A CONFLAGRATION
When the Bradfords returned to Lake Dasar-dee-ash, they found Lucky,
Long Peter, and Coffee Jack awaiting them with all the supplies. The
course lay across the lake to its outlet, a stream bearing the Indian
name of "Kaska Wulsh," but generally known as the north branch of the
Alsek, since, after flowing north for fifty miles, it turned to the
west and south like the other branch, which it joined many miles below
Dalton's Post.
After a consultation it was decided to cache a part of Mr. Bradford's
supplies, and all of Uncle Will's except certain tools, on the western
shore, within six miles of Kah Sha gorge, for they would eventually
return to look after the Alder Creek claims, and it was, besides,
advisable to lighten the loads and hasten forward before the snow and
ice were gone. Uncle Will accordingly took Lucky and Long Peter and
set out across the bay of the lake with three sled-loads, leaving his
brother and the boys to rest after their labors. Late in the evening he
returned and reported that he had built a strong platform of saplings
high up between three trees and enclosed on all sides. There he had
left the goods covered with oiled canvas, and felt confident that they
would be safe alike from dogs, wild beasts, and stormy weather.
It was now thought best to dismiss Long Peter, since the remaining
thirty-five miles consisted of level lake and river, and furthermore
it was necessary to husband the provisions. The Indian seemed sorry to
part with his white friends, but took the matter good-naturedly, the
more so, perhaps, since he was confident of finding employment with
the Mysterious Thirty-six, who could not be far behind. He left on the
following morning, happy with a present of a fine hunting-knife in
addition to his wages. Uncle Will wished to buy his sled, in order that
Lucky might use it, but Long Peter was unwilling to part with it, and
Lucky was obliged as before to take turns with the sleds of the others
and act as general assistant.
The surface of the lake proved more unfavorable for sledding than was
anticipated. Exposed as they were to the uninterrupted glare of the
sun, the snowy ridges were soft and slushy except at night. To make
matters worse, a north wind blew strongly in their faces. Toward noon
they descried several black specks on the ice to the rearward, which
gained steadily upon them, and were at length seen to be three men,
a sled, and a team of dogs. The men proved to be the leader of the
Thirty-six, a miner named Cannon, and a very tall native known as
Indian Jack, the owner and driver of the dogs.
The "Cap'n," as the leader was called, gave no hint as to his
destination, but Uncle Will surmised that he was going forward to
look over the ground upon which he proposed to locate his men. He was
willing to say, however, that the rest of his party would turn aside to
Kah Sha River, as the Bradfords had done, and that they ought to reach
there in about three days. Several of his men were sick or exhausted,
one was suffering from a sprained ankle, two were snow-blind, another
had been cut with an axe, and still another had blood-poisoning in a
finger. He thought they might lose a day or two from these causes.
Without waiting to talk further, he gave the word to the Indian, who
in turn cried out "Chuck!" to the dogs, and away they went as fast as
they could walk, much faster indeed than the Bradfords could follow.
The Indian guided the sled by the gee-pole, but the dogs did all the
pulling, and tugged vigorously as if they quite enjoyed it,--David
meantime catching a picture of the whole outfit as it went by, with the
Dasar-dee-ash Mountains for a background.
Not more than four miles had been covered when camp was pitched on the
eastern shore that afternoon. As the night promised to be comparatively
warm and fine, Roly proposed to his father that they should make a big
canvas hut with two tents as some of the Thirty-six had done at Rainy
Hollow. Neither Mr. Bradford nor Uncle Will objected to humoring the
boy, and the hut was set up forthwith on a framework of poles, with
the open end to the south away from the wind. The blanket beds of the
four occupants were then laid in place side by side upon spruce boughs
strewn on the snow.
When supper had been disposed of, a roaring fire was built before
the open side of the hut, filling the place with a cheerful warmth
and glow, and the four reclined comfortably on the blankets, telling
stories and watching the curling smoke and crackling flames, until Mr.
