CHAPTER XVII
Hurley's Conspiracy is Unfolded
Nowhere else in the vast territories of the Dominion of Canada could Joe and his two comrades have come upon a spot more suited to their purpose than was the tiny island which cropped out almost in the centre of the frozen and snow-covered surface of the vast lake they had encountered during their prospecting tour in New Ontario.
"It aer a fair treat," observed Hank, rubbing his half-frozen hands together, with a gusto there was no mistaking. "I allow that when we made back to our camp this afternoon things was looking uncommonly black, and ef we had found that all our traps had been taken or burned by them half-breeds, why, in course we should ha' been up a gum tree, as Australians is fond of saying. How do I know they're fond o' sayin' that, young feller?" he asked, with an appearance of severity he was far from feeling; for Joe had laughingly asked the question. "Jest fer this reason: there's Australians comes to Canada—not 'cos they don't like their own country, for I never heard of one as didn't swear by Australia; but, you see, things don't move quite as fast out there as they do here. This Dominion aer the place for settlers above all others for two good reasons. First, and it's a big 'un—the distance from the old country is so short, which makes the passage easy and cheap; and second, this here Government aer on the move all the time, more even than that over in Australia. Yer see, they've got the masses pouring in, and huge preparations has to be made. But we was talking of this island."
"Yes," agreed Joe, who long since had made a tour of the place. Not that that was a journey of vast extent or of difficulty, for the little heap of rock which cropped from the bed of the lake in such picturesque fashion was barely big enough to house three dozen men. That number would be uncomfortably squeezed together, as a matter of fact, and some would be pressed from the edge. Then, again, its outer edge was raised for all the world like the rim of a saucer, while the centre was depressed into a number of irregular hollows. "A fine place," admitted Joe warmly. "Shouldn't wonder if in summertime there is fresh water in these hollows. In any case, though, that wouldn't matter, for there is abundance of water in the lake. Seems to me we shall be able to make a fort here that will bother those people."
"What'd you do?" asked Hank, eager to discover the plans that Joe might have made. "Here you are with a couple of young fellers, me and Beaver Jack, to look after, and it aer up to you to protect us and lead us. What'll you do? No laughing matter, young feller—I'm serious."
It was hard to believe that, for never did hunter wear a more jovial expression. To be precise, that exhilarating flight from before the enemy, the discovery of their camp equipment undamaged, and then the gaining of this unique position had lifted the spirits of all three of the party wonderfully.
"It aer a regular nest, this aer," grinned Hank. "Wall? What do you make of it? Them critters is away over there talking things over, you kin guess. Havin' a bit of a pow-wow, as the sayin' is. They've seed us come away here, in course, for even now that the dusk are falling you kin follow the track we've left across the snow. It aer up to you, Joe, to fix a plan that'll save the lives of your two comrades."
There was a twinkle in the little man's eyes, and, looking at him, one would have said that he didn't care the toss of a button for the enemy, though, like a sensible and cautious man, he would neglect nothing which would give him an advantage over them.
"I'd raise this edge all round, first of all," said Joe, "and I'd make dummies to draw their bullets. We ourselves don't want to be perched high up, unless during the night, for when it's daytime one can see across the bare surface outside for a great distance; then I'd make openings close to the rock through which we could fire. It seems to me that by doing so we shall bother them, and make it difficult for them to pick us off as they advance."
"And how'd you raise the edge?" asked Hank, with interest. "Pile up snow? That takes time."
"I'd cut bricks of snow," was Joe's answer; "then, when they were built into position, I'd break the ice, if that's possible, and throw water on the outside face of the wall we've constructed. Talk about armour-plate on a ship! That'll convert our fort into a regular dreadnought."
Hank turned on an expansive grin for our hero's special edification, while even the austere Redskin smiled. "And these here snow bricks," said Hank, "you'd take 'em from where?"
"Just outside the island. That would leave a kind of trench all round, and so give the enemy a greater height to climb, supposing they got to close quarters."
"Which aer likely enough, seeing as they're so many, and kin scatter so as to make shooting extry difficult. Shucks, lad! Guess you've put the case nicely. To make good out here we've got to have protection more than rifles kin give us. We'll build that wall; seems to me it aer the first thing that's wanted."
