While they were thus occupied, a cry was heard to ring through the
forest. The Indian laid his hand on his gun, raised his head, which he
turned to one side in a listening attitude, and sat as still as a dark
statue. The only motion that could be detected in the man was a slight
action in his distended nostrils as he breathed gently.
This attitude was but momentary, however, for the cry was repeated ("Hi!
Nelly, hi!") in clear silvery tones, and Wapaw smiled as he recognised
Roy's voice, and quietly resumed his former occupation.
Nelly bounded up at once, and ran out to receive her brother, and tell
him of the arrival of their old friend.
She slipped on her snow-shoes, and went off in the direction of the cry.
On rounding the foot of a cliff she discovered Roy, standing as if he
had been petrified, with his eyes glaring at the snow with a mingled
look of surprise and alarm.
Nelly's step roused him.
"Ho! Nell," he cried, giving vent to a deep sigh of relief, "I'm
thankful to see you--but look here. What snow-shoe made _this_ track?
I came on it just this moment, and it pulled me up slick, I can tell
ye."
Nelly at once removed Roy's alarm, and increased his surprise by telling
him of the new arrival, who, she said, was friendly, but she did not
tell him that he was an old friend.
"But come, now, what have you got for dinner, Roy?" said Nelly, with an
arch smile, "for oh! I'm _so_ hungry."
Roy's countenance fell, and he looked like a convicted culprit.
"Nell, I haven't got nothin' at all."
"_What_ a pity! We must just go supperless to bed, I suppose."
"Come, lass, I see by the twinkle in your eye that you've got grub
somehow or other. Has the redskin brought some 'at with him?"
"Yes, he has brought a little; but the best fun is that I shot a bird
myself, and had it all ready beautifully cooked for your supper, when
Wap--"
"Well, what d'ye mean by Wap?" inquired Roy, as Nelly stopped short.
"Nothing. I only meant to say that the Indian arrived suddenly, and ate
it all up."
"The villain! Well, I'll pay him off by eatin' up some o' _his_ grub.
Did he say what his name was, or where he came from?" inquired Roy.
"Never mind, you can ask him yourself," said Nelly, as they drew near to
the hut; "he seems to me to have been badly wounded by his enemies."
They stooped and entered the hut as Nelly spoke. The Indian looked up
at her brother, and, uttering his wonted "Ho!" held out his hand.
"Good luck to ye!" cried Roy, grasping it and shaking it with a feeling
of hearty hospitality. "It's good to see yer face, though it _is_ a
strange un; but--hallo!--I say--yer face ain't so strange, after all!--
what! Why, you're not Wap--Wap--Wapaw!"
The Indian displayed all his teeth, which were very numerous and
remarkably white, and nodded his head gently.
"Well now, that beats everything!" cried Roy, seizing the Indian's hand
again and shaking it violently; then, turning to Nelly, he said, "Come,
Nell, stir yer stumps and pluck two o' them birds. I'll split 'em, an'
wash 'em, an' roast 'em, an' we'll all eat 'em--Wapaw'll be ready for
more before it's ready for him. Jump, now, and see if we don't have a
feast to-night, if we should starve to-morrow. But I say, Wapaw, don't
ye think the redskins may be after you yet?"
The first part of this speech was uttered in wild glee, but the last
sentence was spoken more earnestly, as the thought occurred to him that
Wapaw might have been closely pursued, for Nelly had told him of the
Indian having been wounded by enemies and obliged to fly.
Wapaw shook his head, and made his young friend understand as well as he
could that there was little chance of that, as he had travelled with the
utmost speed in order to distance his pursuers, and induce them to give
up the chase.
"Well, it may be as you say, friend," observed Roy, as he sat down
before the fire and pulled off his hunting mocassins and socks, which he
replaced by lighter foot-gear more suited to the hut; "but I don't much
like the notion o' givin' them a chance to come up and cut all our
throats at once. It's not likely, however, that they'll be here
to-night, considerin' the pace you say you came at, so we'll make our
minds easy, but with your leave we'll cut our sticks to-morrow, an' make
tracks for Fort Enterprise. We han't got much in the way o' grub to
start wi', it is true, but we have enough at least for two days' eatin',
and for the rest, we have our guns, and you to be our guide."
This plan was agreed to by Wapaw, who thereupon advised that they should
all lie down to sleep without delay. Roy, who was fatigued with his
day's exertions, agreed, and in less than half an hour the three were
sound asleep.
Next morning they arose with the sun, much refreshed; and while Wapaw
and Nelly collected together and packed on their new sledge the few
things that they possessed, Roy went for the last time to cast his line
in Silver Lake. He was more fortunate than usual, and returned in an
hour with four fine fish of about six pounds' weight each.
With this acceptable, though small, addition to their slender stock of
provisions, they left the hut about noon, and commenced their journey,
making a considerable _detour_ in order to avoid meeting with any of the
Indians who might chance to have continued the pursuit of Wapaw.
That same evening, towards sunset, a party of hunters marched out of the
woods, and stood upon the shores of Silver Lake, the tracks about which
they began to examine with particular interest. There were six of the
party, five of them being white hunters, and one an Indian. We need
scarcely add that they were our friend Robin and his companions.
"I tell 'ee what it is," cried Robin, in an excited tone, "that's my
Nelly's fut; I'd know the prints o't among a thousand, an' it's quite
plain Roy is with her, an' that Wapaw has come on 'em, for their tracks
are clear."
"Sure it looks like it," observed Larry O'Dowd, scratching his head as
if in perplexity, "but the tracks is so mixed up, it ain't aisy to
foller 'em."
"See, here's a well-beaten track goin' into the wood!" cried Walter, who
had, like his companions, been searching among the bushes.
Every one followed Walter, who led the way towards the hut, which was
finally discovered with a thin, scarcely perceptible line of smoke still
issuing from the chimney. They all stopped at once, and held back to
allow Robin to advance alone. The poor man went forward with a beating
heart, and stopped abruptly at the entrance, where he stood for a few
seconds as if he were unable to go in. At length he raised the curtain
and looked in; then he entered quickly.
"Gone, Walter, they're gone!" he cried; "come in, lad, and see. Here's
evidence o' my dear children everywhere. It's plain, too, that they
have left only a few hours agone."
"True for ye, the fire's hot," said Larry, lighting his pipe from the
embers in testimony of the truth of his assertion.
"They can't be far off," said Slugs, who was examining every relic of
the absent ones with the most minute care. "The less time we lose in
follerin' of 'em the better--what think ye, lad?" The Black Swan nodded
his approval of the sentiment.
"What! without sleep or supper?" cried Stiff, whose enthusiasm in the
chase had long ago evaporated.
"Ay," said Robin sternly, "_I_ start _now_. Let those stop here who
will."
To do Stiff justice, his objections were never pressed home, so he
comforted himself with a quid of tobacco, and accompanied Robin and his
men with dogged resolution when they left the hut. Plunging once more
into the forest, they followed up the track all night, as they had
already followed it up all day.