A NEW KIND OF BED-ROOM.
It was shortly after noon the following day when they reached the
town of Red Shirt. The half dozen or so log cabins were huddled
closely together at the foot of a fairly high mountain and the first
person they saw, a huge bulk of a man with a thick shaggy red beard,
wore a shirt of the brightest red.
"That must be the shirt," Jack whispered to Bob.
"It's red enough anyway," Bob whispered back.
The man was standing on the porch of the largest of the cabins which,
somewhat to the boy's surprise, proved to be a store well stocked
with goods.
"Howdy," he greeted them as they came to a stop an front of the store.
"How do you do," both boys answered his salutation while Lucky
grunted "how."
"Why, eets Lucky Hogan," the man said as he recognized the Indian
who's back had been turned until he spoke.
"Oui, it's me," he said holding out his hand which the other grasped.
"An' them boys dey Bob an' Jack Lakewood. Heap fine boys."
"Ver' glad know yer," the big man smiled shaking hands with them in
turn. "Come in where eet be warm."
A huge stove, its sides red hot, in the center of the room made the
heat seem almost stifling to the boys after the long continued cold
outside.
"Whar yer go, eh?"
They were hardly inside before the man asked the question.
"We hardly know," Bob told him. "You see, we are looking for my
uncle who came up here ten or twelve weeks ago and has not been heard
from since. We thought you might have seen him."
"Heem name Lakewood?"
"Yes, Silas Lakewood and he was with a man by the name of Long."
"Jeem Long?"
"I do not know his first name."
"That heem, Jeem," Lucky broke in. "You know Jeem," he added turning
to the big man.
"Oui, I know heem," he replied in a tone which expressed dislike if
not hatred.
"Did you see them?" Bob asked a bit impatiently.
"Oui, I see 'em both."
"Do you remember how long ago it was?"
"Eet quite some long time, mebby tree month, mebby only two, I dunno."
"They stopped here?"
"Oui, two mebby tree day."
"And did they say where they were going?"
"Non. They seem have beeg secret. No tell whar dey go."
"But they went up river?"
"Oui."
"And you haven't seen or heard from them since?"
"Non. No see, no hear."
"What do you know about this man, Long?" Bob asked after a moment's
silence.
"Heem no bon. Heem one bad man."
"You mean he's a thief?"
"Mebby. Heem bad man. No bon."
Just then the door opened and a man entered.
"Thees Jere Laduc," the storekeeper introduced him. "Heem jest come
from up river. Mebby heem seen 'em." Then turning to the new-comer
he asked: "Yer see Jeem Long up river, Jere?"
The Canuck, a small wiry looking man, with a smooth face, took off
his cap and scratched his head thoughtfully before answering.
"Oui," he said finally. "I see Jeem Long."
"Was there another man with him?" Bob asked.
"Oui, beeg man."
"Do you know his name?"
Jere scratched his head again.
"I forget. I hear heem, oui, but no remember."
"Was it Lakewood?"
"Dat eet, Lakewood."
"Where did you see them?"
"Eet was 'bout ten mile above Batzahakat."
"Is that a town?"
"Oui."
"How far from here?"
"Hunered mile."
"And how long ago was it that you saw them?"
The breed scratched his head a long time before answering.
"Eet must be two month," he finally concluded.
"You know him, this man, Long?"
"Oui, heem no bon."
There was no hesitation this time.
"Testimony seems to be unanimous on that point at any rate," Jack
whispered.
"Did he tell you where he was going?" was Bob's next question.
"Non, heem no say."
"Do you know if they went north?"
"Dunno. Dey leave early in mornin'. Me no see 'em go."
"I guess that's about all the information we'll get here," Bob
whispered to Jack.
"Looks that way," Jack agreed.
The storekeeper invited them to stay over a night in the settlement
but, after a brief conference, they decided that time was too
precious and that they would push on. So, after thanking him and
purchasing a few things they needed, they said good bye and started
off up the river. Altogether they had stopped an hour and, although
they had learned nothing which was very definite except that their
uncle had really been there, somehow the boys felt slightly
encouraged.
