or even a half day's journey. If then we come
not within sight of the isle, it will be time enough to give up the
search. What say you, Jean?"
"I am as loath to give it up as you," Jean replied, "and," he added more
cheerfully, "I think your plan a good one. As you say, we can at least
postpone talk of turning back until we have made one more attempt. Let
us return to our camp and be in readiness to go on. The strait we
crossed is somewhat sheltered. We can go on along it, perhaps to-night,
to-morrow at the latest."
The Indian said nothing. Jean glanced at his impassive face, then
thinking to change the subject, asked, "What came you to the island
for, Etienne? You say you have visited it before."
"For copper, little brother," the Ojibwa answered. "On the northern side
of this island, copper stones can be picked up from the shores and dug
out of the hillsides, sometimes in pieces as large as my hand," holding
out his closed fist, "not in such little bits as this," and he pointed
with his toe to the rock at his feet.
The boys had been too much interested in the distant prospect to notice
the rock on which they stood. Now as they glanced down, Jean uttered an
exclamation, "Look, Ronald, this is copper rock indeed." Scattered here
and there were streaks and flecks of free metal.
Ronald bent to examine it "Truly it is copper," he said, "but in bits
too small to be of any value. Had we time we might prospect and come
upon larger veins. 'Tis like enough that this whole ridge is rich with
it. But we've no time to make a search. We're seeking a far more
precious metal, where it may be gathered easily without the labor of
digging and blasting." And he started to lead the way back over their
trail.
The trip down the ridge and to the shore was made much more quickly than
the upward journey. The explorers had not taken the trouble to blaze
their way, though Nangotook had sliced off a branch here and there with
his ax. In the woods the signs of their passage were clear enough for an
experienced woodsman to follow almost without conscious thought, while
the downward slope of the ground most of the way to the stream, and the
Indian habit of taking swift but sure note of surroundings furnished
them with more than sufficient guidance everywhere. Nangotook led again
and went swiftly and unhesitatingly, scarcely appearing to look about
him.
During the whole trip up and back they saw no caribou tracks, but they
came upon many traces of hares and lynxes, squirrels scolded at them
from the trees, and, as they reached the stream, a mink, that had been
fishing, glided swiftly up the opposite bank. Ronald inquired if the
Indians ever trapped on Minong, but Etienne answered that he had never
heard of any one wintering there. "Too far from mainland," he said. "Too
hard to get across when wind blows and storm comes."
They found the canoe safe, their camping place undisturbed, and the
package of caribou meat untouched. The wind was now directly in the
north, and the harbor or strait was well enough protected by its
northwest shore to make traveling along it safe. Delaying only for a
meal of caribou meat, the three embarked again, with the intention of
going as far as possible before darkness came.
XIX
LE FORGERON TORDU AGAIN
The stretch of water proved to be a long bay, with continuous shore on
its northwest side, and a chain of wooded islands sheltering it from the
southeast. The gold-seekers paddled steadily until nightfall compelled
them to make a landing in a little cove beyond a point. Navigation
through unknown waters, where reefs and shoals might be encountered, was
perilous in the darkness. Though sharp and cold, the night was clear, so
the three did not crawl under the canoe, but lay down in the open with
their feet to the fire. When they woke at dawn, the fire had gone out,
and ground and trees around them were silvered with white frost. The
boys were stiff and chilled, but the exercise of cutting wood, and a
breakfast of hot caribou broth, made from the dried meat boiled in the
birch bark basket, soon warmed them.
Paddling out from the cove, their blades keeping time to
"L'on, ton, laridon, danée,
L'on, ton, laridon, dai,"
they continued to the northeast along a rock coast, now rising in steep
cliffs, again sloping gradually to the water, but broken, eaten out,
riven and piled up into all sorts of shapes. The protecting islands, a
half mile or more away, became smaller, farther apart and more barren.
Soon the rock shore terminated in a point, and the travelers turned to
the north, ran past the end of the point, and found themselves crossing
another bay. To left and to right were wooded islands, while ahead
stretched a long, forest-crowned ridge, which appeared to be several
hundred feet high.
