Hot haste now marked the proceedings of the rescue party, for Paul and
his friends felt that they had no time to lose. Fortunately the weather
favoured them. That very night a sharp frost set in, hardening the
moist and swampy grounds over which they had to pass. Strongbow, on
being made acquainted with the state of matters, willingly agreed to
lead the party to the place to which he thought it likely the captives
had been taken, or where, at least, information about them might be
obtained from members of his own tribe.
Little Oscar, at his own urgent request, was allowed to accompany them,
and Trueheart, Goodred, and the family baby and nurse, were left in
charge of an old Indian whose life had once been saved by Hendrick, and
who, although too old to go on the war-path, was still well able to keep
the family in provisions.
Although the party was small--numbering only six, two of whom were
boys--it was nevertheless formidable, each man being more than usually
powerful, as well as valiant, whilst the boys, although comparatively
small, possessed so much of the unconquerable spirit of their sires as
to render them quite equal to average men.
The frost, which seemed to have fairly set in, kept them cool during the
day while walking, and rendered their bivouac-fires agreeable at nights.
Little time, however, was allowed for rest or food. They pressed on
each day with unflagging energy, and felt little disposition to waste
time in conversation during the brief halts for needed rest and food.
Occasionally, however, some of the party felt less disposed than usual
for sleep, and sought to drive away anxiety regarding their old
shipmates by talking of things and scenes around them.
"Does Strongbow think that the frost will hold?" asked Hendrick, one
evening after supper, as he reclined in front of the fire on a pile of
brushwood.
"Strongbow cannot tell," returned the Indian. "It looks like thaw, but
the Great Spirit sometimes changes his mind, and sends what we do not
expect."
Having uttered this cautious reply with sententious gravity he continued
his supper in silence.
"The Great Spirit never changes his mind," said Paul. "Perfection
cannot change, because it need not."
"Waugh!" replied the Indian. It was evident that he did not agree with
Paul, but was too polite to say so.
"I like this sort o' thing," remarked Captain Trench, looking up from
the rib on which he was engaged, and gazing round at the magnificent
sweep of hill and dale of which they had a bird's-eye view from their
camp.
"So do I, daddy; with lots to eat an' a roarin' fire a fellow feels as
happy as a king," said Oliver.
"Happier than most kings, I doubt not," returned Hendrick.
"But, Olly, you have mentioned only two of the things that go to produce
felicity," said Paul. "Food and fire are certainly important elements,
but these would be of little avail if we had not health, strength, and
appetite."
"To say nothin' of the fresh air o' the mountains, and the excitement o'
the wilderness, and the enthusiasm of youth," added the captain.
"Are _you_ not as happy as _me_, daddy?" asked the boy, with a sudden
glance of intelligence.
"Happier a great deal, I should say," replied the father, "for I'm not
so much of a goose."
"Why then, daddy, if you are happier than we, what you call the
enthusiasm of youth can have nothing to do with it, you know!"
"You young rascal, the enthusiasm of middle age is much more powerful
than that of youth! You let your tongue wag too freely."
"D'ye hear that, Osky?" said Oliver to his little companion in an
audible whisper. "There's comfort for you an' me. We'll be more
enthusiastic and far happier when we come to middle age! What d'ye
think o' that?"
Oscar--who, although much inclined to fun and humour, did not always
understand the curious phases of them presented to him by his civilised
friend--looked innocently in his face and said, "Me no tink about it at
all!" Whereupon Olly burst into a short laugh, and expressed his belief
that, on the whole, that state of mind was about the happiest he could
come to.
"How long, think you, will it take us to reach the wigwams of your
kindred from this point?" asked Hendrick of their guide, as he prepared
to lie down for the night.
"Two days," answered the Indian.
"God grant that we may be in time," murmured Paul, "I fear a thaw, for
it would delay us greatly."
That which was feared came upon them the next day. They were yet asleep
when those balmy influences, which alone have power to disrupt and
destroy the ice-king's reign, began to work, and when the travellers
awoke, the surface of the land was moist. It was not soft, however, for
time is required to draw frost out of the earth, so that progress was
not much impeded. Still, the effect of the thaw depressed their spirits
a good deal, for they were well aware that a continuance of it would
render the low grounds, into which they had frequently to descend,
almost impassable.
It was, therefore, with anxious forebodings that they lay down to rest
that night, and Paul's prayer for strength and guidance was more fervent
than usual.
About this period of the year changes of temperature are sometimes very
abrupt, and their consequences curious. During the night frost had
again set in with great intensity. Fatigue had compelled the party to
sleep longer than usual, despite their anxiety to press forward, and
when they awoke the rays of the rising sun were sweeping over the whole
landscape, and revealing, as well as helping to create, a scene of
beauty which is seldom, if ever, witnessed elsewhere.