Perhaps half an hour or more had passed since they reached the spot where they were now awaiting the enemy, and during that time the busy Indian had constructed a comfortable lean-to, while, as has been narrated, Joe had built a fire and boiled the kettle. There being no sign yet of the half-breeds, the whole party sat down about the fire to discuss Joe's suggestions, while that young fellow himself delved in one of the bags they always carried with them, brought to light a chunk of frozen meat which, in that condition, would have required a good-sized axe to cut, and placed it over the flames. Ten minutes later, when the frost was driven from it, he cut a number of slices, thrust his cleaning rod through them, and poised the rod upon a couple of forked sticks above the fire. As for the remainder of the piece of flesh, it was quickly frozen solid; for by this time the moon was up and the cold was intense.
"It aer nice to have a fire, and a hollow to sit in," admitted Hank, who, as a rule, seemed to be absolutely unaffected by extremes of temperature. Joe had, in fact, seen the little man cool and collected, and not inconvenienced in the slightest, even when working on the hottest day, with a swarm of mosquitoes about him; while the icy breath of this winter had passed unnoticed. "We aer in fer a cold time," said the little hunter, staring into the embers, "and seems to me that that 'ere wall aer wanted fer another reason besides fer keeping them skunks out. It'll make us as warm inside here as ef we was tucked in our blankets on the cosiest feather bed you ever thought of."
"While these men outside will freeze," added Joe.
"Not they!" came the instant answer. "Them critters is used to life up here. Wouldn't wonder ef they was 'way up by James Bay most winter times, and there the cold aer wuss perhaps. They've enlarged our shelter already, and likely as not they've built a fire right inside. As soon as they've had a meal they'll turn right in, and the dogs along with 'em. That'll send up the warmth and keep an Arctic cold out. But it's ten chances to one as they'll try to rush us before the morning. Now ef them steaks is done we'll tackle them, and then get to at building."
There was a delightful odour of cooking about the little island, the overhanging branches of the evergreen pines seeming to hem it in. Joe's mouth was watering before he declared that the meal was ready, and then, having handed a slice to each of his friends, together with a species of damper cake made from flour and water toasted on the embers, he fell upon the food himself with a gusto that told how fear had no place with him. A pipe completed Hank's contentment, then, the moon being now full up, and the enemy out of sight, the trio set to work to erect the walls of their fortification. With their long-bladed knives they cut oblong chunks of frozen snow with the same ease as one would cut butter, and then, leaving Joe alone to do the building, sent block after block of the material sliding to the position he had taken.
"We'll get along quicker like that," said Hank. "It don't take more'n a couple of seconds to lift a block into place, while it takes five perhaps to cut one. So ef one builds, t'others'll be able to keep him supplied."
It was really remarkable how rapidly the wall rose. In an hour there was a complete circle all round the rim of the island, which, being naturally raised, gave greater height to the artificial wall. The second row of blocks was soon added, Joe leaving spaces here and there through which a rifle could be fired. The third and fourth and others swiftly followed, and when four hours had gone the task was completed. Then Hank attacked the ice with an axe which he always carried, and, having cut through a foot and more, came upon water. A tin pot constantly replenished supplied a means whereby the outer face of the wall was drenched, and so fierce was the cold that the liquid congealed almost as soon as it had fallen on the surface at which it was projected.
"We kin make our dummies any time now," said Hank. "Two of 'em'll be enough, and the one who's going to take the first watch'll find they will help to pass the time in making. It's nigh midnight now; I'll take a spell. Joe'll relieve when three hours have gone, and Beaver Jack later. Let's get to and make the most of the time before us."
In a short time silence fell upon this little isolated camp. Down in the depths of the lowest hollow, huddled in their blankets, and as warm as toast, lay Joe and the Redskin, packed close together; for an Arctic winter needs to be treated with consideration. No warmth that can be retained can be allowed to escape, and as two bodies huddled close together generate a temperature which is greater than that generated by one, it follows that campers sleep pressed close together. We have seen the plan put into operation elsewhere. On the high veldt in South Africa, when nightly frosts are keen, and when tents and proper covering are not obtainable, your campaigners soon lose all feelings of foolish pride. Officers divide into couples and bed down beneath the combined allowance of blankets, while we have seen as many as four of the rank and file snug beneath their covering, snoring blissfully, grateful for the warmth of their comrades.
Perched above this tranquil camp, his keen eyes surveying the surroundings with as much ease as a watchman can keep guard from a tower built for that special purpose, Hank looked out across the surface of the lake to the shore where the enemy was lying. His pipe was clenched between his teeth, his hands sunk deep into his pockets, while he himself was immovable. But every now and again the glow in the bowl of his pipe brightened, showing that he was drawing on the weed, while a puff of smoke issued from his lips.
"The critters!" was a favourite exclamation with him; "Them skunks!" another; "Ef I only knew what they was after," an oft-repeated sentence.