"That must be part of the same ridge we climbed," said Ronald eyeing it
with interest.
The Indian grunted an assent. "Runs through whole of Minong," he
replied.
The rising wind, penetrating between the islands, made paddling hard
work, until the voyageurs reached the shelter of the high ridge. There,
turning to the northeast again, they followed a narrow passage between
ridge and islands, where the water was scarcely disturbed by a ripple.
But when they came out from shelter, near the end of a long, high point,
the full force of the wind struck them, and they were glad to turn back
and make a landing on a bit of pebble beach.
Before they turned, however, they saw, as they looked out over the
heaving waves of the lake, a bit of land to the northeast. When they had
carried the canoe up on the beach, the two boys with one accord started
to make their way to the end of the point, in the hope of getting a
better view of the speck of land across the water. They estimated that
it was four or five miles away. It was exactly in the direction they
intended to take in their search for the Island of Yellow Sands. Was it
the long-sought-for island, lying now in plain view?
Nangotook, who had followed the lads, did not think so. "Island we came
from," he said briefly, pointing to it.
"You mean the place where we were wind-bound so long?" Jean asked. "I
cannot think it. That must be farther away. Think how long we traveled
in the fog!"
"May have been going round and round part of the time. No way to tell
after fog got thick. Over there," and Nangotook pointed across the water
to the west of the bit of land, "Nanabozho."
The Sleeping Giant was faintly but unmistakably discernible lying on the
water. When the boys considered his position, and the view they had had
of him from the island, they began to be afraid that Nangotook was
right, that the land to the northeast was only the place where they had
been delayed so long, and not the Island of Golden Sands. They were
loath to give up their new-born hope, however. As Ronald said, the only
way to find out was to go and see. To cross those heaving waves in the
teeth of the strong north wind was out of the question. Once more they
must wait for favorable weather.
They went back to the more sheltered spot where they had landed. There
they came upon something that put their disappointment, at not being
able to cross to the island, out of their heads for the time being.
Farther along the pebble beach they found the ashes of a fire and the
bones and uneatable remains of a hare. Near by was the pole skeleton of
a shelter, resting against the face of a rock. The Indian, after
examining the place closely, concluded that the fire had been burning
and the hare had been dressed and cooked since the rain of two nights
before, but he doubted if the shelter had been occupied the past night.
Probably the campers had not been away from the place over thirty-six
hours at the farthest.
The boys were greatly excited over the find. Was this the camp of Le
Forgeron Tordu and his Indian companion, and were the two still on their
trail? The only way to answer the first question was to find their
tracks. The pebble beach retained no clear traces of moccasined feet,
and the men had doubtless departed by canoe, but back from the beach,
part way up the slope, where the trees stood thick and the rock was
covered with a layer of leaf mold, Jean came upon tracks. Unhesitatingly
Nangotook pronounced the prints those of a man whose right foot turned
out and who threw his weight more heavily upon that foot than upon the
left. Not far away the Ojibwa found other tracks, made by another man.
This trail he succeeded in following through the woods to the top of the
ridge, where, in a narrow rock opening, a hare runway, he discovered the
remains of a snare. The noose had been taken away, but the fence of
twigs, leading to the spot where it had been set, remained.
It now seemed perfectly clear that the Frenchman and his Indian
companion had been camping on the beach not longer ago than the morning
before. Apparently Le Forgeron was still in pursuit of the
gold-seekers. Had he seen them set out from the island before dawn, and
had he followed? Nangotook thought that very unlikely. He did not
believe Le Forgeron had been where he could observe their departure. If
he had been hiding anywhere on the island, it must have been in one of
the caves on the north shore. Yet it did not seem likely that he had
crossed from the island after the lifting of the fog, for the winds had
been strong ever since. Nangotook doubted if the Blacksmith could have
made his way across the stretch of open lake at any time during the past
five days. He came to the conclusion that Le Forgeron must have crossed
before the others left the island, perhaps immediately after he or his
companion had hurled Ronald from the cliff. Ronald, however, pointed out
that the wind and waves had been very unfavorable at that time, and the
Indian was forced to admit that the boy was right. Unable to solve the
problem, he shook his head doubtfully. "Awishtoya evil man," he said,
"very evil. Maybe he can put spell on waters and go when he pleases."
