There was quite a celebration in the cabin when, at last, just as the
sun came into view over the mountains, Gran opened his heavy eyes and
looked about. All three boys were at his side instantly, and Captain
Joe, who seemed to claim precedence by right of discovery, put his great
paws up on the bunk and addressed soft phrases in dog talk to the
patient.
“For my sake don’t tell him that he mustn’t talk, now!” Alex broke out.
“Of all the chestnuts of fiction that is the worst! Let him get his
troubles off his chest! Hello, Gran, old top! How are you?” he added,
wrinkling his freckled nose at the boy on the bunk. “Brace up!”
“And don’t you dare to look wildly around and say, ‘Where am I?’” Case
threatened, taking up the mood of the first speaker. “That is another of
the terms kept standing in all printing offices. You’re looking fine
this morning, old man!” he continued, determined to cheer the boy up to
the point of a smile if that were possible.
“What kind of a foolish house do you think we keep here, Gran?” asked
Clay. “These lads are doing a lot of talking, but neither one has made a
move to get you something to eat. What will you have? Fish, partridge,
bear or baked beans? Apple pie, dried apple pie, red apple pie, or
pie-pie! Give a name to it, and you’ll be feeding like a king in no time
at all!”
Gran laughed at the waiter-like tone and manner, and tried to sit up,
but was glad to lie down again.
“I know where I am,” he said, “but I don’t know how I came here. I guess
the _Rambler_ is going somewhere, but I don’t know where.”
“You don’t know where you’re going, but you’re on your way!” chanted
Alex. “Well,” he continued, “you’re going down the Columbia river,
according to schedule, and that is enough to know. That’s all any of us
know. We came around by Canoe river, and you came across the mountains,
and we beat you to it.”
“Yes, I came across the mountains,” Gran said, weakly, “and got a
tumble, and had a fright of a time getting down to the river valley. I
saw your lights and that’s about all.”
Not a word about why he had left the _Rambler_, or where he had put in
his time since then, or how the rowboat had been obtained and, later,
wrecked! Not a word about the man in whose company he had last been
seen! Not a word about the missing films! Not a word calculated to clear
up any part of the mystery!
“You did a good job setting that leg,” Clay said, to break the awkward
silence. “You must have had a bad time doing it, too.”
“I did,” Gran confessed. “I had a wretched time. I tied my foot to a
tree, after I had the splints bound lightly on, and dropped down a bank.
I heard the bones snap back into place, and knew that the splints were
holding them there, and went to sleep!
“It was a long time before I sensed any pain again. Then I got back to a
level spot and tightened the splints. Are they still on?”
“Still on, and right as a book!” exclaimed Alex. “You’re a brick!”
“That was after you got to the valley?” asked Clay. “How far had you
walked with that broken leg before you found splints and mended it?”
“Oh, I don’t know!” was the reply. “It seemed that I was out days and
days, and a bear came and sat by me, and Captain Joe drove him off, and
then I woke up in the cabin of the good old _Rambler_!”
The boys exchanged significant glances. Was it true that the dog had
driven off a grizzly, or was the boy telling what he saw after his brain
had become affected by suffering? They asked no questions, for the boy’s
eyes were closing, and they knew that he needed rest more than they
needed information. In a minute the lad was resting easily.
“What do you make of it?” asked Alex as the three boys stood out on the
bank, Captain Joe capering clumsily about them.
“What do I make of what?” demanded Case. “Talk United States.”
“I guess you are sparring for time!” laughed Alex. “So you don’t know
what to make of it? You haven’t a thought in your head?”
“That is the truth of it,” Case returned. “I don’t know why Gran doesn’t
say something about his desertion of us. I have given up trying to think
that out, so we’ll build up more fire, get a bed of coals, and broil
bear steak for breakfast. I’m getting hungry, and I guess Gran will need
a little sustenance when he wakes up. Say, wasn’t it a blessing that we
came along just as we did? Otherwise, he would have died. Never could
have made his way out with that broken leg!”
While Clay and Case broiled bear steak and made coffee Alex whistled to
Captain Joe and started away. Taking the course pursued the previous
evening, he soon came to the rough shelter which the injured boy had
prepared. There he sat down and held a threatening finger up to the nose
of the white bulldog.
“Tell me, Captain Joe,” he said, gravely, “did you find a bear here last
night, and did you drive him away? Tell me, quick, old fellow.”
The dog turned away with a sniff and circled around the hut. Alex
followed, soon coming upon claw tracks in the earth. He turned to Joe.
“I believe you did!” he cried. “Now, if you please, will you go show me
where that bear is? I want a short conversation with him. What?” Captain
Joe started off in the direction of the high ridges to the east, and
finally paused at the opening to a deep cavern in a towering cliff. Alex
looked in and sniffed inquiringly, after which he backed out and turned
toward the campfire, Joe marching along at his side.
“You’re a wonder, dog!” the boy exclaimed. “You’re a wonder, and no
mistake about it! I’ll have you put in a book when we get back to Chi.”
Captain did not seem to take kindly to this proposition, for he hastened
back to the fire and lay down with his nose cuddled between two rather
dirty paws. Alex came in in a moment and told what he had seen.
“I guess the dog did see a grizzly,” Clay decided, “and drove him off.
