THE LEGEND OF THE UMSASKIS.
The boys were at the station the next morning when the train from Boston
pulled in.
"There he is," Jack shouted as he caught sight of his friend as he stood
bag in hand on the car platform.
Another moment and the three were shaking hands heartily together.
"It's a treat for sore eyes to see you again," Jack declared.
"And I'm mighty glad to see you."
"Well, let's get over to the house and you can tell us all about it,"
Bob said.
Their car was waiting at the station platform and it was only a few
minutes' ride to their home, so in less than twenty minutes from the
time the train had pulled in they were sitting on the porch listening to
Rex's story.
"As I wrote you a few days ago," he began, "I expected to sail from New
York to-morrow on a business trip to Europe. I had my plans all made and
even had my passage engaged and then like a bolt out of a clear sky we
found that Father's cashier had skipped with nearly a quarter of a
million dollars. John Stebbins had been with us for over twenty years
and we all thought him the very soul of honor. It comes at a very hard
time for Father. You see business has been poor lately and he lost a lot
of money a few months ago through the failure of one of our biggest
customers and the loss of this money will pretty badly cripple him."
"Now I know that you are wondering what I am doing up here in Maine but
I have reason to think that he's up here. Did you ever hear of a lake by
the name Umsaskis?"
The boys thought a moment.
"I'm not sure," Bob replied slowly. "But I think there's a lake by that
name up some twenty or thirty miles north of Chemquessbamticook. It's up
pretty close to the border if I'm correct. But Father will know and he
ought to be home pretty soon."
"Well just a few days ago I happened to pass Stebbins' office and heard
him talking to some man whom I didn't know. I didn't intend to listen
but I was getting some papers out of the safe and couldn't help hearing
what he was saying. He mentioned that lake and I heard him say that he
had been there some years ago and might be there before long. As it was
pretty near to the time he was to leave for his vacation I thought
nothing of it. In fact I had forgotten all about it but after we found
that he had left with the money I remembered it.
"I told Father about it and I can't say that he seemed to attach a great
deal of importance to it but when we couldn't find a single clue to his
whereabouts he consented to my coming up here to see if I could locate
him. You see Father's business is in such shape that if it was known
that he had lost all the money it would be sure to ruin him. So for that
reason, he has not let it be known."
"Will you let us go up there with you?" Jack asked eagerly.
"Will I? I was hoping that you'd propose it. I hated to ask you but I
sure do want you."
"Of course we want to go," Bob assured him. "You couldn't keep us at
home with a ten-horse team."
"And he was saying only yesterday that he hoped nothing would happen the
rest of the summer."
"Oh, well this is different you know," Bob laughed just as his Father
came up the steps.
Mr. Golden gave their friend a most hearty greeting; indeed he was
nearly as fond of Rex Dale as were the boys.
"Welcome to the old Pine Tree State again," he said as he grasped him by
the hand.
"The Pine Tree State always looks mighty good to me, sir," he declared
as he returned the grasp.
"Father, isn't Umsaskis Lake up above Chemquessbamticook?" Bob asked as
soon as the greeting was over.
"Yes. It's some ways above if I remember rightly. All of forty miles I
should say. I know it's pretty close to the border."
"I thought so," Bob said.
"You aren't thinking of going up there, are you?"
"Looks as though we might," and he told his father of Rex's mission.
"I'm mighty sorry to hear that," Mr. Golden declared turning to Rex.
"And you think he may be up there at Umsaskis?"
"It may be a pretty slim chance but I believe it is a chance and I just
had to do something."
"Of course."
"Don't you think yourself, sir, that it would be a good place for a man
to hide up there?"
"Don't believe he could find a better. It's about as wild as you could
wish for up there and I don't suppose there's a white man lives within
fifty or sixty miles of that lake unless it's some lone trapper. I was
up there once many years ago on a hunting trip and I remember we didn't
see a soul for nearly two weeks."
"Then I'm more than ever inclined to think that he has gone there. He is
just the kind of a man who would go off to a place like that and I know
he came from somewhere in the northern part of Maine."
"There's an old legend connected with that lake," Mr. Golden told the
boys while they were waiting for dinner. "Many years ago a large tribe
of Indians lived on the shore of Umsaskis. Moose and deer and bear were
very plentiful and the tribe was wealthy and happy. Big Foot was chief
and White Flower, his daughter was the pride of the tribe. Straight as
an arrow she was and she could outrun and outshoot, with the bow and
arrow, any member of the tribe.
