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[Illustration: "I see it, Ned!" suddenly said Jack, triumphantly.
Page 238--Boy Scouts on Hudson Bay.]
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BOY SCOUTS ON HUDSON BAY
OR
THE DISAPPEARING FLEET
By
G. HARVEY RALPHSON
Author of
Boy Scouts in the Canal Zone
Boy Scouts in the Northwest
Boy Scouts in a Motor Boat
Boy Scouts in a Submarine
Chicago
M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
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Copyright 1914
M. A. Donohue & Company
Chicago
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Five Chums in Camp 7
II. A Wild Charge 18
III. Was It a Spy? 30
IV. Down the Swift Rapids 42
V. Woodcraft 53
VI. On the Shore of the Salty Sea 65
VII. The Mysterious Blur on the Horizon 77
VIII. Two Kinds of Woodcraft 89
IX. "Salting" the Mine 101
X. Scout Tactics 113
XI. A Successful Sortie 125
XII. The Talking Smoke 136
XIII. A Dreadful Calamity 148
XIV. Blinding the Trail 159
XV. The Brush Shelter 171
XVI. The Sea Fog 182
XVII. On Board the Wreck 193
XVIII. After the Storm 204
XIX. The Battle of the Hulk 216
XX. Besieged 227
XXI. Unexpected Help 237
XXII. The Mystery Solved--Conclusion 247
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BOY SCOUTS ON HUDSON BAY;
or, The Disappearing Fleet.
By G. HARVEY RALPHSON
CHAPTER I.
THE FIVE CHUMS IN CAMP.
"Sure it's me that hopes we've seen the last tough old carry on this
same wild-goose chase up to the Frozen North!"
"Hello! there, is that you, Jimmy, letting out that yawp? I thought you
had more sporting blood in you than to throw up your hands like that!"
"Oh! well I sometimes say things that don't come from the heart, you
know, Jack. Wait, me boy, till I get good and rested up, and mebbe I'll
sing a different tune. Ask Ned here if it's me that often shows the
white flag when trouble comes."
"Well, I should say not, Jimmy McGraw. There never was a more stubborn
nature in all New York than you, once you'd set your mind on anything.
That talk of being discouraged is all on the surface. A thousand
cataracts wouldn't keep _you_ from getting to Hudson Bay in the end, if
you'd said you meant to reach open water. And Jack Bosworth knows that
as well as I do."
"That's right; I do," laughed the party mentioned as Jack, as he slapped
Jimmy on the back. "I've seen him tested and tried out many the time,
and never once did he squeal. I was only joking, Jimmy; you understand?"
"And sure that's what I was doing when I grunted about the carry. It was
next door to a picnic down Coney Island way, and I don't care how many
more times the lot of us have to pack canoes and duffle from one creek
to another. But Francois here is after saying we're getting near the end
of our long voyage, and Tamasjo, the red Injun, backs him up. So let's
try and forget our troubles, and settle down for a decent night's rest."
"First of all, we'll get the tent up, because it looks a little like it
might rain before morning," remarked the boy who had been designated as
Ned, and whom the other four seemed to look upon in the light of leader.
All of them were garbed in the familiar khaki of the Boy Scouts, and
from their actions it would seem as though long familiarity with outdoor
life had made this thing of pitching camp second nature with every one
of the five well-grown lads.
These boys with their guides were a long way from home. Hundreds upon
hundreds of miles separated them from the great metropolis of New York
City, where the troop to which they belonged had its headquarters.
Those readers who have had the pleasure of meeting the five husky scouts
in the pages of previous volumes of this series will not need any
introduction to them. But for the sake of those who are not as yet
acquainted with the chums, a few words of explanation may not come in
amiss.
They all belonged to the same lively troop, but Ned Nestor and his
shadow, Jimmy McGraw, were members of the Wolf Patrol, while Jack
Bosworth, Frank Shaw and Teddy Green belonged to the patrol that proudly
pointed to the head of an American black bear as its totem.
Ned Nestor had long been secretly in the employ of the United States
Government, and had won considerable renown in carrying to a successful
conclusion several difficult cases entrusted to his charge by the
authorities in command of the Secret Service.