"I have heard it said that he has sold himself to the devil," Jean
replied seriously, "so it may be indeed as you say. He may have seen us
go, though, and if he followed he was caught in the fog too, and may
have reached this place by accident. One thing is certain. He has been
here. Surely it is not so important to know just when he came, as to
discover where he has gone and whether he will return."
"You are right," Ronald agreed. "We must be tracking this enemy of
ours. Unless he's in league with the evil one, he has not crossed to
that island over there within the last two days, that is sure. The wind
and waves have been too high. And if that's the island we came from, he
would have no reason for going back. We had best be searching for him in
the other direction."
"We go in canoe up this water then," and Nangotook pointed along the
channel to the southwest, "and we take all the meat with us. Awishtoya
has taken the apakwas from his wigwam. Yet he may come back. If we leave
anything he will find it."
"That is true," cried Jean. "We must take everything with us, and leave
no trace behind. This is no place for us to camp, if there's a chance
that Le Forgeron may return."
Carefully the Indian erased all signs of their visit to the beach and to
the woods and rocks near by. Stepping backwards, his body bent almost
double, he smoothed out with his hands the tracks he and the boys had
made in the adjacent forest. When he had completed his task, he was sure
no traces remained that might not have been made by some passing animal.
Then the three embarked and paddled back through the quiet channel
between point and islands. They penetrated to the head of a long narrow
bay, that lay parallel to the one they had come through that morning and
the evening before. There were many islands, and the shores were
forested to the water's edge. Though the searchers scanned the rocks and
woods closely, they found no clear signs that a canoe had ever run in
anywhere along either shore or on any of the islands. Several times they
examined likely looking places, but always without definite result. Not
one sure trace of Le Forgeron Tordu or of any human being did they find,
though they made the complete circuit of the shore, reaching at last the
rocky point they had passed that morning. So thorough was their search
that it occupied most of the day.
Though they discovered no more clear signs of their enemy, the trip was
not altogether fruitless, for, as they went along, they caught several
fish, lake trout of smaller size than those they had taken out in the
lake. Near the head of the bay Jean hooked a pickerel, and, at the mouth
of a small stream, several brook trout. The explorers landed on a small,
well wooded island, that lay across a narrow stretch of water from the
inner side of the point to the east of the bay, and cooked their fish
and made camp.
Etienne had almost convinced the boys that the island to the northwest
was the one where they had been wind-bound. Nevertheless they were
anxious to reach it, for they had resolved to strike out from there to
east and north, in one more effort to find the land of golden sands. But
the spirits of the lake were still against them, and four days longer
they were held prisoner on the end of Minong. During most of the time
the open lake was very rough. Traveling several miles across it, against
a head or side wind, was far too perilous to be attempted in so frail a
craft as a bark canoe. Only once for a few hours did the wind swing to a
more favorable quarter, the south, and then it brought thick mist
followed by fine, cold rain, almost as blinding as the fog. A strong
west wind dispersed rain and mist and blew away the clouds, but made
crossing as dangerous as ever.
Impatient as the treasure-seekers were during all that time, they could
do nothing but make the best of the delay. They camped on the small
island, where no enemy could approach under cover, and continued their
search for Le Forgeron Tordu. Climbing to the top of the high ridge,
they looked down another long bay, parallel with the two they were
familiar with, and to wooded land and other stretches of water beyond.
They were determined to explore that bay, but the strong wind and
dangerous, outlying reefs made rounding the long point out of the
question. So they were obliged to carry the canoe up the ridge, a hard
and laborious portage, and with much difficulty take it down the steep
north side. They caught a good supply of fish in that third bay, and
found slight signs on two of the islands that human beings might have
been there not many days before. But there were no clear tracks they
could identify as those of the lame Frenchman. On the farther shore of
the bay, near its head, they thought they had come upon a trail, but
soon made up their minds that it was only the old track of some wild
animal.
