NELL MAKES UP HER MIND
Nell Lindsay worked like two people that evening. She put the potatoes
into fur bags as she said, and went over everything of value in the
shack. She could not stop to talk, but David--admiring her more and
more--gathered her plans and intentions from what she said as they
worked.
"You see, it didn't come upon me all in one moment," she explained,
"because I'd been hacking away at this notion for the last four days
really. Ever since Dad didn't come, you see, Da. _If_ he didn't come,
the only plan was to find out what was wrong from the Chippewas--we
could make their camp and ask--and then simply strike the trail for the
Fort, because Dad would want us to do that one thing."
David checked with his hands full of potatoes to say:
"But look here--what about Dad now?"
"Well--I don't think I believe all that story. It's got a kind of false
feeling in it. Dad may have got his knee hurt, but I'm certain sure,
Da, he never meant us to leave this and go over to Abbitibbi Lake with
Stenson. I'm _sure_ he never did. Probably he said to Stenson, 'as
you're bound for Oga's camp, just you look in at the shack and tell them
I'm here all right'--do you see, Da? He may be lamed up too much to
take the trail for a few days, but I believe that's about the length of
it! He only sent us the news. I sort of _feel_ that in my mind."
"But what----"
"I'm coming to that," Nell checked him. "Here, put this against the
partition, it's warmer than the outside wall. I don't believe they'll
freeze so, Da, the worst of the winter is done." She rested a minute,
hands on hips, looking round at her labours. Then she took up the tale
of her belief in a much lower voice as though she were afraid of being
overheard.
"You know about all that money Dad has been saving up to make you into a
real good engineer, don't you, Da? Well, it's hidden in this shack and
no one knows where it is but Dad and me. It's a good lot, because Dad
just kept the fur money year after year, and we buy things from the
traders--you know. I rather wanted him to take it all down to the
Settlement, but he wouldn't leave us here before Mother went, nor
since--so it just had to stay, you see what I mean. Well, these men must
know that. They know Dad's been saving up, and they know the money is
somewhere. Now I believe their plan is to get us and Robin out of the
house, then they'll come and hunt over every inch and steal it."
"They'd get caught and----"
"They can lay it on the Chippewas--Oga's camp isn't so far off. He's
been shifting round this district quite a while. Don't you see, Da,
they can't do a thing if Dad is here--nor if you and I and Robin are
here. It's a trick to keep us out of the shack."
Nell's cheeks were scarlet with the energy of her whispered story. When
she reached the end of it they paled again.
"_That's_ how I seem to see it," she concluded, "and I'm so certain that
I mean to clear out with all that money and take it to Fort St. Louis. I
want to get twenty-four hours' start of Jan Stenson. I rather hope he
may think we've got so scared about Dad that we've gone ahead down east
to Abbitibbi."
"What about your trail?" suggested David, fervent interest in every line
of his face. He was beginning to understand the amazing plan and the
full danger that was driving Nell into it.
"I believe the snow will help us. It will cover the trail."
"Great snakes! Now I see why you were looking out for snow! But, Nell,
if we stay here till Dad comes can't we guard the money? It's a jolly
big thing taking the trail to Fort Louis. Can't we stick it out here?"
Nell shook her head and her eyes wavered a little from her brother's
eager gaze.
"I don't think they'd stop short of--well--real wickedness, Da, if they
couldn't get the money by a trick. You must remember they've got Dad as
a kind of hostage, and they could say, 'If you don't hand over that cash
it'll be all the worse for him,' don't you see? Of course, it would be
a risk for them, in the end. But men like that chance risks. They could
get away up north--or to the States. There's room--why, thousands of
miles every way. Ten to one they mightn't be caught."
David realised the position entirely. He was full of sense. Moreover,
he had been Nell's companion ever since he could walk and talk, and her
common sense was notable. He understood, but said no more, for what was
the good of talking? their business now was to act.
"I know exactly what Dad would wish us to do," went on Nell, "clear off
with that money. Look how he's worked to get it, because you must be
properly educated if you are to get to the top in engineering. The only
thing that bothered me for a bit was, if they'd do anything to him,
supposing they understand we've gone off like that. I thought and
thought, and then I saw they certainly would not, because what would be
the sense of risking prison for nothing at all! They'll try and catch
us right enough, and make off with the money."
"Oh, you think they'll come after us, do you?" said David, stopping
short in his silent by-play of ragging the black dog.
"Rather!" agreed Nell firmly.
David's mouth widened into a grin.
"Do you hear that, Robin?" he said cheerfully. "Then the sooner we jolly
well hop it the better, for we've a long, long way to Tipperary."
For hours the brother and sister worked, until indeed David was so
sleepy that Nell forced him to undress and roll up in his bunk, where in
one minute he was soundly unconscious. That was at one o'clock in the
morning, when her neat arrangements were nearly completed.