Bradford declared that if they did not turn in, they would surely sleep
overtime in the morning, for there was neither cock nor clock to arouse
them here. Something else there was, however, which proved quite as
effectual, and roused them long before daybreak.
Roly was dreaming that he was at home and sitting by the kitchen stove.
Suddenly, he thought, the lids flew off, and the flames rose in a
bright column to the ceiling, while sparks fell all over him and about
the room. He tried to rise and alarm the household, but some strange
power held him fast, and he could neither stir nor cry out. The next
instant he felt a thump in the ribs and awoke with a sense of choking,
to hear his uncle exclaiming excitedly, "Wake up! wake up! everybody!
We're all afire here! Quick, quick, Charley! Take your hat or coat or
anything, and beat down the flames. David, Roly, get out of this in a
hurry!"
The boys grasped the situation in an instant. The wind had turned to
the south while they slept, and a flying spark had set fire to the
canvas over their heads. The dry cloth was now flaming up brightly,
while burning pieces were falling on the blankets. They jumped up,
seized their caps, and fell to work with a will to help their father
and uncle, who were beating away desperately at the blazing side and
roof.
It was quick, breathless work. Not only must they prevent the spread of
the flames overhead, but they must also take care of the bedding and
whatever clothing was in the hut. David, after extinguishing the fire
immediately around him, dropped his cap and pulled both blankets and
clothing in a heap out into the snow, where he spread them all out,
carefully quenched the sparks, and then ran back to the hut, where the
flames were presently brought under control. This was not accomplished,
however, until nearly half the roof and all of one side were gone.
The fire-fighters, panting and exhausted, gazed ruefully at the ruins.
It was too dark now to ascertain the exact amount of the damage, but
there could be no doubt it was very serious. No one, however, was
disposed to cry over spilled milk; and Uncle Will, who had known many
disasters of various sorts in the course of his rough experience,
even laughed grimly and declared that what he regretted most was the
singeing of his beard, of which he had lost fully two inches. Both men
complimented the boys on their efficient work, which contributed to a
large degree toward the saving of the contents of the hut, as well as
that part of the hut itself which remained.
"I believe Lucky and Coffee Jack slept through it all," said Mr.
Bradford, peering through the darkness toward the beach, where the
Indians had pitched their rude tent.
As he spoke, there was a crackling and a flash of light behind the hut.
Not three feet from the rear of the structure rose a tall dead spruce.
Fire from the burning canvas had been communicated to a dry vine
leading into a net-work of small branches at the foot of this tree, and
a tiny flame, silent and unseen, had been stealthily creeping toward
this mass of tinder.
"Down with the hut, boys!" cried Uncle Will, instantly realizing the
new danger. "Quick, before it gets too hot! Never mind the tree,--you
can't put _that_ fire out!"
This last was addressed to Roly, who had promptly attacked the burning
branches with his cap, but only succeeded in tearing that article on
the twigs without much effect on the flames.
Knots were untied with nervous haste, and where they proved refractory
they were cut. That part of the canvas nearest the tree was first
folded over out of harm's way, and soon the whole was loosened and
dragged to a distance, and none too soon. The fire ran up the dry twigs
with startling rapidity and a roar that presently aroused those sound
sleepers, Lucky and Coffee Jack, who came running up in surprise.
The tree quickly became a gigantic torch which lighted up the country
for miles, and sent a dense column of white smoke rolling skyward. By
good luck there were no other trees close enough to be in danger, and
the whole party withdrew to a comfortable distance, as soon as the hut
was safe, to watch the brilliant spectacle. The best part of it was
soon over, for the branches were presently burned away, but portions of
the trunk flamed and smoked for hours. Nobody but the Indians thought
of sleeping any more that night. The boys curled up in their blankets
where they could watch the tree; while Mr. Bradford and Uncle Will,
wrapped in their heavy coats, sat on a log near by,--the former telling
stories of Adirondack fires, the latter, who never seemed to have smoke
enough, puffing away at his pipe.