THE END OF THE TRAIL
For an instant Jack stood as if paralyzed gazing at the hole in the
ice. He was, for the moment, incapable of movement. Then his heart
gave a leap of joy as he beheld Bob’s head emerge from the water.
Higher and higher his head rose until he was standing only up to his
waist in the water.
“Come on in. The water’s fine,” he shouted as he shook the water
from his head.
Jack was still too frightened to laugh and suddenly started out on
the ice toward Bob.
“Go on back,” the latter shouted. “There’s no use in you getting wet
too. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
The ice gave way several times as he tried to climb out on to it,
but at last it held and he was soon on the bank. Fortunately he had
had presence of mind to throw his snow-shoes away from him when the
ice broke and they were on the ice not far from the shore.
“Now you hustle and get into my bag while I get a fire going,” Jack
ordered and Bob, his teeth chattering as with ague, hurried to obey.
As quickly as possible he stripped off the wet clothes and crawled
into the sleeping bag which Jack had ready for him.
“T-t-t-that water is c-c-c-old,” he chattered as he snuggled down in
the bag.
“Well, I guess it has a right to be at this time of year,” Jack
replied as he struck a match and applied it to a handful of birch
bark.
Fortunately there was plenty of dead wood close at hand and in a
very few minutes a roaring fire was crackling. Cutting two stout
sticks Jack stuck them firmly in the snow and stretched a piece of
strong cord between them making a serviceable clothesline. Then he
undid Bob’s pack, which was of course, soaking wet, and, after
wringing out as much of the water as possible, he hung them together
with his clothes on the line.
“There, I guess they’ll dry pretty soon,” he declared as he came
close to Bob, who was lying on the snow as near the fire as he dared
get.
“How are you feel—” he started to ask but before he could finish a
big lump rose in his throat, and, bending over his brother, the boy
burst into tears.
“Why, what’s the matter, old fellow?” Bob asked as he pulled one arm
out of the bag and threw it about his brother’s neck.
“I-I-thought you were d-d-drowned,” the boy sobbed.
“So did I, for a second,” Bob said soberly. “You see, although the
water is only about three feet deep there, when I broke through, I
struck a slippery stone and my feet went out from under me and I
thought I’d never get them under me again. But, thank God, I’m all
right now and as snug as a bug in a rug.”
Jack soon dried his tears and set about arranging camp for the
night, for they knew that, by the time Bob’s clothes were dry, it
would be too late to go any farther that day.
“We’ve made pretty good time at that,” Bob declared. “Thirty-five or
forty miles of this kind of going is a good day’s tramp.”
It was after four o’clock by the time Jack had things all shipshape
for the night, and, soon after, he started to get supper. It was not
so cold as the night before although, as night came on, it was well
below freezing. The heat from the fire had prevented Bob’s clothes
from freezing and by the time the boys were ready to retire for the
night, they were fully dried.
Fortunately Bob suffered no ill effects from his bath, and, as soon
as it was light the next morning, they were again on the trail.
“Let me know when you are tired,” Bob said as they started off. “I’m
going to hit a pretty stiff clip and I think we ought to pretty
nearly get there before the snow gets soft enough for the shoes. It
can’t be more than twenty miles at the most.”
In a little over an hour they reached the upper end of Churchill
Lake and began the ascent of a range of lofty hills. A good part of
the way it was steep and the slippery crust made their footing
insecure.
“It’s a good thing that we haven’t got the toboggan to pull up
here,” Jack panted as they stopped for a breathing spell about half
way to the top.
“You said a lot then,” Bob agreed. “It’s hard work enough pulling
ourselves up here. When we get to the top I’m going to climb a tree.
It seems to me that we ought to be able to see the lake from there,
that is if there aren’t any more hills in the way. My, but this is a
pretty wild country all right.
“Wild is right,” Jack agreed. “You’d think there was enough timber
right here in Maine to supply the world for the next hundred years.
“You’d think so but I guess they’re cutting it off a good bit faster
than it grows.” Bob said as he started off again.
It took them the better part of an hour to reach the top of the
range and both were breathing hard when, with a sigh of relief, Bob
threw his pack to the ground and sank down upon it.