They were to take the hand sled, to be pulled by Robin and David, and
pushed by herself. As a rule, a man who pulls--when there is no dog
team--passes a rope over his shoulder and holds the end in his hands,
then he drags, bending forward. It is fearfully hard work and slow,
too. Nell's inventive mind planned a kind of harness for David, who
would go first, "breaking trail" with his snowshoes for the feet of the
dog who would be nearest the sled. She would go behind the first part
of the way, because of the track towards the stream. It would be
necessary to hold back the little loaded sled with strength and
judgment. Afterwards, if breaking trail proved too hard for David, she
would pull and he should push at the back.
It will be understood that Nell intended to save the most valuable of
the skins as well as the money. Fortunately these were, as a rule, the
smaller ones--marten, sable, mink, and beaver. She made close packages
of these pelts and fastened them on the sled, together with a
frying-pan, a billy-can for making tea, a small, sharp axe, and their
two sleeping bags, double skins with the fur inwards. For food she took
as little as she thought safe--for a reason to be explained
presently--and nothing cumbersome--for instance, no flour--only dried
beans, bacon, tea, and the compressed meat, called pemmican, which is
not very nice, but very nourishing, as it is pressed into little bags
and a very little contains a lot of meat.
She took some tobacco as a precaution, supposing they should come across
Indians and want to give a present, and she took flint and steel as well
as matches, in case the latter got damp by any accident.
Lastly she strapped in place her great treasure, a small Winchester
repeating rifle that her father had given her and taught her to shoot
with, and ammunition. She had told David she wasn't going to leave it
behind to be possibly stolen, but her intention was to use it for the
defence of that precious money if need be. Besides the little rifle,
both she and David carried automatic pistols; long and careful practice
had made them good shots--it is necessary to know how to protect oneself
in a wild country.
As Nell sat by the stove making harness from strips of hide she thought
a good deal about the money and how she was to hide it. Very little of
it was gold. Nearly all was in dollar bills. She passed in review a
dozen hiding-places, but dismissed one after another, finally deciding
that the only safe place would be upon her own body. Of course, she
realised that if she were caught that would be suspected, but they must
be put somewhere and she could defend herself. There was one plan that
kept on coming back into her mind. That was to hide the money in the
log house. Leave it behind carefully concealed, and lead the hunters
off on a false trail. She thought of all the places in which it could
be put and could not help knowing that any place inside the log house
would be bound to be discovered.
At the present time the money was laid in a recess under the floor,
which was made of logs, more or less flattened on the top. The hunters
could, if they wanted, try everyone of these boards in a fairly short
time. They could search the berths, empty out the potato sacks--Nell
sincerely hoped they wouldn't because of the potatoes! The only real
hiding-place would be a hole in the ground outside the house, but how
could she do that when the ground was covered with snow? You can't put
back snow without leaving traces of your work, and besides the ground
was hard as wood.
The more she went over these things in her mind, the more definitely she
saw that she must carry the money.
"They'll come and find we are gone," murmured Nell, ticking off the
events with one finger on the spread out fingers of her other hand, "or
_he_ will, anyway. He'll think I'm scared about Dad and have gone on
ahead--I'll fasten up a paper saying, 'Gone on,' that'll be true,
anyway." Her mouth twisted into a smile. "I'll fasten up the paper on
the door, _outside_. Then, he'll break it open most likely, and hunt
over every inch of the place. Then, he'll fix up that I've got the
money on me. Then, he'll sprint off to Abbitibbi and get there in one
day. Then, he'll find we never came and both of them will make out to
follow. Two men travelling light can go very fast. They'll just carry
a pack--but they'll come back here to get on to our trail like enough,
sure to."
She had used up all her fingers, and the busy hands lay in her lap as
she thought it all over. There was a shadow over her keen eyes, for she
could not hide from herself that the chance was rather a poor one.
Indeed, were it not for the two days and more of start there would not
be much chance at all.
Two trappers, the hardiest, toughest men on the Continent, used to miles
of travel at great speed, travelling light, and following after a big
fortune in dollar bills to be had for the taking, were bound to overtake
herself and David and the sled! They would not go half as fast, and
they must rest--for David's sake. After all, he was only twelve, and no
boy of twelve, however strong, can outlast a tough man in his prime.
It was the start she was counting on, and the fact that the men would
make so sure of catching them that they might not put out full effort.
These trappers would do the distance in four days, going fast--at least,
they often did when in haste--while she and David would take eight days.
It was not a cheering calculation, but--she was looking at chances, as
has been said before. Possibly snow, and a lost trail. Lastly, the
farther they two went the more likely would they be to hap on "folk."
On the Moose River there were many locations. Life would be stirring.
She might strike friends and human dwellings.
Certainly, then, she must carry the money.