TIMBER WOLVES.
The town of Batzahakat is very much like Red Shirt. A few log
cabins, one of which serves as a store, huddled together on the bank
of the river. It was growing dark when two very tired boys and six
nearly played out dogs and an Indian, who acknowledged that he had
been more rested, dragged themselves up the bank and made their way
along the single short street to the store.
"Do you know the man who keeps the store?" Bob had asked the Indian
earlier in the day.
"Oui, Injun know heem. Heem name Jules Lamont. Heem Frenchman, no
breed," Lucky told them.
"Is he all right?" Bob had asked.
"Oui, heem bon man," Lucky had assured them.
And now they soon found that he was again right for, as soon as they
had entered the store, Jules Lamont gave them a hearty welcome and
assured them that he had plenty of room for them in his cabin just
out behind.
Jules Lamont had a wife who was fully as kind in her welcome as was
he and she was a splendid cook as they soon learned.
"Gee, but it seems kind of good to get into a bed once more," Jack
said when, soon after supper, their host had shown them to a well
furnished room above the living room. There were two beds in the
room and Lucky occupied the other.
Yes, he remembered Silas Lakewood very well and the man Long as well,
he told them the next morning when, while eating breakfast, they told
him of their errand.
"They stay here three four days," he told them in almost perfect
English.
"Did they say where they were going?" Bob asked.
"They say they go up river, but not how far."
"And you haven't seen them since?"
"Not since."
"Do you remember just how long ago it was they were here?" was Bob's
next question.
"Pretty hard say. Time goes ver' slow up here an' I forget. Mebby
seven weeks, mebby eight or nine, but no more than nine sure."
"Do you know Long?" Jack asked.
"Oui, I know him long time."
"What kind of a man is he?"
"Not good. I not trust him."
"He's sure got a bad reputation," Jack said. "We haven't heard a
single good word about him yet."
"After breakfast over we go see some other men an' ask them what they
know," Jules told them.
He had urged them the night before to stay over a day and they had
agreed after Lucky had assured them that a day's rest would be of
great benefit to the dogs and that they would more than make up for
the lost time.
"One day geeve snow time to settle an' mak' more bon goin'," he
assured them.
By noon they had interviewed probably nearly everyone in the village,
Jules going with them and introducing them. They found the people
universally courteous and eager to be of service, but they learned no
more than they already knew. It was evident that neither their uncle
or Long had confided in anyone, keeping their destination a secret.
The next morning they got an early start. Although it would be
several hours before the sun would make its appearance, it was not
dark as the moon was full. The dogs had indeed profited by their
day's rest and had fully recovered their eagerness or pep as Jack put
it. It was twenty-five degrees below zero when they drove off after
thanking their host and hostess for their kindness.
"We ver' glad to have you an' hope you find your uncle all right an'
hope you stop longer time on way back," Jules Lamont told them as he
shook hands.
"We'd sure like to and will if we can," they assured him.
"He's a mighty fine man," Bob said as soon as they were out of the
village.
"And his wife's a queen if there ever was one," Jack added.
"If you've got any more friends like them up this way just lead us to
them," Bob told Lucky.
"Jules, heem best, but they some others," Lucky said.
Their way now lay straight up the river and, as the snow had settled,
they were able to make better time especially as they found that two
or more teams had been ahead of them and broken a fairly good trail.
They had been traveling for about three hours and the sun was just
beginning to show itself when Jack, who was walking slightly ahead of
the Indian, turned to ask him a question. Instead of answering him,
to his surprise Lucky grabbed up a handful of snow and the next
instant he was vigorously rubbing Jack's nose with it.
"Hey, there, what's the b-b-big idea?" he sputtered.
"White boy hold still."
"Like f-f-fun I w-w-will. I-I-I want t-to know--"
"Don't get excited, Jack," Bob laughed.
"But--"
"Your nose was freezing."
"Freezing nothing. I didn't feel a thing," Jack retorted.
"And that's just what the trouble was. But I reckon you can feel it
now."
"I'll say I can. It hurts."
"That's the frost coming out of it. It'll be all right after a bit,"
Bob assured him.
"Jack have heap bad nose, Injun no rub heem," Lucky explained.
"And I'm much obliged," Jack grinned realizing now that the Indian
had indeed done him a good turn.