"Many a hopeful young buck came to match his skill with the bow and
arrow and his speed both in running and in paddling the canoe against
her for it was known that she had vowed that she would wed only her
master in these fetes. But one and all they went away sorrowful, for her
arrows always struck nearer the mark than theirs and so swift were her
feet that although she even gave them considerable start never was the
race more than half run before she had passed them. And it is related
how she would paddle her light birch canoe many lengths beyond the outer
mark set for the race and then beat her dusky wooer in by a long margin.
"Then one day in mid-summer came Spotted Tail from a tribe far to the
west with a message for Big Foot. Never was such an Indian as Spotted
Tail. Cast in a perfect mold he was as beautiful a man as was White
Flower a woman. It was a case of love at first sight when they met. For
two days Spotted Tail rested before pitting his strength and skill
against her whom he would wed.
"First came the shooting with the bow and arrow. Frowns of disapproval
settled on the brows of many when White Flower's arrow just brushed the
thin reed with the tip of the feather which guided its flight and they
watched her with hostile eyes when a moment later the arrow of Spotted
Tail split the same reed in two. Did her eyes light up with hope? Who
can tell?
"Then came the foot race. When she motioned her lover to take the
customary fifty feet start loud grunts of disapproval were heard on all
sides and, being appealed to, Big Foot ruled that they should start
together. Did White Flower run with less than her usual swiftness or was
Spotted Tail really her master? Who could tell. But it was evident that
many suspected her when Spotted Tail crossed the line a full foot ahead
of her and she threw herself panting onto the ground.
"But one trial remained, the race with the canoe. And now White Flower
seemed to be putting all her strength into her paddle. Not a foot did
she go farther than was necessary to make the turn and her frail craft
seemed almost to leap from the water as she bore down toward the finish
mark. Suspicions were lulled as it seemed certain that she would win by
a good margin. Spotted Tail was doing his best and his canoe, too, was
rushing over rather than through the water. But she rounded the turn a
full length ahead of him and this lead she had steadily increased on the
home stretch. Then with but a few rods to go a gasp of horror was heard
as her paddle snapped fairly in the middle. There was no excuse in an
Indian race. The first over the line won regardless of what might have
happened.
"As Spotted Tail swept his canoe over the line the winner by several
lengths Big Foot waded out into the lake and picked up the pieces of the
broken paddle. For a moment he examined them and then, without a word he
drew his bow and the next instant his arrow was buried in the heart of
White Flower. It was so sudden that for a moment Spotted Tail stood
motionless then, as if galvanized into action, he snatched a bow from a
young brave and quicker than the eye could follow an arrow sped to the
heart of Big Foot. Then with but a single glance at his hoped-for bride,
he bounded away into the forest and was gone.
"That is the story of White Flower and Spotted Tail. The tribe moved
away soon after but tradition tells that often on moonlight nights a
pure white canoe paddled by a figure dressed in snow white buckskin can
be seen skimming the waters of Umsaskis Lake. No Indian will go near the
place and even the half-breeds give it a wide berth."
"Did you see the ghost?" Bob asked as Mr. Golden brought his story to a
close.
"No. I did not see it," Mr. Golden smiled.
"It's a pretty story," Rex declared.
"Perhaps you will have better luck if you go up there," Mr. Golden said
just as the dinner bell rang.
"I would sure like to see it, or rather her," Bob laughed as he followed
the others into the house.
"How would you advise us to go?" Bob asked his father when they were
again on the porch.
"If I were you I'd take the car up as far as North East Carry. Then you
can get a canoe there and make a short carry to the West Branch of the
Penobscot. Follow that for about twenty miles or perhaps a little more
and it will bring you to the head of Chesuncook Lake. Wait a minute till
I get a map and I'll make out the rest of the course. Here we are now,"
he resumed after Jack had returned with the map. "Now we're right here,"
pointing with his finger, "at the head of Chesuncook. Now you take this
little stream up to Umbazooksses Lake. Then you'll have to carry across
to Chamberlain Lake. From there you see it's clear sailing up through
Pomgoewahem Lake and Churchill Lake into the Allagash River. You'll find
some pretty swift water part of the way along the Allagash and you'll
probably have to make a number of carries."
"How far do we follow the Allagash?" Bob asked.
