IN PURSUIT
Instead of going with the constable to Old Meg's house, upon his return
from the hill, Buckskin Dan went into his own cabin. Here he lighted a
candle, and examined carefully his stock of provisions. Finding it much
lower than he had expected he slowly scratched his head in a puzzled
manner.
"Wall, I'll be blowed!" he muttered. "I thought thar was more meat left,
but that last moose j'int is almost gone, an' what's left is about all
bone an' gristle. Guess I'll have to go to the store, though I hate to
do so. Mebbe Bill has some on hand."
He was about to blow out the candle, when he suddenly paused.
"No, guess I'd better leave it fer the lad. He'll be back soon. Let me
see: he'll wonder whar I am. Ah, that's the idee. I'll jist leave a note
to tell 'im I'm at the store. I may be longer than I expect."
Finding a piece of brown paper, and unearthing a stub of a pencil from a
few simple treasures kept in an old box, he painfully scrawled the brief
sentence: "You'll find me at the store. Dan."
Little dreaming that this simple act would bring his partner into such
serious difficulty the worthy trapper closed the cabin door, and walked
rapidly toward the store.
He found Siwash Bill alone in the building, smoking an old blackened
pipe. The squaw man could hardly conceal his pleasure at seeing Dan
alone. He feigned surprise, however, at his early return, and questioned
him as to his luck on the hills.
"Brought nuthin' back," Dan replied. "Not even a sheep. Say have ye any
meat?"
"No," replied the trader. "I'm clean skinned out. Not a scrap left. I've
some in the cache, though, about three miles up-stream."
"Three miles! Good Lord!" groaned the trapper, "an' I want it now."
"Why not wait till the mornin', Dan? Surely yer not so hard up as that?"
"No, I want it to-night. So I'm goin' after it at once. An' look ye, if
me pardner comes here tell 'im I'll be back as soon as I kin. I've left
a note in the cabin to tell 'im I came to the store. I'll settle with ye
fer the meat later."
Dan left the building and walked with a swinging stride along the trail
up-stream. It was well for his peace of mind that he did not see the
form of Windy Pete glide into the store a few minutes later, nor hear
the animated conversation which took place between him and the squaw
man. Had he seen them, and could he have read their thoughts, he would
have bounded back to the cabin with the great leaps of a greyhound.
Well accustomed to the trail he had no difficulty in picking his way
through the darkness. He knew where the cache was located, as he had
passed it time and time again. In less than an hour the place was
reached, and a generous portion of meat obtained. This accomplished, he
set his face homeward. Lifting up his eyes, a bright light on the hill
above the settlement arrested his steps. He paused for a few minutes,
and gazed intently upon the flames which were slowly dying down.
"It's an Injun signal, by jingo!" he exclaimed. "It must be fer the
Hishus. I wonder who it kin be. I must git back to camp an' find out.
Surely the Big Lakes are not upon us. God help us, if they are!"
Reaching the store he found the place silent and in darkness.
"Queer," he muttered. "What's happened to Bill? Mebbe he's heard about
the Big Lakes, an' has taken to the hills. Guess I'll git back to me own
shack and see to me ammunition. Hope to goodness me pardner's thar."
Reaching his cabin he paused for a moment, and watched the fire upon the
hilltop, half expecting at any instant to hear the sound of approaching
Indians. But a cry from a most unexpected quarter fell upon his ears. It
was the wild call for help within the cabin, and at once he recognised
the voice. Puzzled beyond description as to the meaning of it all he
leaped toward the door, gave it a mighty push, and dashed into the room.
The place was in darkness, so he could see nothing. He heard only the
scuttling of feet and felt some moving object touch his shoulder. He
reached out quickly, but clutched nothing save the yielding air. Soon
all was still.
"Laddie, laddie," he called. "What's wrong?"
"I'm here, Dan," came the reply. "But for God's sake get a light."
With trembling hands the old man fumbled in the pocket of his buckskin
jacket, brought forth his rude match case made of two cartridge shells,
found a match and struck it. He lighted the candle upon the table, and
then glanced anxiously about the room. Seeing Grey huddled upon the
floor, he sprang to his side with a peculiar cry, half rage and half
sympathy.
"Are ye hurt, pardner?" he demanded. "Have the wretches knifed ye?"
"No, Dan," came the reply. "I'm all right now, but unloosen these cords,
quick."
With two swift strokes of his hunting knife Dan severed the bonds.
Instantly Grey sprang to his feet, and looked around the cabin. He
reached out his hand, and clutched a rifle leaning against the wall.
"Give me your revolver, Dan, and some cartridges. You stay here; I don't
want you to run any risk."
The trapper, however, maintained his position. He noted the flushed face
of his companion and the wild gleam in his eyes.
"Whar are ye goin'?" he asked. "An' what d'ye want with the guns?"
"Going? I'm going after those devils, who trapped, bound and led me
here to die. But for your timely arrival I would now be a corpse on this
very floor."
Across Dan's face spread an angry cloud. His rough, hard fingers
clinched with a sudden grip.
"Was it Bill an' Pete?" he hoarsely whispered. "Was it them varmints?"
"Yes, that's who it was. But come, I want your revolver. I'll take that
grinning look from their faces quicker than hell."
"Now look here, pardner," Dan remonstrated, "jist cool down a bit. Yer a
little excited, an' don't realise yer persition. Wot's the use of goin'
after them divils now? We've more important work on hand, an' I'm
thinkin' ye've fergotten the lassie. Guess we'd better go after her
fust, an' we kin settle with them skunks later. I admire yer spunk,
young man, but we mustn't run any risk at present. Bill an' Pete are
mighty handy with the gun, an' mebbe thar wouldn't be anyone left to go
after the lassie."