"Evidently that man Long's a bad egg," Jack said as they trudged out
of the village.
"Everyone seems to think so," Bob agreed.
"The inhabitants of this burg seem to keep pretty close indoors,"
Jack remarked just as they struck the river.
"Them eat dinner now," Lucky told him.
On the river the traveling was good and they made twenty-five miles
before camping for the night.
"River tak' heap beeg bend leetle way above here an', in the mornin'
we go east, cut off mebby twenty mile," the Indian told them.
For the past three days they had heard nothing from the wolves and
both boys hoped that they had given up following them. Lucky
shrugged his shoulders when Bob mentioned it as if to say that it did
not matter to him one way or the other.
"Any fish in this river, Lucky," Jack asked as soon as they had cut
the wood for the night.
"Oui, heap beeg salmon. Some trout."
"Suppose I could catch one through the ice?"
"Dunno, mebby."
"Well, I've got a hook and line and I'm going to make a stab at it.
Fresh fish won't go bad."
They were camping in a clump of woods just a few yards from the river
and, taking one of the axes, Jack was soon cutting a hole in the ice.
This took longer than he had thought for the ice was nearly eighteen
inches thick and it was pretty dark by the time he was ready to drop
in his hook which he had baited with a piece of pork.
"Hope they like pork," he said to himself as he dropped in the hook.
His hope was quickly realized for before the bait had sunk more than
five or six feet he felt a strong yank and pulled in a trout nearly
fifteen inches long. Quickly he rebaited the hook and dropped it
back through the hole. This time he had to wait a little longer, but
inside of twenty minutes he had landed three more trout and two
salmon of about five pounds weight each.
"Not bad for the first time," he chuckled as he strung them together
on a bit of line which he found in his pocket.
"Yer catch um feesh?" Lucky asked as he came whistling up in the
gathering darkness.
"What did I go after?" he asked.
"Feesh."
"Well, when I go after fish, fish is what I bring back. Ask Bob if
you don't believe it." And he held up the string in the light of the
fire.
"Yer catch um," Lucky declared.
"He always does," Bob assured him. "That boy could catch fish in a
water bucket."
Soon the two salmon were sizzling in the frying pan and they proved a
very welcome addition to their fare.
The next morning they were up early and just as day was breaking,
they left the river and struck off due east. The sun came up thickly
overcast and Lucky gave it as his opinion that it would snow before
noon.
"You're a good weather prophet, Lucky," Jack said when, a little
after ten o'clock, the first flakes began to fall.
There was no wind and the snowflakes at first drifted lazily to the
earth as if in no hurry to get there. Soon they were coming in
greater abundance and, although there was still no wind, the boys
noticed that the Indian was casting an anxious eye toward the sky.
"You think it's going to be a bad storm?" Jack asked him.
"No wind all right. Wind heem begin blow be heap bad. No woods for
many mile."
"Well, the snow has held off for a good while for this time of year
so I suppose we ought not to kick if we do get it now," Bob said
philosophically.
"I reckon it's going to blow some at least," Jack said an hour later
as he felt a slight breeze fan his face. "Those flakes aren't coming
down straight any more."
It was snowing hard and there was a fairly strong breeze when they
stopped for dinner at twelve o'clock although it was not yet strong
enough to cause the snow to sting.
"About how far from here is there a piece of timber," Bob asked as
they were getting ready to start off again.
"Mebby twenty mile, mebby leetle more."
Enough snow had already fallen to make it hard going and within an
hour they were taking turns breaking trail for the dogs. The wind
was steadily increasing in force and the snow showed no sign of
abatement.
"We'll never make that woods tonight at the rate we're going," Jack
declared.
"Non, we no mak' heem. We look for bon place mak' camp. Heem goin'
blow heap hard soon."