They were two days making the next town about eighty miles farther
north. This was Arctic City, so called because of being situated
exactly on the Arctic Circle. The weather had held clear and cold
and they had made good time and were in good spirits as they entered
the town about three o'clock. Although only the middle of the
afternoon it was dark enough for lights in the cabins. Indeed there
was only about five hours a day during which the sun was above the
horizon.
Arctic City much resembled the other towns through which they had
passed and they found the people much the same type. They were
kindly received and secured a comfortable room for the night. During
the evening they interviewed several of the men of the place most of
whom were known to the Indian. But it was just as they were about to
start off the next morning that they received their first real clue.
The dogs were harnessed and Lucky had already given the order to
"Mush" when a very small man dressed in a heavy bearskin coat shouted
to them to wait a minute.
"Wonder what he wants," Bob said as Lucky ordered the dogs to stop.
"Reckon we'll know in a minute," Jack told him.
"Yer lookin' fer two mans, eh?" the little man asked as he came
puffing up.
"Yes," Bob told him. "Can you give us any information regarding
them?"
"Mebby. What der name?"
"Silas Lakewood is one and the other is a man named Long."
"Oui, I see 'em."
"When?" Bob asked the question with much eagerness in his voice.
"'Bout seex week ago."
"And where did you see them?"
"Een Mountain nor' of Beaver."
"Where is Beaver?" Jack broke in.
"'Bout feefty mile nor' here."
"And how far from Beaver are the mountains?"
"'Bout same."
"Please tell us what you knew."
"Oui. 'Bout seex week ago me go up dar hunt bear. No find heem an'
stay long time, ten day, mebby two week. Go round ver' mooch. One
day I see leetle cabin an' smoke come out heem. I been dar before
an' never see cabin so I know heem new. I go up an' go to knock on
door when I hear mad man talk. I leesten an' hear heem say 'you sign
dat paper or you no go away from here. I leesten an' hear nodder man
say, 'I no sign heem'. Den odder man heem sware ver' mooch an' I
come away. I think eet not my beeseness an' I stay mebby I geet
hurt."
"But what makes you think they were the men we are after?" Bob asked
when he had finished.
"I hear one man call odder dat name, Lakewood," the man told them.
"Then I reckon they were the men all right," Bob said turning to Jack
and Lucky.
"No doubt about it," Jack agreed while the Indian nodded his head.
"And do you think they are still there?" Bob asked.
"I dunno 'bout that. I come away: no see 'em any more."
"Do you know where that place is?" Bob asked turning to Lucky.
"Oui, I been there."
"And you think you can find that cabin?"
Instead of replying the Indian turned to the small man and asked:
"You tell me where heem be, eh?"
"Dar two beeg mountain up dar. You know heem?"
"Oui."
"Cabin right 'tween 'em 'bout half way een."
"Bon. I find heem."
Bob pulled a five dollar bill from his pocket and offered it to the
man, but he shook his head.
"Please take it," Bob urged. "Your information is worth a lot to us
and I want to make you a little present. Just take it and buy
yourself something."
After a little hesitation the man accepted the bill thanking Bob with
a great display of feeling.
"Well, it looks as though we had something definite to go on now,"
Jack declared as soon as they were once more on the river.
"Do you know that man?" Bob asked the Indian.
"Non."
"You never saw him before?"
"Non."
"Then we don't know whether he was telling the truth or not."
"But why would he lie to us?" Jack asked.
"I don't know unless it was to get some money."
"But he didn't want to take it."
"He didn't seem to you mean."
"Well, maybe, but he looked honest to me."
"And he did to me too. What do you think, Lucky?"
"I think heem straight."
"Then I reckon it's all right. We'll take it for granted anyhow
until we find out to the contrary."
Greatly to their disappointment they got no more information in the
little village of Beaver which they reached late that night. No one
seemed to have seen the men although they found several who said that
they knew Long, but none of them had seen him for more than a year.
"Looks as though they had given this burg the go-by," Jack said when
they were in the little room which they had secured for the night.
"It does look that way," Bob agreed. "I wonder why?"
"Probably too near the scene of their operations."
"Maybe."
"But the farther north we go the worse that man Long's reputation
seems to get."
"He must be a bad egg for a fact. He's certainly not popular."
They camped the next night at the beginning of the pass which led
between the two mountains which reared their snowy summits far up
toward the sky.