"Yer see," Hank was saying to himself, "there don't seem to be any reason in all this business; but there's something behind it all that we can't even guess at. Somehow I can't help thinkin' that this here Joe ha' an importance in the matter."
What would the little hunter have given to be able to peer into the camp of the enemy at that particular moment? He could see the glare of a huge fire, and could imagine men and dogs sleeping together under a shelter. But Hank was an exceedingly practical fellow, not one gifted with an unusual stock of imagination. He could not, therefore, guess that the number of the enemy was divided, that there was one who was a leader. And yet that was the case. Half-breeds formed the backbone of the party—half-breeds of the lowest character, idle vagabonds to be found round and about the forts in the north of Canada. Not, let us say at once, that all half-breeds are idle and worthless; by no means is that the case. There are, of course, black sheep in every flock, and here a number were gathered together, and at that moment huddled fast asleep in the shelter of the lean-to which Joe and his friends had erected. Some ten paces away a second shelter had been constructed, of rather ample proportions, while a fire blazed at the entrance, warming the interior. One side of this structure was filled by a sleigh, which had been put there for a special purpose, the blankets lying upon it showing that it was meant to serve as a couch. On this same sleigh sat a man, a bulky fellow, muffled in furs, bearded, and almost unrecognizable because of the skin cap drawn down over his ears. He leaned over a wooden box which did duty for a table, and at the precise moment when Hank was pulling at his pipe and wondering who these enemies might be, the leader of the band of rascals had his thoughts attracted to one at least of Hank's little party. A long envelope lay beside him, while a document was spread out on the improvised table. As for illumination, some was supplied by the fire, some by the clear moon overhead, and most by a torch of birch bark, the resinous material in which caused it to splutter and burn brilliantly.
Let us take a look at this individual and, lifting his cap, endeavour to recognize him. But time brings changes in all directions, and puts its stamp on the majority of faces. Anxiety may hasten this inevitable change, while ill health, worry, an ill-conditioned mind, grasping and avarice are all capable of imprinting their own particular marks on the features. In the case of the individual in question, a brutal mind was displayed by a face that had never been handsome, and was now heavily seamed and lined, boasting overhung brows, and a mouth which was set in something approaching a permanent snarl. It was a face which had changed vastly in the past few months. For this was Hurley, this was the criminal who had so nearly killed our hero after committing murder, and who had made his escape into the forest, bearing Joe's riches and that all-important envelope with him. We have learned how the man was captured, and how he made good his escape again. We recollect that Joe had recovered his dollars, but that the envelope was still missing. Missing? No. It was there on that improvised table. Right away in the wilds of Canada, in the depths of an Arctic winter, it had come to view again, though now the seal was broken.
"To my son, Joe Bradley," the ruffian leaning over the box read aloud, as if he had an audience, picking up the envelope and holding it closer. "The contents of this letter will explain to you many things which I have never cared to refer to; but I beg of you never to open it till you are in direst need or have earned the right to do so. Make your way in the world, gather riches—then you can open and read."
Hurley sneered at the words. He threw the envelope down with a gesture of impatience. "Of course the fool obeyed," he growled; "waited till he'd come out to Canada—in fact, till it was too late. And think what he was losing. It makes me fair chuckle. There was a home ready-made for him in England; there was gold to fill his pockets and keep 'em filled; and there was servants all round about, so that he needn't have done a hand's turn. Instead the young fool comes out to Canada and slaves on a farm. Well, some people are born idiots!"
Evidently with the reassuring reflection that he, Hurley, was no fool, the rascal turned to the contemplation of the document. He spread it out smoothly, leaned his elbows on either side, and perhaps for the hundredth time read the story enclosed, a tale, let it be remembered, meant only for the eyes of our hero; for therein set down, by the hand of a man now dead, was a history of importance. Hurley gloated over the contents of this document, weighing every word within it; then he sat back on the sleigh and gave himself up to dreaming. His savage, careworn face took on something approaching a pleasant expression, for Hurley's were pleasant dreams. In them he imagined himself entirely successful. He built castles for himself in the frosty air of the lean-to, forgetful that the best of schemes here and there come to a sudden and disappointing ending.
"It can be done," he said aloud; "there is nothing to prevent me, for I have considered the plan from every side. I kill the boy; that is the first move. I take copies of the certificate of death when I leave the country, and when I reach Great Britain I am Bradley—Mr. Bradley, senior. Ha!"