When rain falls with a low thermometer near the earth it becomes frozen
the moment it reaches the ground, and thus a regular deposit of pure
glassy ice takes place on every branch and twig of the leafless shrubs
and trees. The layer of ice goes on increasing, sometimes, till it
attains the thickness of half an inch or more. Thus, in a few hours, a
magical transformation is brought about. The trees seem to be hung with
glittering jewels; the larger limbs are edged with dazzling ice-ropes;
the minutest twigs with threads of gleaming crystal, and all this, with
the sun shooting on and through it, presents a scene of splendour before
which even our most vivid conceptions of fairy-land must sink into
comparative insignificance.
Such, then, was the vision presented to the gaze of the rescue party on
awaking that morning. To some of them it was a new revelation of the
wonderful works of God. To Hendrick and the Indian it was familiar
enough. The Newfoundlanders of modern times know it well by the name of
a "silver thaw."
After the first gaze of surprise and admiration, our travellers made
hasty preparation to resume the journey, and the frost told beneficially
on them in more ways than one, for, while it hardened the ground, it
rendered the atmosphere clear and exhilarating, thus raising their
spirits and their hopes, which tended greatly to increase their power of
action and endurance.
That night they encamped again on a commanding height, and prepared
supper with the hopeful feelings of men who expect to gain the end of
their journey on the morrow.
As if to cheer them still more, the aurora borealis played in the
heavens that night with unwonted magnificence. It is said that the
northern lights are grander in Newfoundland even than in the Arctic
regions. At all events they were finer than anything of the kind that
had ever before been seen by Paul Burns or Captain Trench and his son,
insomuch that the sight filled them with feelings of awe.
The entire heavens seemed to be ablaze from horizon to zenith, not as
with the lurid fires of a great conflagration, which might suggest only
the idea of universal devastation, but with the tender sheen of varied
half-tints, playfully shooting athwart and intermingling with brighter
curtains of light of every conceivable hue.
The repose of the party was somewhat interfered with by the wonders that
surrounded them that night, and more than once they were startled from
slumber by the loud report of great limbs of trees, which, strong though
they seemed to be, were torn off by the load of ice that had accumulated
on them.
Daybreak found the party again passing swiftly over the land. It really
seemed as if even the boys had received special strength for the
occasion, for they neither lagged behind nor murmured, but kept well up
during the whole forced march. No doubt that youthful enthusiasm to
which Captain Trench had referred kept Olly up to the mark, while Osky--
as his friend called him--had been inured to hard labour of every kind
from infancy.
At last, about noon that day, their leader came to a sudden halt, and
pointed to something on the ground before him.
"What does he see?" asked Paul, in a low voice.
"Footprints," said Hendrick.
"What of--deer?" asked the captain, in a hoarse whisper.
"No--natives. Perhaps his friends."
While they were whispering, the Indian was on his knees examining the
footprints in question. Rising after a few minutes' survey, with a
grave look he said--
"Strongbow is not sure. The prints look like those of his tribe, but--
he is not sure!"
"At all events we can follow them," said Hendrick. "The land is open;
we cannot easily be surprised, and we have our weapons handy."
As he spoke he drew an arrow from his quiver, and, affixing the notch to
the bow-string, carried the weapon in his left hand. The others
followed his example. Oliver felt his belt behind, to make sure that
the axe was there, and glanced at the mighty club that hung from his
shoulder.
Oscar, regarding with a slight degree of wonder the warlike arrangements
of his friend, also fitted an arrow to his little bow, and then, with
cautious steps and inquiring glances, the party continued to advance.
But Hendrick was wrong in supposing that a surprise was not probable,
for suddenly from behind a frowning rock or cliff there appeared a band
of armed men who confronted them, and instantly raised their bows to
shoot. Quick as lightning the white men did the same. Evidently both
parties were taken by surprise, for if the Indians had been a party in
ambush they would have shot at the others without showing themselves.
This or some such idea seemed to flash into the minds of both parties,
for there was a slight hesitation on the part of each. Just at that
moment a large black dog which accompanied the Indians, and had
displayed all its formidable teeth and gums on seeing the strangers, was
observed to cover its teeth and wag its tail interrogatively.
Hendrick gave a low whistle.
Instantly the dog bounded towards him, and began to fawn and leap upon
and around him with every demonstration of excessive joy, at sight of
which both parties lowered their weapons.
"The dog is an old friend," explained Hendrick to Paul. "Good dog," he
added, addressing the animal in the Indian tongue, "you are a faithful
friend--faithful in time of need."