Grey looked hard at Dan for a few minutes without replying. He realised
the force of the words he had just heard. But the red rage of battle was
hot within him, and he found it difficult to wait.
"Besides," coolly continued the trapper, reading truly the struggle his
companion was undergoing, "it's yer duty to keep calm. Ye belong to a
great Force, an' I've never yit heard of a member doin' anything that
was rash, or that would upset his plans. Caution's the word now,
pardner."
"You're right, Dan," and as Grey reached out his hand and gripped that
of the trapper, a sigh escaped his lips. "I'm afraid it would bungle
matters if I went after those villains. I agree to wait."
"Wall said, pardner. I know how ye feel, an' I jist long meself to git
after them snakes. But, come, we must hike away from here. The canoe's
in the stream an' the meat's outside, so we kin slip away through the
darkness. We've wasted too much time already, an' have given them
redskins a big start."
A few minutes later a small trim canoe dropped silently away from the
shore a short distance above the cabin. She darted out into midstream
where the swift current caught her in its irresistible sweep. Neither
Dan nor Norman spoke much as hour after hour they bent to their paddles.
The grey dawn was breaking when at length they ran the canoe ashore, and
prepared their breakfast, principally of moose meat. Then it was up and
on again. Being on the river, protected by the banks and trees, they
escaped the furious storm which was sweeping over the lake miles below.
In the afternoon when they did burst into that fine sheet of water, the
gale had spent its fury, and only the foamy surf upon the shore, where
the long ground swells throbbed and beat, remained to tell of the
tempest that had raged but a few hours before.
Grey, although well accustomed to the scenery of the North, felt his
heart thrill anew at the superb spectacle which now met his gaze. To the
left and right rose massive flinty walls, terrace above terrace,
culminating in numerous grand and fantastic peaks hundreds of feet above
the surface of the lake. Huge gaping crevices scarred their
weather-beaten sides, which every spring belched torrents of icy waters.
The afternoon sun touched the snowy peaks with a dazzling halo, forming
a sharp contrast to the bluest of skies overhead.
"My, what a sight!" Grey ejaculated, as he rested his paddle across his
knees. "I've never seen anything to equal this. Oh, for an artist's
skill to catch such a scene!"
"Ay, ay, it's fine, pardner," Dan replied. "But ye should see it when
thar's a storm on, an' then ye'd witness somethin'. I saw it once to me
sorrow, an' only by a miracle I live to tell the tale. But, laddie,
thar's been a storm here to-day. I see signs of it on yonder shore, an'
I'm thinkin' the lassie's had a hard time of it. I hope to goodness them
redskins made fer shore in time."
Grey looked anxiously into the speaker's face. A new fear seized his
heart. Suppose Madeline and the boy had gone down! How could he endure
it, and would he dare to go back to Big Glen? What would the Major say,
and the Force?
"Look here, Dan," and Grey spoke most impressively, "if we find that an
accident has happened, and Madeline and the boy have gone down, do you
know what I shall do?"
"No; couldn't guess."
"I shall go back to Hishu, and have it out with those devils there.
They may punch me full of holes if they wish, but I don't think they'll
ever do it upon anybody else. It'll be the only thing left for me to do
in the world, and I think it will be a mighty fine service after all."
A grim smile crossed the trapper's rugged face.
"I guess ye won't have to do that yit awhile, pardner," he remarked.
"Them red divils are too cunnin' to take any risk. They know the lake
better than they do their prayers. They were sheltered somewhar ye may
be sure, an' are now hikin' on like blazes; so we must git after 'em.
Thar's a stream some distance ahead which mebbe they reached afore the
storm struck. That's their route, an' we must hustle along."
After two more hours of hard paddling an opening appeared upon their
right, which proved to be the mouth of a small stream, called by the
Indians "Wahsek."
"We'll find the current purty strong," said Dan, as they headed the
canoe for the opening. "Thar's a nasty rapids several miles up, an' I'd
like to reach the foot of it afore we stop. D'ye think ye can stan' it?"
"Stand it, man! Why I could paddle all night. Of what stuff do you think
I am made?"
"Mighty good stuff, if I'm any jedge. Ye've been through enough of late
to knock out a dozen men, an' yit yer as chipper as a whisky-jack. But
say, pardner, this current's too strong fer the paddles, guess we'll
have to pole. I brought two sticks along, fer ye kin never tell what
minute ye may have to use 'em, on these tarnel northern streams. I do
want to reach the rapids afore landin'. Guess then we'll have to pack
the canoe round that rough piece of water."
It was necessary now to keep close to the shore, and with the long poles
they slowly and steadily forced the craft against the current, which
increased in velocity as they advanced.
The sun had disappeared above the tree tops, and night was settling over
the land ere the sound of rushing, swirling waters fell upon their ears.
"It's the rapids, pardner," Dan remarked, as he gave the canoe a
vigorous shove which sent her quivering like a thing of life against her
rushing adversary. "A little ferther, an' we'll be thar."
When at length they ran into an eddy close to shore and disembarked they
could discern through the gloom the white, turbulent waters but a short
distance above. Grey was tired, very tired, and after supper was ended
he threw himself upon the ground by the small camp fire they had
lighted.
"I could sleep for a week," he remarked. "My, this place feels good!"
"No wonder, pardner," was the reply. "Ye haven't had much sleep fer
several nights. So fall to now, fer we must make an early start in the
mornin'."