“Wait till I get my breath back and I’ll get up that tall spruce and
see what I can see,” he said.
Jack quickly followed his example and for some moments neither boy
spoke. But Bob soon got his wind back and, getting up, announced
that he was ready for the climb.
“Guess I might as well go along,” Jack declared as he swung himself
into the lower branches, followed by Bob.
It was a beautiful vision which unfolded itself to them as they
paused well up toward the top of the lofty spruce and peered out
between the branches. No less than a half dozen lakes, some large
and others small, could be seen, all but one free of ice. Over
toward the northwest the waters of a large river sparkled like
silver as the rays of the morning sun struck it.
“That’s the St. Lawrence,” Bob pointing with his hand.
“And which is Musquacook Lake?” Jack asked. “That’s the main
question just now.”
Bob pulled the map from his pocket, and getting a firm seat on a big
limb began to study it. Jack was on a limb just above him from which
he could easily see the map.
“Here we are,” Bob declared. “You see those two lakes down there
only a few miles apart. Well according to this map that one to the
left is Long Lake and the other must be Musquacook.”
“It doesn’t look more than a couple of miles from here,” Jack
declared as Bob folded the map and replaced it in his pocket.
“I’ll bet it’s nearer ten though,” he said as he started downward.
“You know in this clear air a thing always looks a good bit nearer
than it really is,” he explained as he dropped to the ground. “But
we’ll make it in a couple of hours if nothing happens. We can make
good time going down hill.” Bob was pretty nearly right in his
estimate both as to distance and time, for exactly two hours later
they reached the foot of the lake, which they felt sure was their
destination.
“Just ten o’clock,” Bob announced as he glanced at his watch.
“And what’s next on the program?” Jack asked.
“Well, there must be some kind of a cabin here somewhere and I
suppose the next thing is to find it. We may have to go clear round
the lake before we come to it but I sure hope not.”
“All right. Which way’ll we go?”
“Since Rex came in from Presque Isle he’d strike the lake to our
right and I guess that way’ll be our best bet,” Bob argued.
By this time the snow had begun to soften and they had gone but a
short distance when they were obliged to resort to the snow-shoes.
They had trudged along for a matter of four or five miles, keeping
as close to the lake as possible, when Bob, who was leading the way,
suddenly came to a stop and held up his hand as a signal to keep
quiet.
“There’s a cabin just ahead of us,” he whispered. “And there’s smoke
coming out of the chimney. I guess that’s pretty good evidence that
there’s somebody there. Now the question is whether or not it’s
Rex.”
“How are we going to find out?” Jack whispered.
“Well, the way I figure it we’ve got to be mighty careful, because
the chances are that if Rex is there, he’s being kept against his
will, and a man that would do that is sure to be a pretty desperate
character. I guess the best thing we can do is to just wait here and
watch awhile and see if anything happens that’ll put us wise.”
From where they stood they had a fair view of one end of the cabin
but it is doubtful if anyone could have seen them from the house so
dense were the branches of a number of trees which stood close to
the cabin.
For nearly half an hour they waited and then the smoke, coming from
the chimney, all at once increased in volume, evidence that fresh
wood had been placed on the fire. A moment later they heard a door
slam and, peering between the branches, they saw a man come to the
end of the porch and, for a moment stand there as he knocked the
ashes from his pipe. He was a large man, well over six feet and
broad shouldered in proportion. A thick black stubble nearly covered
his face, but they could plainly see a pair of piercing eyes beneath
shaggy brows.
“Looks interesting, doesn’t he?” Jack whispered.
The man soon went back into the cabin but came out again almost
immediately and the boys soon caught sight of him disappearing in
the thick woods in front of the cabin. He was on snow-shoes and they
could see that he carried a rifle. After he had had time to get some
distance from the cabin Bob said:
“Now’s our chance.”
“But suppose he comes back?”
“That’s a risk we’ve got to take, but seeing that he had his rifle
with him, I imagine that he’s gone some distance. He wouldn’t have
taken it if he was coming right back.”
“Still he might,” Jack insisted. “And he’s a pretty tough looking
customer, I’ll say.”