"Cabin not more'n 'bout two mebby three mile from here," Lucky told
them as he halted the team. It was only two o'clock, the place not
being so far from the town as they had thought from what the little
Frenchman had told them. Lucky had told them when starting out that
morning that he thought the man was mistaken as to the distance but,
as he had not been there for a number of years, he was not sure.
They had found a splendid place for a camp. Beneath an overhanging
rock, the ground was almost free from snow as a circle of thick
spruce trees in front and about twenty feet away had protected it on
the open side. Here they made beds of thick spruce boughs and a
roaring fire soon warmed the face of the rock by its reflection so
that it seemed impossible that the temperature outside was nearly
forty below. Before leaving the river early the preceding day, they
had stopped long enough to cut a hole in the ice and allow Jack to
catch a dozen large trout and five or six salmon, enough, as Bob
said, to last them a couple of weeks.
After supper was over they sat for some time in front of the fire and
discussed plans for the morrow.
"We got be ver' careful," Lucky told them. "Dat man, Long, heem bad
man an' heem get mad he shoot, oui."
"But we'll be three against one, not counting Uncle Silas," Jack
reminded him.
"But heem got gun an' bullet go ver' fast."
"Lucky's right, Jack," Bob declared. "We must play it safe. Of
course there may not be any trouble and everything may be all right
and I sure hope it is but if he's keeping Uncle up here against his
will, the way it looks, he's probably playing for big stakes."
"But why should he want to keep him up here?"
"That's what we've got to find out. According to what that man said
he was trying to get him to sign some paper. Now, if that's right,
my guess is that they've found gold and he was trying to get him to
sign away his rights to it. Of course, that's only a guess."
"Heem ver' bon guess," Lucky added.
"Couldn't make a better myself," Jack assured him.
"Then I'm flattered," Bob smiled.
"Then what do you think we'd better do?" Jack asked, turning to the
Indian.
"I tink you better stay here an' Injun go up see what doin'."
"Don't you think it would be better for me to go?" Bob asked.
"White boy no know way," Lucky objected.
"But I couldn't help finding it if it's between these mountains. You
see, it's this way. That man Long knows you and if he should see you
he'd smell a mouse, but he's never seen me."
Although the Indian saw the force of the argument and made many
objections to the plan he finally gave in and it was settled that as
soon as it was light enough to see Bob should start to spy out the
land.
That night, for the first time in several days, they heard wolves,
but they were far off and Lucky did not think that they had scented
them.
"White boy be heap careful," was Lucky's parting word the next
morning, as Bob started off just as it was beginning to get light.
It was nearly ten o'clock and he had waited impatiently several hours
for the time to start. Besides his automatic he took with him a 38
Remington with which he was an expert shot. It was his favorite
rifle and he was very choice with it. More than one buck had fallen
before it in the woods of Maine and once it had brought down a large
moose. With it he felt safe.
Although he could hardly believe it the thermometer said forty below
when he left the camp, but so clear and dry was the air that it
hardly seemed cold at all.
The passage between the mountains was very narrow, in fact, there was
hardly any level ground between them, one seeming to rise at the foot
of the other, so he had little fear of missing the cabin provided it
was really there. The dry snow creaked pleasantly beneath his
snow-shoes as he strode along humming a favorite song. Tall trees
grew so closely together that he was unable to keep to anything like
a straight course, but this gave him no worry. He had the day before
him and there was no hurry.
He had gone perhaps three quarters of a mile when he was brought up
short by a long drawn out howl, seemingly not very far away.
"That was a timber wolf," he thought as he peered anxiously through
the trees.
The howl was answered almost immediately from the side of the other
mountain and, for a moment, he wondered if he would not be wise to
turn back.
"I don't belive ther's more than two of them," he thought as he
listened.
But even as the thought passed through his mind a third howl broke
the stillness and this one was surely behind him.
"Seem to have me surrounded," he muttered, as he started on again.
Whether there were more than three of the wolves he was unable to
tell, but that they were coming nearer there was no doubt. Soon,
peering through an opening in the trees, he caught sight of a
skulking gray shape just as it raised its head and sent its mournful
howl through the forest. But that howl was its last for, before it
was finished, he had raised his rifle and sent a bullet crashing
through its head. The wolf dropped in its tracks, gave a convulsive
kick or two and was still.