"Till you come to the big falls about fifty miles where you enter the
river from Churchill Lake."
"But look here, Father, someone has got things balled up a bit. Here's
Umsaskis Lake right here just a few miles above Churchill." And Jack
pointed with his finger.
"I know. That's the Old or Big Umsaskis as it is often called. The
Little Umsaskis is a much smaller Lake far to the north. Of course," he
said turning to Rex, "I don't suppose you can be sure which one Stebbins
referred to, can you?"
"I'm pretty sure that it was the one farthest north," Rex replied after
a short pause. "I remember hearing him say that there was no other lake
within twenty or thirty miles of it."
"Then it must have been Little Umsaskis," Mr. Golden declared. "You can
see that there's a number of lakes much nearer than that to the lower
one."
"I think so, sir. But we can take a look around when we get that far and
see if we can find anything."
"That would be wise," Mr. Golden agreed. "But to come back where we
were. When you come to the big falls you will have to leave the canoe
and strike off due east. The Little Umsaskis is about twenty miles from
the falls and it is uphill most of the way. Pick out the highest peak
you can see and head straight for it. The lake lies in a depression
between that peak and the one nearer the lake which is much lower."
"I guess we'll be able to find it all right," Jack declared.
"Oh, you can't miss it," his father assured him.
"How large is the lake?" Rex asked.
"Well, it's nearly round and perhaps three miles across."
"Any trout in it?" Jack asked.
"I know he'd want to know that sooner or later," Bob laughed.
"Plenty when I was there and I suppose there are now. And we got some
big fellows too. I wouldn't dare tell you just how large," and Mr.
Golden smiled.
"You might tell us how big the ones were that got away," Jack laughed.
"They're always the largest of course," Mr. Golden smiled. "But when are
you intending to start?"
"The sooner the better I suppose," Bob replied looking at Rex. "I
thought we could put in this afternoon getting the things together and
get an early start in the morning."
"I guess that would be best," Mr. Golden agreed. "But I must be off to
the office. I'll see you at supper."
The boys had been on so many trips of a like nature that they knew just
what was needed and by four o'clock everything was in readiness for the
start on the morrow.
They were to go as far as The North East Carry on Moosehead Lake in the
little car which they had equipped with an electric motor run by the new
cell which the boys had invented.
"Well, how goes it?" Mr. Golden asked as he came up the steps and found
the boys pouring over the map again.
"All set," Jack replied.
"Sure you got everything?"
"So far's I know."
"Better take plenty of food."
"I should think we had enough to last an army a month," Rex laughed.
"And you'll need a lot. The Maine Woods is a great appetizer as you'll
find out before you get back and you can't tell how long you may be
gone. A little too much is a whole lot better than a little too little."
"I'll say it is," Jack laughed.
"I'll tell you what I'd do," Mr. Golden said as if struck by a sudden
thought. "I'd take Kernertok along. He knows all about that country up
there and I always feel safer when I know he's along with you. And then
he'll be a lot of help on the carries."
"Just the thing," Bob said enthusiastically. "We'll stop for him on the
way up. It will only delay us a couple of hours and we'll more than make
up for the time by having him along."
Kernertok, an old Indian trapper, had long been a friend of the Golden
Boys and it was he who had taught them all they knew about woodcraft and
the hundred and one things so necessary to life in the vast forest of
northern Maine.
The sun had hardly lifted its head over the horizon the next morning
when they were off.
"Good-bye, good luck and be careful," Mr. Golden, who had gotten up to
see them off, shouted as they drove out of the yard.
"Sure thing," Jack called back.
It was a beautiful morning early in August. The night had been almost
cold and the early morning air, was, as Rex put it, decidedly snappy.
"I'll bet this air's loaded with ozone," he declared as he drew a deep
breath into his lungs.
"It's the best ever," Bob agreed.
"Did you ever see any thing prettier than that?" Jack asked a little
over two hours later as they reached the top of a high hill.
"I never did," Rex declared as he gazed down at the broad expanse of
Moosehead Lake spread out like a mirror almost at their feet.
"That's one of the Coburn fleet," Bob said pointing to a steamer which
was making its way up the lake.
"Looks like one of the boats I used to sail in the bath tub from here,"
Rex laughed.
"It's the Kathadin," Jack declared. "And she'll carry six hundred people
besides a lot of freight."
"How big is Moosehead?" Rex asked.
"Forty miles long and a little over eighteen miles wide in the widest
place," Bob told him.