Lucky was right again for they had not been traveling an hour before
the wind had risen to the force of a gale and was driving the sharp
particles of snow against their faces with stinging violence.
"Whew, but this is work," Jack panted as he came back from breaking
trail to allow Lucky to take his turn.
"I'll say you're right," Bob agreed.
It was impossible to see more than a few feet ahead and it was a
mystery to the boys how the Indian could keep a straight course
especially as the wind seemed to change its direction frequently.
But he seemed sure of his way and the boys had no reason to doubt his
judgment.
By half past two the dogs began to show signs of distress and the
Indian gave it as his opinion that they had better stop.
"No must keel um dog," he declared.
"I'll say we mustn't, but how are we going to camp here in the open?"
Bob asked.
"Injun show white boys."
All day they had been traveling over a flat country and there was not
even a hill to give them the slightest protection. Still they felt
sure that Lucky knew best and if he said camp why, camp it was.
"We mak' um house," he said as he pulled the shovels from the sled.
"We sleep all right, but have eat cold supper, no got wood."
The prospect was anything but pleasant, but the boys were not unused
to hardships and there was no grumbling as they set to work digging a
hole in the snow under directions from the Indian.
"Mak' heem 'bout eight feet long an' seex wide," he told them, as he
turned to care for the dogs.
There was now about four feet of snow on the level, and, as the old
snow was packed down very hard, it took them some little time to
complete the task.
"Reckon it'll drift in about as fast as we can shovel it out," Jack
grumbled as he threw out the last few; shovelfuls of snow.
"Then we can have the pleasure of shoveling it out again," Bob
laughed.
"I believe you'd laugh if you were going to be hanged."
"Not quite that bad, but might as well laugh as cry, you know."
Thanks to Lucky's thoughtfulness in bringing along a small alcohol
stove they were able to make coffee which made the supper seem a
little more cheerful.
"What about the dogs?" Bob asked.
"Dog all right. No mind snow if not too tired," the Indian assured
them.
It was only a little after four o'clock when they finished supper,
but it was already dark. Not that it made so much difference, as
Jack declared, seeing that the snow was coming down so fast that they
could only see a short distance anyhow.
"You shovel um out again and we feex roof," Lucky said as soon as the
meal was finished.
"What you going to make a roof out of?" Jack asked.
"I show white boy. You geet snow out."
The snow was already several inches deep in the dugout, as Jack
called it, but they made short work of it and finished just as the
Indian dragged up a piece of canvas about twelve feet long and eight
wide.
"I see what our roof's to be now," Jack laughed.
When spread over the dugout the canvas overlapped about three feet on
each side and on it they shoveled snow, stamping it down good and
hard with their feet.
"Now heem hold some snow," the Indian declared when they had two feet
or more of hard packed snow on either end.
"But it won't hold up all night if it keeps up like this," Bob said
doubtfully.
"We clean heem off one two time, mebby."
"Mebby is right," Bob laughed.
It was very cold, but after they had crawled info the dugout and into
their sleeping bags they were plenty warm.
"If we only could have gotten some boughs," Jack complained. "This
ground was laid hard side up."
"You ought to be thankful that you've got any ground to lie on," Bob
told him.
"Is that intended for a joke?"
"No. Why?"
"I thought there was no ground for it."
"Smarty."
"Well, don't blame me. I was born that way, you know."
"Just hear that wind," Bob said a few minutes later. "I can't help
feeling sorry for the poor dogs outside."
"Them dog all huddle up together. Keep um all warm," Lucky assured
them.
"But they'll be buried before morning," Jack objected.
"Sure, snow heap warm. No mind that."
"Well, I'm glad to know that they won't suffer. It's snug as a bug
in a rug in here," Jack declared.
"How about a story, Lucky?" Bob asked.
For more than two hours, while the storm howled and blew outside, the
Indian entertained them with wonderful stories of the North Land. He
was a splendid story teller in spite of his broken English and they
could hardly believe it when he announced that it was nearly eight
o'clock and time they were asleep.