For a moment Bob hesitated.
“Well,” he said finally. “You may be right. Anyhow it’s a lot better
to be careful than to be sorry, so I’ll tell you how we’ll work it.
No doubt there’s a back door to the shack. Now I’ll try to get in
while you stay here and watch. If you see him coming just give your
imitation of a wild cat. You can do it well enough to fool anyone,
and if I hear it I’ll slip out the back way and come around here.
He’ll have to take off his snow-shoes before he can come in and that
will give me plenty of time to make a get away.”
This plan seemed good to Jack and he readily agreed to it.
Bob removed his snow-shoes and was about to start when a sudden
thought struck him.
“Great guns, Jack, I forgot all about the tracks,” he said.
“Well, what do you know about that?” and for a moment Jack’s face
looked the picture of despair.
“He’d spot them the minute he came back and then it’d be all up,”
Bob declared.
“And he’ll probably be back long before it freezes tonight,” Jack
lamented.
For a moment both boys were silent each trying to find some solution
to the problem.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” Bob finally proposed. “I’ll make a
detour round back and mebby I can find a way to get up to the house
without leaving any tracks. He may have a path out the other side or
at the back. If I’m not back in about ten minutes you will know that
I’ve found a way.”
Jack could think of no better plan so he agreed and Bob started.
Jack leaned against a tree and waited. Slowly the minutes passed.
“I guess he found a way,” he thought as his watch told him that the
ten minutes were up.
Meanwhile Bob, making a wide detour approached the cabin from the
back as, contrary to the usual custom, it faced away from the lake.
As he had hoped, a well beaten path led down to the lake.
“This is luck,” he thought as he slipped off his snow-shoes and
stood them against a big pine.
Quickly he ran up the path and, as he had thought, found that there
was a back door. It was not locked and without hesitation he opened
it and stepped inside. The cabin was not a large one and had but one
room, which was living room, dining room and kitchen all combined.
For a moment, as he stood still and listened, a feeling of intense
disappointment swept over him, the room was empty of anyone so far
as he could see.
Had they had their long trip all for nothing?
But just then he heard a slight sound which seemed to come from a
bunk which stood on the opposite side of the room.
“You didn’t make a very long trip.”
It was Rex’s voice, and his heart gave a leap as he ran to the side
of the bunk.
“Rex.”
“Who are you? It can’t be, but by jove it is, Bob Golden.”
“Sure is,” Bob said.
“But, how in the world, did—,” Rex began, but Bob interrupted him.
“We came to find you. Jack’s outside watching.”
Then, he saw that Rex was tied hand and foot to the bunk.
“When did you get here?” Rex asked.
“It was nearly an hour ago, I guess. We watched till we saw somebody
leave the cabin and then I went round back and found the path and,
and here I am,” and Bob, having taken his knife from his pocket
while he was talking, started to cut the rope with which Rex was
bound.
“Hold on a minute,” the latter cautioned him before he had time to
use the knife. “I don’t think you’d better do that, not now. If
Parry, he’s the half-breed you saw, should come back and find you
here there’d be the deuce to pay. He probably won’t be back for an
hour or more but you can never tell.”
“But what does it mean?” Bob asked putting his knife back in his
pocket.
“It means that I was a fool to trust the fellow, I suppose. But I’ll
tell you all about it and then you can judge for yourself. I came up
here to fish as I suppose you know. I’ve never been here before and
had a guide engaged who had been recommended by a friend of mine who
has been here a number of times. Well, when I got to Presque Isle I
found that the fellow had been taken suddenly sick and, being in a
hurry as my time was limited, I took the first fellow I could get.
We got here just the day before the ice went out and then for two
days we had some of the best fishing you ever saw. Parry was very
kind and seemed all right and I congratulated myself on getting so
fine a guide.
“But that night I noticed a change in his manner. He seemed nervous
and a trifle irritable. We had made all preparations to start back
the next morning and you can imagine my surprise when he demanded
ten thousand dollars as the price of taking me back. I argued and
threatened all to no purpose. Here I was and here I was going to
stay till I came across. Can you beat it? Of course, I told him that
I didn’t have the money and so couldn’t give it to him, but he said
that I could write for it. Then I tried to show him how easy it
would be for me to have him arrested after we got back, but that
didn’t work. He said he was going to hit the trail for some place
way up in Canada, and I’d never be able to get him. It was mighty
important for me to be home several days ago but I just wouldn’t
give in. You know I’ve got a pretty well developed stubborn streak
in me and I do hate to be made do a thing like that.