"One less anyhow," Bob muttered as he ran forward to where the wolf
was stretched.
About ten yards from where he was standing was a large tree with low
branches and, as another howl rang out not hundred yards away, he ran
toward it resolved to make a stand there knowing that wolves could
not climb a tree and that, if worst came to worst, he could find
temporary safety at least in its branches.
By this time he knew that there were more than three of the beasts
and, by the sounds he judged that there must be nearly a dozen. Soon
he caught sight of another gray form and, quickly raising his rifle,
fired his second shot. The wolf fell but, almost before he was
stretched on the snow, from all sides, gray shapes sprang upon him
and in an incredibly short time the dead wolf was torn in pieces and
devoured. A moment later and the first one killed was discovered and
had shared a like fate. And still the ravenous beasts were not
satisfied and in less than ten minutes from the time he had fired the
second shot the pack was gathered in a semi-circle about twenty-five
feet away, snapping and snarling and gradually closing in. He had
not fired again hoping that they would be satisfied with the feast
already provided and go away. But their appetite seemed only to be
whetted and he fired again.
"Here's where little Bobby seeks safer quarters while they're busy,"
he muttered as he swung himself up onto the lowest branch of the
tree. "I imagine Jack and Lucky'll hear the rumpus and come to my
rescue," he thought. "Anyhow I'm safe enough and can pick them off
at my leisure, if they choose to stay around."
The third wolf was quickly dispatched and the pack, about fifteen in
number were soon gathered beneath the tree voicing their
disappointment in mournful howls. Taking careful aim at the largest
beast he pulled the trigger but, to his surprise, only a slight click
resulted. Thinking there might be a defective cartridge in the rifle
he pulled back the ejector. But to his dismay it stuck when half way
back.
"Now I am in a fix," he said half aloud. "Mighty funny the thing had
to stick at just this time especially when it's never done it before."
All this time he had been working feverishly in an effort to remove
the cartridge, but he soon found that, without the aid of a
screwdriver, it could not be done.
Then the thought that he had his automatic came to him and he took
new heart. But his joy was short lived for the revolver was gone.
He couldn't understand it, he told himself over and over again. He
distinctly remembered shoving it into place in his belt just before
starting. Then he remembered that, a short time before he heard the
first wolf, he had tripped and fallen headlong.
"It must have dropped out when I fell," he told himself. "Wouldn't I
have been in a nice fix if there had been no trees anywhere around?"
And he shuddered as he looked down at the hungry beasts only a few
feet beneath him.
He knew that he was safe so far as the wolves were concerned, but the
intense cold was beginning to work through his clothing. Hustling
along on snow-shoes at forty below zero was one thing, but roosting
up in the branches of a tree at the same temperature was quite
another, he told himself. He wondered why Jack and Lucky had not put
in an appearance and then, for the first time he noticed that a
strong wind was blowing and that it was coming from the direction of
the camp.
"Perhaps that wind's so strong that they haven't heard the wolves or
the shots," he thought.
It seemed that his last thought must be correct for a full hour
passed and there was no sign of his friends. He knew it would be of
no use to shout for if they had not heard the wolves and his shots it
was dead certain that they would not hear him. If they had heard
anything to give them the idea that he might be in trouble they would
have had no trouble in following his tracks as they were the only
ones visible. Hence, he reasoned, they had heard nothing. He did
not know whether it was growing colder or not, but he was quite sure
that he was, and, having a firm seat in a crotch, he spent much of
the time beating his body with his arms in an effort to keep out as
much of the cold as possible.
The wolves showed no signs of giving up. To be sure they were no
longer leaping and howling, but had assumed an attitude of what he
called watchful waiting. It was, he knew, only a question of being
able to stand the cold long enough. Jack and Lucky would be after
him when he did not return soon after they would expect him.
Another hour passed and he began, for the first time, to be really
frightened. For a long time he had been shaking with the cold, but
now he did not feel nearly so cold and a peculiar drowsiness was
stealing over him, an almost overwhelming desire to sleep. He knew
what that meant and, with all the force of his will, he fought
against it. For awhile he kept changing his position, but now he
feared to move for fear he would fall. So he wedged himself in a
crotch between the trunk and a large limb in such a way that in case
he lost consciousness his body would be held.
"God grant that they may come in time," was his last conscious
thought and then he drifted off into nothingness.