Wishing to save their dried meat for emergencies, they made every effort
to obtain enough fresh meat and fish to sustain them. As only three
rounds of ammunition remained for the one gun, Nangotook spent part of
his time making bows and arrows for himself and Jean, leaving the gun to
Ronald, who could be trusted not to waste his powder. The Ojibwa strung
his bow with twisted caribou sinew, braided at the ends. The arrow
shafts he made of serviceberry wood, straightening them by drawing them
through a hole he had bored in a piece of bone. Some of the arrows, with
points of wood hardened in the fire, were intended for shooting birds
and squirrels. Others had heads of bone or chipped stone, let into a
slit or groove in the end of the shaft and bound tight with soaked
sinew, which contracted when dry. Nangotook insisted that the feathers
used must be those of a bird of prey, or else the arrows would not be
sufficiently deadly. Coming one day upon several hawks, which circled
within easy range, as they prepared to dart down on a flock of migrating
small birds that had paused to rest and feed among the alders, Ronald
sacrificed one of his precious charges of ammunition to bring down one
of the marauders. With hawk feathers, carefully cut and placed to give
just the right weight and balance, Nangotook feathered his arrows. When
he had constructed two bark quivers, the primitive hunting equipment was
ready.
The Ojibwa demonstrated the use of the new weapon by shooting a squirrel
and a gull in quick succession, and the boys, admiring his skill, at
once set to work to practice with the other bow. Ronald, who was proud
of his marksmanship, was chagrined to find that not only Nangotook but
Jean could easily outshoot him both in range and accuracy. In his
childhood the French lad had played with bows and arrows made by
Nangotook, who had taught him how to use them, while to Ronald the
weapon was entirely new.
The hide of the caribou was cured and dressed, and part of it made into
new moccasins to replace the wanderers' worn and ragged ones. From a
bone that he had saved for the purpose, Nangotook also made, with much
labor, a knife such as his ancestors must have used before the white men
brought them steel and iron. Ronald's knife had been lost or taken from
him when he fell over the cliff, and the Indian insisted that the lad
take his. He could use the bone one just as well, he said, and when
Ronald hesitated to accept the gift, showed such plain signs of offense,
that the boy hastened to take it to make amends. He guessed that this
was Nangotook's way of expressing gratitude for his rescue from
drowning.
XX
THE NORTHEASTER
Late in the afternoon of the fourth day after the gold-seekers had
reached the long point, the wind went down, and by an hour after sunset
the waves had subsided enough to make crossing to the island to the
northeast possible. So the three set out immediately, and made the
traverse safely. Though twilight was deepening to darkness when they
drew near the land, they had no difficulty in recognizing the place. It
was not their Island of Golden Sands. To find that they must go farther
north and east. It would have been useless to begin their search just
then, however, for clouds were gathering and the night promised to be a
black one. That they might camp nearer the northern end, that was to be
their starting point, they paddled along the southeast shore of the
island to the sand beach beyond the landlocked bay.
Before midnight they were awakened by a rain storm. With that storm
began a period of almost heart-breaking waiting, that roused in the
Indian the most gloomy fears, well-nigh discouraged Jean, and would have
had the same effect on Ronald had he not clung with determined
stubbornness to his purpose. There were times during the week of delay,
when even he was almost ready to give up, but he kept his wavering to
himself, insisting always that they must make one more attempt to find
the golden sands. Not all of the weather that hindered them was of a
kind the boys would ordinarily have called unpleasant. Most of the days
were bright, but the wind blew incessantly, now from one point, now from
another, but always so strongly that to start off into the open lake
would have been the utmost folly. All the voyageurs' strength and skill
must have been spent in keeping the canoe from swamping, and, even if
they had escaped drowning, they could have made almost no headway
towards north and east.