“But haven’t you tried to get away?” Bob asked.
Rex grinned.
“If you knew Parry as well as I do you wouldn’t need to ask that
question. I’m fairly good at a rough and tumble and know something
about boxing. I tried once to mix it up with him and I stood about
as much show as an icicle would in—well, in a furnace. Honestly,
he’s positively the strongest man I ever saw. He didn’t beat me up.
Just held me with one hand and laughed. Oh, I got in a few good
punches which had about as much effect as so many rain drops.”
“He must be good if he did that,” Bob declared.
“Good is right. You see that big poker there by the fireplace. Well,
I saw him bend that till the ends touched with just his hands and
then he straightened it out just as easily, and I couldn’t bend it a
bit even over my knee. Believe me, if that fellow should ever get a
chance at Dempsey, we’d have a new champ in less’n three rounds.”
“But does he keep you tied up all the time?” Bob asked.
“Oh no. Only at night and when he goes out, and then, believe me, he
makes a good job of it.”
“So I see,” Bob agreed as he examined the rope. “But what are we
going to do, Rex? There’s got to be some way.”
“Well,” Rex began slowly, “I’ve been thinking ever since you came
in. A rough and tumble is out of the question. I know you’re good
with your fists and all that, but against Parry Magloire the three
of us would be like so many children, and I would hate like blazes
to shoot him or anything of that sort. You see, in a way, I admire
the man and so would you if you knew him.”
“That’s all right, but—,” Bob began when Rex interrupted.
“We’ve got to think fast, Bob. Now I’ve got a sort of a plan. Parry,
like most breeds, is very superstitious. There’s an old story, which
has been handed down in his family for generations about a giant
wolf which has killed the eldest son of each era. He was telling me
all about it the other night. He has never seen the wolf, but he
said that he had heard it more than once. Of course, it’s all bosh
but he believes it and, the point is he’s the eldest son of his
father. He said that, for a good many years back, the eldest son of
each family had disappeared and there was no doubt, in his mind, but
that the wolf had gotten him.”
“I rather think that he wants that money so that he can go away off
somewhere where he thinks he’ll be safe. I guess it’s the only thing
in the world that he’s afraid of but that wolf certainly has got him
bluffed all right.”
“And you think we might scare him away?” Bob asked as the other
paused.
“That’s the idea,” Rex said. “And it’s the only plan I can think
of.”
“Well we can try,” Bob began, but just then the shrill cry of a wild
cat rang out.
“That’s Jack telling me that the breed’s coming back. I must hustle,
but keep a stiff upper lip. We won’t be far away,” and Bob hurried
out the back way.
He ran down the path quickly and, finding his snow-shoes where he
had left them, he was soon back with his brother.
“We’d better get back a mile or so,” he said as he picked up his
pack and slung it on his back. “I’ll tell you all about it as soon
as we get to a safe place.”
About a mile back, over the way they had come, they found a good
place for a camp, in a dense growth of pines, and decided to make it
their headquarters. Quickly Bob told how he had found their friend
and his plan of action.
“But we’ve got to act quickly, old man, because that chap is apt to
find our tracks at any time and if he does—goodnight.”
“But do you think we can get away with it?” Jack asked anxiously.
“That remains to be seen, but we’ll do our best.”
They ate a cold lunch, not daring to build a fire lest the smoke
betray them. Lunch finished they got into their sleeping bags, for
the sky had clouded over and it was cold and damp. All through the
long afternoon they discussed plans until, just as dusk was
beginning to fall, they agreed upon a course of action.
“It may work and it may not, but it’s the best in the shop,” Bob
declared as he looked up at the sky. “It’s going to rain or snow
before the night’s over,” he predicted.
Bob had hardly left the cabin when the front door swung open and the
giant half-breed entered.