It is a wonder he didn’t get his ears boxed!”
“Our lights probably had something to do with the retreat of the big
brute,” Case suggested. “I wish we had found him there!”
Gran ate bear steak and drank coffee when he awoke, and the boys loafed
about the _Rambler_ and made merry. During the day the injured boy
talked of almost everything except the things in which his chums were
interested.
He told of some of his experiences in crossing the mountains to the
headwaters of Gold creek, but did not say how he came to be in that wild
region all alone, nor why he had written the note saved from the river.
Naturally the boys were consumed with curiosity, but they asked no
questions, leaving the solution of the problems to time and to future
moods of their patient. Gran’s leg mended fast, and he was soon as full
of fun as the others. Still no hint of the reason for his disappearance!
All the boys enjoyed the leisurely progress down the river which
followed. They were often obliged to work their way around falls and
long, foaming rapids, but they did the work cheerfully, and took all the
more comfort in smooth stretches of water when they came to them. Below
Gold creek the valley widens to the west, and a high plateau presents a
vast area of growing timber. Only a short range of mountains divides
this fertile stretch of country from the high plains drained by the
Fraser river.
The boys tied up one night at Seymour creek which flows into the
Columbia from the west, about thirty miles below Gold creek, and made a
camp on shore.
“This,” Clay, said in the morning, “is one of the finest timber sections
in the world, and I’m not going to run through it. Some day there will
be great farms here, with wheat growing luxuriantly during the short
season. Now there is plenty of game, and I’m going to get some of it.”
“I think I’ll take a trip to Sir Donald mountain,” Alex said, pointing
across the big river, where the white cap of the peak shone in the
sunlight. “I want to see how the country looks from the roof.”
“You should have been with me on my excursion over the mountains!” Gran
remarked. “You’ll find it cold up there, and you’ll find slippery rocks
and precipices which reach down into the bowels of the earth!”
“I want to see things!” Alex exclaimed. “If I had been looking for a
peaceful life, I would have rented a boat in Chicago and sat out in the
South Branch with it! Me for the high spots!”
“I think I’ll go along with him,” Case observed. “I want to see the high
spots, too, and, besides, I may be able to keep this rash youth from
getting treed by a grizzly again! He’s always getting into trouble!”
Clay finally agreed to remain with Gran during the day, and the two
adventurous boys were landed on the east side of the Columbia, not far
from the mouth of Six Mile creek, close to the foothills which rise to
the greater elevation of Sir Donald mountain. It was early on a splendid
morning in early spring, and the boys felt the influence of the time
moving the blood swiftly in their veins. Youth was in their every
movement and the spirit of adventure sung in their ears!
It was a long walk to the place where the mountain asserted itself above
the hills, and, a little over half way there, the lads stopped, and sat
down on a rock to eat the sandwiches of bread and bear meat which they
had brought with them. Around them was a rugged country, several hundred
feet above sea level.
Although the bulk of the mountain was still some distance to the east,
there were canyons and lifting crags all about them. Just below, the
thin thread of Six Mile creek glistened in the light of the morning. The
springs which give rise to this stream are far up in the mountains, and
melting snow has much to do with the quantity of its waters.
“Straight east of where we are,” Case said, as they ate their dinners,
“are the rapids we had such a time passing.”
“No,” Alex answered, looking at a map, “the rapids are some miles to the
north. Straight east of this point is Beaver, where the Canadian Pacific
turns south toward Rogers pass and Glacier House.”
“Guess you are right,” Case admitted, looking over Alex’s shoulder. “And
just a little way to the south is Donald, where we took to the river.
Just think of what a country this is! We have traveled something like
two or three hundred miles, as the river runs, and yet we are not more
than fifty miles from where we launched the _Rambler_! What a country
this would be for outlaws to hide in! Train robbers, for instance!”
“For all we know,” Alex replied, “the men who held up the Canadian
Pacific train, the men who have been following us, so far as we can
judge, may be hiding in here! To tell you the truth, old chap, that is
one reason why I wanted to come here. Last night, while looking over
this way, I saw the smoke of a campfire right about here. It was a big
fire, for it lighted up quite a space, and I could see people moving
about.”
“Shadows!” Case answered, scornfully. “You never could see people in the
night at this distance from our camp.”
“Remember,” Alex insisted, “that they were high above us, and that the
fire shone on a face of rock back of them. Remember, also, that the
smoke went straight up and gave me a good view of a blazing fire.”
“Oh, well,” Case decided, critically, “you might have seen figures
moving about. You had your glass, of course?”
“Certainly. Well, there were people camping over here, and I thought I’d
like to see what kind of people they were. I said nothing to Clay about
my motive in coming here, because he thinks I’ll be getting into trouble
enough with peaks and canyons, without hunting up mysterious camping
parties in the Rocky mountain district.”
“I’m glad you didn’t mention it to him,” Case mused. “He would have been
anxious about us. Just as if we aren’t big enough to take care of
ourselves. Have you seen the place where the fire was yet?”
“Yes,” replied the boy, “it is across this little valley, up against the
face of that rock. See, the rock is smudged!”
“Yes,” Case exclaimed, swiftly moving under cover, “and there are smudgy
looking men coming after us with guns in their hands! Duck, partner!”