A grin of triumph overspread his features, while he pushed his cap back as if the very thought of success made him hot. Looking at Hurley at that moment, one realized that he was one of Canada's bad bargains and an unscrupulous ruffian. As for the tale which he had gathered from the document which had been stolen from our hero, we will not set it down in full, as had been done by Joe's father. Suffice it to say that the narrative was somewhat unusual. It carried the history of two lives back some fifty years, and told of the birth of Joe's father. Son of a man of wealth, his mother had died soon after his appearance. Then a stepmother had appeared upon the scene, while in due time he was presented with a stepbrother. At that point the tale took on some particular interest, for by the machinations of his stepmother, Joe's father had at an early age found himself almost penniless. To be precise, when six years of age he was banished from the establishment and sent to live with a schoolmaster at the other end of the country. Never once did he return home. Sums for his maintenance were forthcoming, while he drifted unhappily from school to school. He then found himself placed in an office, and hardly was he self-supporting when all allowances ceased. In place he gathered the fact that his stepbrother was now of age and had succeeded to his father's property.
"Succeeded to every penny of it," declared Hurley aloud, "and this here natural son done out of it. But he got to learn that he was the next in succession. He's too hurt with all this kind of treatment, and too proud to go back to the home. He loses himself in some provincial town, and don't say anything. But the chap who gets all the goods don't marry. This Bradley knows that well. Then what does he do? Writes this here, and sends every proof he's got of his own birth and suchlike to solicitors in London. He don't see 'em hisself. Not a bit. He sends the documents, and encloses the receipt which was sent for them in this letter. This here matter can be worked as easy as eating."
The reasoning of this rascal could be followed now with some ease, while it is merely necessary to mention one more item in Mr. Bradley's letter to our hero. He related that his stepbrother, realizing the injustice done to the elder son, had, as the years passed, made efforts to discover him. He had advertised, and put the matter in the hands of searchers.
"In fact, he aer anxious for this here Bradley to turn up, and it aer clear from the letter that when he does, or his son, there's money and a comfortable living. An heir's wanted, that's truth, and seein' as I'm too old to act the son, and am only a trifle younger than this here Mr. Bradley would ha' been, why, here's the heir. Hurley'll fill the bill as well as any other."
There was the diabolical plot in its entirety. That document just went to show that Joe's father was a man possessed of a proud spirit and of good ideas, for he laid it down on the outside of the envelope that he wished his son to earn his place in the world before he opened and read the contents. He would rather see Joe fighting his own battles than coddling in luxury and spending the money of an uncle. He preached independence and energy, and our hero had shown it. It was the fortune of war, perhaps, that the document had come into the hands of such a scoundrel, and, reviewing it and all the circumstances together, one now saw the reason for this extraordinary and unprovoked assault upon the little party. Hurley had gathered means by some dishonest method; he had traced Joe's movements; and now he had rounded him up, and with the rascals he had hired had him almost within the net.
"To-morrow or next day, don't matter which," he told himself; "but kill him I will, then away for England."
For Hurley it was a fascinating conspiracy; for Joe, had he known the ins and outs of the story, it was likely to prove more than disconcerting. But forewarned is forearmed, and there is this to be said for our hero. The first shots had missed him. He was now behind cover, while two of the stanchest friends were there to protect him.
"P'raps them critters will have had enough already and will sheer off," said Hank, still sitting motionless on the top of the snow wall when the watch he had been keeping came to its end. "Ef not, then it proves as there's something deep behind all this here business. Hi, Joe! It aer your turn now, and jest you keep movin'. It's all right fer me as is an old hand at the game to sit tight and look about me. Young chaps feels the cold wuss and soon gets sleepy. Move all the time, and take a fill of 'bacca."
It was a habit into which Joe had fallen, and with very good reason, too, seeing the open-air life he was leading and the companions he associated with; for your Canadian backwoodsman loves his smoke. A short clay dangles from his teeth on most occasions. Joe therefore roused himself swiftly from his blanket; and here again was something more which camping had taught him, namely, to be a light sleeper. Hank might be said to sleep always with one eye open, for he heard the slightest movement. Beaver Jack might often enough appear to be sunk in the deepest slumber, and yet, if one happened to peer into his face, one discovered that both of those deep-sunk brilliant orbs were actually twinkling. Our hero, too, would sit up with a jerk on the smallest occasion, so that Hank's call had brought him to his feet promptly. And now he watched the little man shake himself like a dog and toss a blanket about him. Then Joe crammed weed into his pipe thoughtfully, lifted a glowing ash from the fire, and puffed long flames into the bowl. With a trail of smoke about his head, he began to march the round of this strange fortification.