“We have rabbit stew for dinner, oui,” he said as he came to the
side of the bunk and held up, for Rex’s inspection, a large rabbit.
“That’ll be fine,” Rex declared. “I’m a bit fed up on trout. But
untie the ropes, will you?”
“Oui, I do dat, in one leetle minute,” the breed said as he placed
the rabbit on the table.
“There, that feels better,” Rex declared a moment later as he got
out of the bunk and stretched himself. “Some day I’m going to get
the jump on you, Parry, and then you want to look out.”
“Bet’ not try heem. Wid deese hands I could bust you, oui,” and he
held out two hands which, in Rex’s mind, fully justified his boast.
“I tink mebby, you send for dat money today, oui?” the breed asked
as he began to skin the rabbit.
“Not today or any other day,” Rex declared emphatically. “As I’ve
told you a dozen times, Parry, you’re just wasting your time here.
I’d die before I’d give in to you. That’s the kind of a fellow I am
and the sooner you understand it the better.”
“We see,” Parry grinned. “Mebby you change mind pretty quick,” and a
fierce look appeared, for a moment, in his eyes.
During all the time that Rex had been held prisoner, his captor
never allowed him to get behind him and Rex had given up the idea of
taking him unaware.
Parry was an excellent cook and Rex thoroughly enjoyed the rabbit
stew.
“Tell me, Parry,” Rex asked when they had finished eating. “What
kind of a noise does that wolf of yours make? Is it like the howl of
an ordinary wolf?”
Instantly into the eyes of the breed sprang a frightened expression.
Rex had greatly regretted that he had not time to plan with Bob, but
he knew the boy and did not doubt but that, before the night was
over, something would happen. So he had resolved to keep Parry
wrought up to the highest pitch possible.
“Oui,” he replied slowly. “Eet sound lik’ a wolf but much beeger
sound. Eet is ter’ble. Sometime heem geet me,” and the man made the
sign of the cross on his breast.
“When did you hear it last?” Rex asked.
“’Bout five-six month ago.”
“Where was it?”
“Right here, Eet sound lak’ eet down by lake.”
“And what did you do?”
“I leave here queek. Go back Presque Isle ver’ queek.”
“But, Parry, don’t you have some sort of a charm that will protect
you?” Rex asked, determined to keep him on the subject as long as
possible.
“Non,” he replied, shaking his head. “Dere is no charm can keep dat
sort of wolf away. Heem ’fraid nottin’, non.”
“And you really think that he’ll get you sometime?”
“Oui, heem geet me pret’ soon. I older now dan der others. My time
come soon oui.”
“But why hasn’t some one shot him? Did anyone ever try it?” Rex
asked.
“Oui. My uncle, heem try eet once. Heem see heem and geet good sight
on heem, but bullet go right troo heem, no hurt. Bullet no bon wid
dat wolf, non, non,” and the man shook his head sadly.
During the afternoon and early evening, Rex, from time to time,
harked back to the subject of the spectral wolf, and, by the time
dusk had fallen he was pleased to note that the breed was in a
highly nervous condition. After supper was finished, he fell to
pacing back and forth across the room, and seemed constantly to be
listening.
“What’s the matter with you, Parry? You make me nervous,” Rex asked
after the breed had been pacing up and down for the better part of
an hour.
“I tink I hear sometin’ leetle while ago.”
“What did it sound like?” Rex asked, “I thought I heard a howl off
in that direction,” and he pointed toward the west.
“Oui. Dat what I hear,” the breed said as he stopped and listened
intently.
But no sound save the gentle rustling of the spruce boughs as they
swayed in the wind and the patter of rain drops on the window panes,
came to their ears.
“Well, I guess I’ll hit the hay,” Rex declared a little later.
It was a long time before the breed followed his example and lying
in his bunk, Rex could see him pacing back and forth. But finally he
put out the light and tumbled into his bunk, which was on the
opposite side of the room. As usual Rex was tied securely in his
bunk. He had resolved not to sleep as he was certain that the boys
would make an attempt to rescue him before morning. Slowly the
minutes passed and soon he knew, by the sound of heavy breathing,
that Parry had fallen asleep.