Jimmy, who had once been a typical Bowery newsboy, but now "reformed,"
fairly worshiped Jack, and had been his faithful henchman for a long
time past. He was witty, brave, and as as true as the needle to the
pole.
Then there was Frank Shaw, whose father owned and edited one of the
great daily papers in New York; he had long ago shown a desire to be a
correspondent, and was always on the lookout for chances to visit
far-off corners of the world which did not happen to be well known, and
about which he might write interesting accounts for the columns of his
father's paper. He was a great admirer of the celebrated Frank
Carpenter, whom he had met many times in his father's office.
Jack Bosworth's father was a wealthy corporation lawyer and a capitalist
as well, always ready to invest in promising schemes of a legitimate
character. And it was really because of this venturesome nature of Mr.
Bosworth that these five lads had undertaken this tremendous journey,
away above the outskirts of Canadian civilization, many weary leagues
beyond the northern limits of Lake Superior, and with the almost unknown
shores of the great Hudson Bay as their objective point.
The last boy was Teddy Green. He had a well-known Harvard professor as
his father, and some day no doubt the lad anticipated following in the
footsteps of his parent. Just now his greatest ambition was to be an
explorer and endure some of the privations which such men as Stanley,
Livingstone, Dr. Kane and other renowned characters in history were said
to have met with in carrying out their tasks.
From the desolate character of their present surroundings it would seem
that Teddy was in a fair way to realize his boyish dream. For days now
they had not met with a living human being, even an Indian trapper far
away from his tepee in search of game. Mountains and valleys, plains
covered with scrub trees and seemingly endless bogs, and stretches of
moss-covered land surrounded them day after day.
They had ascended one river until they could paddle their three canoes
no further. At this point had come the first carry to another stream,
and from that day on it had been the hardest kind of work as time passed
on.
Already Jimmy had lost all track of direction, and often declared that
it would not surprise him if they finally turned up somewhere over in
Siberia, for to his mind it seemed as though they had come far enough to
have passed the North Pole, even though they had seen no ice packs.
The taciturn Indian guide, who went under the name of Tamasjo, and the
dusky voyageur, a French Canadian named Francois, assured them that all
was well, whenever one of the boys ventured to voice a suspicion that
they might have lost their way and wandered far past their objective
point.
Both guides claimed to have hunted all over this country in times past,
and the voyageur had even accompanied a noted explorer on a summer
wandering up here. Hence their confidence reassured Ned, who often
consulted a rude chart which had been placed in his hands before
starting out on this journey, and thus verified the statements made by
Francois.
Much paddling through rushing rapids and against the current of
boisterous rivers had made the muscles of the boys' arms seem like iron.
Every one of them appeared to be the picture of good health; because
there is absolutely nothing equal to this outdoor life to build up
sturdy constitutions.
Already all of them were at work. The tents went up so rapidly that it
was plain to be seen these lads would easily take the prize offered for
perfection in camp making, in a contest between rival patrols.
The canoes had been safely drawn up on the shelving beach, and doubly
secured; because it would be nothing short of a calamity to lose one of
the handy vessels while so far from civilization, and with no suitable
birch trees around from which another light boat might be fashioned by
the craft of the guides.
The day was nearly done, and when presently the smoke of their campfire
began to ascend in the still air, night crept slowly about them. As it
was the summer season and the days were very long up here in the Far
North, the hour was later than they had ever started in to make camp
before.
Plenty of supplies had apparently been carried along, to judge from the
fragrant odors that soon began to steal forth. All of these lads
belonged to families of wealth, so that at no time were they reduced to
limiting their outfit. Anything that money could buy, and which prudence
would allow to carry with them, was always at their service.
So the guns owned by Ned and his chums were of the latest pattern, and
capable of doing good service when properly handled. The boys, who had
been through campaigns in many parts of their own country, as well as
over the southern border, and in foreign lands as well, and for young
fellows who had not yet attained their majority, all of the scouts had
experienced thrills calculated to make men of mature age proud.
