A STRANGE DISCOVERY.
"All ready?" exclaimed Menzies. "Then forward. If no mishap occurs we
shall be miles away before our escape is discovered."
He entered the passage first, flashing the lantern in front of him, and
the others followed in double file. Captain Rudstone and I, who came
last, took the precaution to replace the slab of stone as we had found
it.
It was a strange experience to thread that underground corridor, built
with herculean toil, when the fort was reared, for just such an
emergency as it was serving now. We had to stoop low to avoid the
raftered roof. The air was close, and not a sound reached us from
outside. We groped along in semi-darkness for the lantern cast no light
behind. It gave one a ghastly oppressive feeling of being buried alive.
The tunnel seemed longer than it really was. We were certain over and
over again that we had passed under the fort yard and the outer
clearing, yet still we went on. But at last Menzies stopped, and called
in a low voice that he had come to the end. Captain Rudstone and I made
our way up to him, and saw that further progress was barred by a slab of
rock that fitted exactly across the passage.
"It will yield with a hard push," said Menzies.
"Wait!" said I. "Let us first blow out the lantern."
This was done, and the three of us put our weight to the stone. It
grated like rusty iron, gave way slowly, and went down with a crunching
noise. Ah, the happiness of that moment--the joy of that first glimpse
and breath of the air of freedom! It was all we could do to keep from
shouting and cheering.
The tunnel had brought us out on a narrow ledge midway down the steep
and wooded bluff that rose from the edge of the river. A canopy of trees
sheltered us overhead, and below us, through the evergreen foliage, the
frozen, snow-crusted river gleamed against the murky background of the
night.
A short time before we had stared death in the face; now the hope of
life and safety thrilled our hearts with gratitude for a merciful and
wonderful Providence. All the circumstances seemed in our favor.
Off behind us the Indians were still holding mad revelry in the fort
yard, little dreaming, as they screeched and bowled, of the trick that
had been played upon them. Not a sound could be heard close by; there
was reason to believe that all the savages were gathered inside of the
inclosure. And the snow was falling so fast and thickly that it must
cover our tracks almost as soon as made.
To put some miles between ourselves and our bloodthirsty foes was our
first thought, and we did not lose an instant by delay. Creeping down to
the foot of the bluff, we strapped our snowshoes to our feet, and fixed
the four wounded men comfortably on the two empty sledges. As we started
off--twenty-one of us in all--the factor's house seemed to be wrapped in
flames, to judge from the increasing glare that shone around us. We
traveled rapidly to the south, up the river's course, and closely
skirted the timbered shore nearest the fort. Gradually the whooping of
the Indians died away, and the reflection of the fire faded, until it
was only a flickering glow on the dark and wintry horizon. In the
excitement of leaving the fort we had given no thought to our future
plans; but now, as we hurried along the frozen bed of the river, we
discussed that all-important matter. It had been commonly understood in
a vague way that we should strike direct for Fort York. However, on
reflection, we abandoned that plan. If the Indians should discover our
escape, as was only too likely, they would suspect that Fort York was
our destination, and make a quick march to cut us off.
"We must look after the interests of the company as well as our own
lives," said Menzies, "and I think I see a clear way to do both. The
rising of the redskins and the Northwest people may be checked by prompt
action; it is probably not yet known beyond Fort Royal, nor have there
been attacks elsewhere. So I suggest that we split into two parties. I
will command one, take the wounded with me, and push on to Fort Elk,
which is about eighty miles to the southeast. You will command the
other, Denzil, and strike for Fort Charter. It lies rather more than a
hundred milts to the south, and your shortest route will be by way of
old Fort Beaver. If we both succeed--and the chances are in our
favor--two forts will be put on the alert, and couriers can be sent to
other posts."
This plan commended itself to us all, and was ultimately decided upon.
There was little danger of pursuit, or of meeting hostile Indians in the
directions we proposed to go. We made a brief halt at a small island
about five miles from Fort Royal, and separated our party into two.
Menzies, having the shorter journey, insisted on taking less men, and I
reluctantly yielded.
Including himself and wife, and the four wounded, his party numbered
eleven. I had eight men in mine, as follows: Captain Rudstone,
Christopher Burley, an Indian employee named Pemecan, two voyageurs,
Baptiste and Carteret, and three old servants of the company, by name
Duncan Forbes, Malcolm Cameron, and Luke Hutter. Flora, of course, went
with me, and she had made me radiantly happy by a promise to become my
wife at Fort Charter, if the ceremony could be arranged there. One of
the sledges, with a quantity of supplies, was turned over to us.