"Injun shovel off snow an' den we go sleep," he said as he wiggled
out of his bag.
"Is it snowing as hard as ever?" Bob asked when he slid back into the
dugout.
"Heem come down heap hard."
"Guess we'll have to hole up here for the rest of the winter," Jack
said.
"Not so bad if we could sleep all the time," Bob laughed.
In spite of the hard ground they were soon fast asleep. Bob awoke
some hours later and felt the Indian moving at his side.
"Anything wrong?" he whispered
"Injun shovel off snow one time more. Roof heem sag some," Lucky
whispered back.
Reaching up with his hand Bob could tell that the roof was indeed
sagging.
"Let me go this time," he said.
"Non, Injun no mind eet."
Bob was asleep when the Indian returned and did not hear him. Some
time later he dreamed that he was lying at the foot of a high
precipice. Overhead, jutting out from the top of the cliff, hung a
volume of snow which he knew was about to fall on him. And yet he
was unable to move try as he might. He could see the immense mass,
slowly slipping at first, and then gathering speed as it approached.
He wondered why it did not fall more rapidly. It seemed to take a
fearful long time getting down, but, finally it was just above his
head and he closed his eyes as he realized that he would be buried in
another instant. Then it struck.
"What the Sam Hill!" he heard some one say in tones which sounded far
off.
"Roof heem fall in," another voice answered.
Realizing at last that he was awake and that his dream had, in a
measure, come true almost before it was over, he began to paw his way
out. But the others were also pawing and soon they were all tangled
up in a mass of canvas and snow.
"Wait till I get my bearings, you fellows," he shouted.
"Get 'em quick then or I'll suffocate," Jack gasped.
After what seemed an interminable time, and during which Jack urged
him to hurry, he succeeded in getting hold of an edge of the canvas
and crawling out from beneath it Then he quickly pulled it from off
the others and soon they were all standing up. It was still snowing
hard and the wind seemed to be blowing hard as ever.
"Some spill, that," Jack declared.
"Spill is right," Bob agreed.
"Heap lot snow," Lucky added.
"Well, what'll we do?" Jack asked after a moment's pause.
"What time is it?" Bob asked.
"Half past five."
"Better dig out and fix the roof again, hadn't we?" Bob proposed.
"What do you say, Lucky?"
"Oui, better do."
It was very dark, but they had flashlights with them and by their aid
they quickly located the shovels in one corner of the dugout and the
two boys fell to work while the Indian busied himself getting the
strip of canvas straightened out.
It took the better part of an hour to get their home cleaned out and
the roof on again, but it was finally accomplished and they were once
more, as Jack put it, stowed away again. None of them were inclined
to sleep so they fell to discussing the situation.
"Will it pay to start out while it's storming?" Bob asked.
"Non. Eet too hard on dog," the Indian told them.
"To say nothing of the effect on us," Jack chuckled.
"But we can't stay here forever," Bob objected.
"Wind, heem changing. Snow stop leetle while."
"Hope you're right," Jack said.
"Which he usually is," Bob put in.
And this time was no exception to the rule for, shortly before seven
o'clock, the Indian, after sticking his head out, declared that it
was only snowing a "leetle" and that the wind was dying down.
"We geet hot coffee an' a bite an' den we start, eh?"
"So say we all of us," Jack sang.
Their progress that day was distressingly slow to the boys who were
ever fearful that, if they found their uncle at all, it would be too
late. But they were obliged to consider the dogs. They were willing
to do all that could be asked of them, but there was a limit to their
endurance and dragging the heavily loaded sled through the deep snow
was no easy task. Still, as Jack put it, they were more than holding
their own and, about four o'clock they came to woods and here they
decided to make camp, cheered by Lucky's assurance that they would
reach the town the next day.
They had brought the rest of the fish Jack had caught, with them and
how good a hot meal did taste.
"I tell you, you never appreciate a thing till you have to do without
it," Bob declared as he readied for his third helping.