And yet in spite of all this they were genuine boys, with warm hearts,
and fond of practical joking. Seated around the jolly fire after
disposing of supper, while the two guides attended to cleaning up, Jimmy
entertained his mates with a series of rollicking songs, accompanied by
Teddy on his mandolin, which he had somehow managed to smuggle along, in
spite of a careful watch on the part of Ned, who did not wish to take a
single article that was not indispensable, for he knew the gigantic task
that lay ahead of them.
Jimmy has as usual been overboard during the late afternoon. It was not
a voluntary swim the comical chum had been enjoying, either; these
plunges never were, but it seemed as though Jimmy must lose his balance
once in so often just while the canoes were negotiating through some
wild rapids, and in consequence he had to make the passage clinging to
the gunwale.
His red sweater was hanging on a bush to dry in the heat of the fire. It
looked unusually brilliant as seen in the glow of the leaping flames.
Jimmy was very proud of that same old sweater, which had been with him
through so many campaigns that it showed signs of wear and tear. But
though he had another nice navy-blue one in his waterproof clothes bag,
Jimmy persisted in donning the ancient article every blessed day, in
spite of the appeals of his chums.
Ned as usual was poring over his well-thumbed chart. Every day he marked
the new ground they had covered, and very seldom had he found cause to
doubt the correctness of the two guides. And whenever this had happened
it turned out that they were right, and the map wrong.
"Well," Frank finally broke out with, "so far we haven't run across
anything in the shape of a rival expedition, though Ned seemed to think
in the start that was what would happen to us."
"I haven't changed my mind yet," observed the party mentioned, looking
up from examining his chart. "We understood that the syndicate that is
trying to unload this wonderful new mining tract they claim will be
richer than Mesauba on Jack's father as a speculation, knew about our
being sent up here on some secret mission. They could easily guess that
we meant to find out if half of the big claim they made was true, and
that on our report Mr. Bosworth would base any action he might take. Now
it was to be such a tremendously big deal that under the conditions, if
so be there was something crooked about the claims they made, you can
understand that it would pay them handsomely to shunt us off the track,
or else salt the mine, and make us think it would be as rich a
proposition as their prospectus set out."
"But," interrupted Jack, "who could they get to do their crooked work
away up here in this forlorn country, where we haven't run across a
living being since we met that trapper going south with his winter's
catch of pelts?"
"Oh! money will do lots of things," answered Ned. "Given a soft berth,
with good pay, and plenty to eat, and scores of Indian half-breeds,
timber cruisers, guides out of employment along the salmon fishing
streams of the Dominion, and trappers loafing through an off season,
would jump at the bait. There'd be plenty to enlist under the lead of a
bold man hired by the syndicate; if, as we more than half believe,
their claim is a great swindle which they mean to hang about Jack's
father's neck."
"Francois says we will always have to be prepared, and as that is the
motto of Boy Scouts all over the known world, it isn't likely to seem
new to us," Frank Shaw remarked, a little boastfully it must be
confessed, for having passed through so many strange happenings in times
past had given him a touch of what Jimmy was inclined to call the
"swelled head," though any one would have been justified for feeling
proud of such a record of wonderful things accomplished.
The scouts having started on the subject of their mission continued to
discuss it from various angles. In this way they often hit upon
suggestions, because one remark would bring out another until some
fellow chanced to open up a new field of conjecture.
They were deep in the matter, and all taking a hand in the discussion,
when Francois, the dark-faced voyageur, suddenly started to his knees
with a cry of warning. At the same time the boys became aware of the
fact that a strange rushing and pounding noise was rapidly bearing down
upon the little camp on the river bank.
Jimmy happened to be sitting cross-legged like a Turk, a favorite
attitude of his, and becoming excited he could not get up as rapidly as
his chums.
In consequence of this he seemed to be in the way of some huge body that
rushed the camp, scattering the fire, and rending the branches of the
tree under which the exploring party had settled for the night.
It was all over in a few seconds. The camp was in an uproar, one of the
tents down flat, the fire in danger of communicating to the brush, and
Jimmy squealing on his back, where the sudden rush of the mysterious
monster had thrown him.