It was a solemn parting, at the hour of midnight, by that little island
on the frozen river. The women embraced and shed tears; the men clasped
hands and hoarsely wished each other a safe journey. Then Menzies and
his companions vanished in the forest on the right bank of the river,
and through the driving snow I led my band of followers to the south.
Flora was beside me, and I felt ready to surmount any peril for her
sake.
It was well toward noon of the next day, and snow was still falling,
when we ventured to halt in a desolate region near the headwaters of the
Churchill. We rested a few hours, and then pushed on until night,
camping in a deep forest and not daring to light a fire. Of what befell
us after that I shall speak briefly. The weather cleared and grew
colder, and for two days we marched to the south. We made rapid
progress--Flora rode part of the time on the sledge--and saw no sign of
Indians, or, indeed, of any human beings. We all wore heavy winter
clothing, so suffered no hardships on that score; and the second night
we built huge camp fires in a rocky gorge among the hills. But our stock
of provisions was running short, and this fact caused us some
uneasiness.
As the sun was setting that second day--it was the third day's journey
in all--we glided from the depths of the virgin forest and saw what had
been Fort Beaver on the further side of a shallow clearing. I had been
thinking with strange emotions of the past since morning--since we began
to draw near the neighborhood--and at sight of my old home, close to
which both my father and mother were buried, my eyes grew dim and a
choking lump rose in my throat.
"I have never been this way before," remarked Captain Rudstone, "but I
know the place by repute. It was of importance in its day; now it is a
mass of crumbling ruins."
"Is this really where you were born, Denzil?" Flora asked me.
"Yes," I replied; "here I spent my early years and happy ones they
were."
"Ah, this is interesting," Christopher Burley said, thoughtfully. "And
here your father, Bertrand Carew, lived from the time he left England
until his death?"
"Until a treacherous Indian killed him, sir," I said. "And the murderer
was never discovered. It is too late to go any further, men," I added,
wishing to turn the subject. "We will put up here for the night, and
enjoy resting between walls and beside a fireplace."
We crossed the clearing, and entered the stockade by the open gateway,
which was half filled in with drifted snow. We went on, past crumbling
outbuildings, to what had been the factor's residence. The house was in
a fairly good state of preservation, and a push sent the door back on
its hinges.
We were on the threshold of the main room, where I so well recalled my
father sitting musingly by the great fireplace evening after evening
smoking his pipe. Now the apartment was dreary and bare. Snow had
filtered in at the windows, and the floor was rotting away. There were
ashes in the fireplace, and near by lay a heap of dry wood--signs that
some voyageur or trapper had spent a night here while journeying through
the wilderness.
"This is like civilization again," said Christopher Burley, with a sigh.
"We are sure of a comfortable night, at all events," replied Captain
Rudstone.
"The first thing will be supper," said I. "Baptiste, you and Carteret
unpack the sledge. And do you build us a roaring fire, Pemecan."
I went into another room for a moment--it had been my own in times
past--and when I returned the Indian had already started a cheerful
blaze. As I walked toward the fireplace, intending to warm my hands, a
loose slab of stone that was set in at the right of it was dislodged by
the shaking of the floor. It toppled over with a crash, breaking into
several fragments, and behind it, on the weatherworn stratum of plaster,
I saw a number of hieroglyphics. On pulling down some more plaster I
found more lines of them, and they were doubtless an inscription of some
sort. The odd-looking characters were carved deeply into the wall, and I
judged that they had been made years before.
"How strange!" cried Flora, coming to my side.
The rest also drew near, scrutinizing the mysterious discovery with
eager eyes and exclamations of surprise.
"It looks like a cryptogram," said Captain Rudstone, and his voice
seemed to tremble and grow hoarse as he spoke. "What do you make of it,
Carew?"
"Nothing," said I. "You know as much as myself--I never saw it before."
"Was it put there in your father's time?"
"Perhaps," I answered, "but I am inclined to think that it belongs to a
much earlier date."
The captain shook his head slowly. He stared at the hieroglyphics with a
thoughtful face, with his brow knitted into tiny wrinkles over his
half-closed eyes.