They were anxious to save their precious caribou meat, so they made
every effort to trap and shoot hares and squirrels, and to catch fish,
but their luck was poor. Either there were very few of the little
animals on the island or they had become exceedingly shy, for during the
whole week but one hare and three squirrels were taken. The wind blew so
hard that fishing was possible only in the bay or on the lee side of the
island. From the inner bark of the cedar, softened by soaking, Etienne
and the boys laboriously rolled and twisted enough tough cord for a
small net, and by setting this at night and taking it up in the morning,
they managed to get a few lake herring. But the catches, even with the
net, were scanty, and the best efforts of the three were not sufficient
to supply them with enough game and fish to keep them nourished. They
were forced to eat so much of the dried caribou meat that their supply
disappeared alarmingly.
For future use in lodge building, they prepared several _apakwas_, as
Etienne called them, long strips composed of squares of birch bark
sewed together with the cedar twine. These apakwas could be rolled and
carried in the canoe, and were all ready to be wrapped around the
framework of a wigwam.
During all that week the gold-seekers found no new traces of Le
Forgeron, though they took advantage of an east wind one day to explore
the caves on the northwest side of the island. The withered evergreen
couches and the ashes of the fire were still on the beach in the largest
cave, but there was nothing to indicate that any one had been there
since Ronald's visit.
A favorable day dawned at last, with a light breeze and blue sky,
although a filmy haze lay on the water in the distance. The Ojibwa
feared fog, but Ronald would wait no longer.
"There will never be a morning when something may not happen," he cried
impatiently. "If we fail to take this opportunity, there may not be
another for days to come. We can be turning back any moment danger
threatens, but we must take some chances no matter how good the
conditions. Surely not one of us is fearing a risk, when there's so much
to gain, if we're successful."
Ronald had tried to speak without offense, but the Indian knew that the
boy was making a direct appeal to his courage, and he was too proud to
hesitate longer.
"Come then," he said, "and may the manitos,--and the good God be kind to
us."
Their course of action, as soon as the weather should be favorable, had
been decided long before. From the northern end of the island they
would travel directly east for two hours, then turning north they would
go in that direction for the same length of time, when, if they had not
caught sight of the island they sought, they would turn to the east
again for an hour's paddling, then to the north for another hour and so
on. If by sunset they were not in sight of their destination, Ronald
consented to give up the search, and make for the nearest land, or if no
land was in sight, to steer straight for the north shore. Indeed it
seemed likely that by that time, unless they were hindered by contrary
winds, they might be able to discern the shore and make directly towards
it. The plan was a desperate one. Their only possibility of success, or
even of reaching the north shore alive, lay in the continuance of good
weather, and all three were familiar enough with the uncertainty and
fickleness of Lake Superior winds and storms to realize in some degree
the recklessness of the attempt. But the boys were young and rash. They
had come through many dangers without serious accident. The very fact
that their canoe had outridden the fearful storm on the night when they
left the Rock of the Beaver, encouraged them to believe that they might
get through safely even though the weather should change for the worse.
Whatever the Ojibwa's feelings were, he gave no sign, taking his place
in the canoe in silence, and without a trace of emotion on his impassive
face.
At first all went well, the wind was light, the waves scarcely high
enough to be called waves, and the canoe made good speed to the east. To
the north over the water they could see, among its companion islets,
the rock that had sheltered them from the force of the storm. It was to
the east, however, that they gazed eagerly. They went on in that
direction for the agreed upon two hours, estimating the time by counting
their paddle strokes. No island came into view. So they turned to the
north. For two hours more they traveled steadily, but, though their eyes
searched the water ahead and to either side, they caught no glimpse of
land. The sun was shining and the sky blue overhead, yet a thin haze,
diffused through the air, made it impossible to see any great distance.
After two hours' journey to the north they turned again to the east.
Before they had gone far they noticed that the weather was beginning to
thicken, the blue overhead was turning to gray, the breeze that had been
so light all the morning was freshening, and becoming northeasterly. The
signs made the boys uneasy, but Nangotook gave no indication of noticing
them.