"Some lake."
"Largest in New England," Jack said proudly.
An hour later, when about half way up the lake Bob brought the car to a
stop.
"We turn off here," he said as he pointed to a narrow trail leading to
the right.
"Do you mean to say that you can run the car over that road?" Rex asked
anxiously.
"It won't be the first time," Bob laughed. "But you want to hang on with
both hands."
"Guess I'd better use my teeth also," Rex laughed a few minutes later as
he struck the seat.
"If you go through the top be sure and come down through the same hole
so as not to make two holes," Jack shouted.
"I'll do my best."
At places the trail seemed impassable for a car but Bob kept on much to
Rex's amazement.
"Do you ever climb trees with this car?" he asked a little later, as it
hit a particularly large bump.
"Not very often," Bob laughed.
"I'll bet she'd do it at that," Jack added.
"Not a bit of doubt about it in my mind," Rex declared.
"Here's where we have to abandon ship," Bob announced a little later as
he brought the car to a stop. "It's about a mile through the woods to
Kernertok's cabin."
"I'm surprised that you don't drive right up to his door," Rex said with
a grin.
"Trouble is, the trees are too thick together to get her through," Jack
explained.
"And you'd stop her for a little thing like that?"
"You might wait here, Rex, while we walk in," Bob suggested.
"Not on your life. I want to see his cabin."
"All right then. Come on."
"And make it snappy," Jack added.
"I guess you would have some trouble in getting even that car through
here," Rex laughed a few minutes as he squeezed himself between two
trees.
"We're almost there," Bob announced a little later. "Give him a call,
Jack."
Jack put his fingers to his lips and the clear shrill call of the
whip-poor-will rang through the forest. For a moment they listened.
"Afraid he isn't home," Bob said.
"I'll try him again," and once more Jack sent the call from his lips.
"How in the world would he know that it wasn't a genuine bird?" Rex
asked.
Bob smiled.
"Jack puts a peculiar touch to the last note which is the real signal
between us and Kernertok. I doubt if any one else would notice it."
"I should say not."
For the third time Jack whistled and this time almost at once the call
came back to them.
"He's home," Jack shouted.
"Sure's pop. Come on."
Before they had taken more than a dozen steps a dog came bounding toward
them.
"Here, Sicum. Good old Sicum."
The dog with a yelp of joy leaped upon them, but uttered a low growl as
he saw Rex.
"It's all right, old fellow. He's one of us," Bob said as he took Rex by
the hand.
Thus assured the intelligent animal crouched at Rex's feet and allowed
him to place his hand on his head.
"Sicum doesn't take readily to strangers but if he once accepts you he's
a friend for life," Jack explained. "You're in good with him now and
he'll never forget you."
Old Kernertok was standing in front of his cabin as they approached.
"Hello, there, Kernertok," Jack shouted.
"How," the Indian replied.
"Fine as silk, and you?"
"Injun heap well."
"You look it," Bob assured him as he shook hands.
The boys then introduced their friend.
"Sicum has accepted him, so you can be sure he's all right," Jack
laughed.
"Injun heap glad know friend of white boys," Kernertok assured him.
"And it's a great pleasure for me to know you," Rex replied as he took
the old Indian's hand. "I've heard so much about you from the boys that
I feel as though I had known you for a long time already. Believe me,
they never get tired of talking about you."
"White boys talk heap too much," the Indian grunted and the boys all
laughed.
"What bring white boys up here now?"
"It's a pretty long story and we'd better sit down," Bob suggested.
Kernertok motioned to them to come inside the cabin and as soon as they
were seated on the floor Bob told him as quickly as possible about their
mission.
Kernertok uttered no word until Bob had finished.
"Injun glad to go with white boys. Injun know all that land. It heap big
woods."
"How soon can you be ready?" Bob asked.
"Ten minute."
And to Rex's great surprise it was but a very little more than that time
when he announced that he was ready to start.
"I was afraid he might balk on account of that ghost story your father
told us," Rex whispered while the Indian was outside.
"Oh, Kernertok's too civilized to take any stock in that kind of stuff,"
Bob told him.
"You got um heap much grub?" Kernertok asked as they were about to make
the start.
"I think we've got plenty," Bob assured him.
It took some persuasion to induce Sicum to get into the car, but by the
time they had reached the main road he was quite reconciled to the new
method of travel and seemed to enjoy it.