"Hard as a brick," he told himself, running his hand along the outside of the snowy wall. "Wouldn't turn a bullet, perhaps, but almost, I reckon. Ah! there's the fire the enemy are burning. Jolly cheek they've got to make use of our old camp! Wonder what they're up to? Planning an attack for the early hours of the morning, if I ain't mistaken."
Joe tramped round and round, halting every few minutes to stare about him, a comprehensive look, in fact, which took in his entire surroundings. From his perch on the wall he could appreciate the commanding situation. The countryside seemed to be cut off by that wide-spreading smooth surface, with its soft covering of white snow, unbroken in all directions save for the track which he and his friends had made in gaining the island. The edge of the lake, where the bank rose from the frozen water, was now so merged with the vast sheet of ice itself, that even from the island, the best point of vantage for observation, one could not say where ice ended and solid earth began. Over all the wintry moon threw its own particular magnificence, bathing the scene in brilliant rays which accentuated the pure whiteness of everything.
"Ripping!" Joe exclaimed. "Just fancy if we had such scenes in England! And people grumble at a Canadian winter. I dare say there are lots of reasons for wishing the weather were milder, for a winter such as this is stops a heap of work. You can't sow or plough or harrow. You can't build even a simple shack such as is wanted on the farms. You can't ride a horse, as a general rule, while there isn't feed for cattle. But it's glorious for all that. Give me a bright, sunny winter's day in the Dominion."
"You aer sure as there ain't no movement?" asked Hank, suddenly sitting up. "Seemed to me as ef I heard a sound."
"A dog yelped yonder," answered Joe, who was alert and taking notice of everything.
"A dog?"
"Yes; there's the sound again. I think, too, that it was a different animal."
"Then it aer a case of all hands on deck," whispered the little trapper, become suddenly cautious. "Ef dogs is barking, it stands to reason that they has been disturbed. As a general rule, they'll sleep a night like this through without moving; so, young feller, you kin look to see them critters afore very long. I'll rouse Beaver Jack and then get a kettle o' tea boiling. What's the hour, lad?"
"Five o'clock or thereabouts. Ah! there's another dog, and——"
"You kin see them skunks?" asked the little hunter.
"No—yes! Two sleighs have just shot out from behind the trees where we were camping last night, but I can't make out how many men are aboard them.'
"Wall? Aer they heading straight along here?" came the request in a few moments, while Hank stirred the fire, and, thrusting handfuls of snow into the wide-mouthed kettle, put the latter upon its hook above the flames.
"No; they've run on to the lake surface, and are making a tour round. It appears to me as if they were hunting for an opening."
There came a gurgle of amusement from the little hunter. He presented a grinning face to our hero, and then climbed up beside him.
"That 'ere wall fair bothers 'em," he laughed. "Guess when you look at this island from 'way outside, there's jest a smooth white surface without so much as a break. Now, where aer them critters? Ah! over there, going along easy. I make it that there's two men aboard each sleigh, and that this here's merely a kind of scouting. Keep well down, me lad. We ain't goin' to help them by even a little."
In ghostly silence the two sleighs circled round the island. They kept at a respectful distance, then dividing, ran in opposite directions. After some ten minutes had passed they met again, and, swerving so as to take the same path, went off in the direction of the camp which the enemy were occupying. It was perhaps half an hour later, when the little garrison had fortified themselves with a steaming cup of tea, and pipes were comfortably going, that Joe again gave a warning.
"Coming in full force," he said. "There's four men at least on each of the sleighs. They're making directly for the island."
It was a true report, for when Hank and Beaver Jack joined Joe, there were the two sleighs, their teams spread out in front, tearing along towards the island, while each one of the rascals on the sleighs bent down, hoping thereby to decrease the wind resistance.
"I could plump a shot clear into 'em now," observed Hank, nursing his rifle. "But guess it's better to give 'em what they've been axing for from the beginning. Ef we're goin' to get out of this bother with our scalps, as you might say, we aer got to read them critters a bad lesson. Shootin' at them from a distance won't do it. We've got to run the chance of 'em getting at us, and wait till they're at close quarters."
So they watched the two crews advance, till a sudden shout caused the drivers to draw rein. Then eight figures leaped from the sleighs and, dividing at once, came racing forward.
Joe and his friends watched them quietly and with determination. Ignorant of the cause of the attack, they were naturally incensed, while such a thing as surrender had not occurred to them. But a looker-on must have had serious doubts as to their success; indeed, it may be said that their danger was great and pressing. As for the scheme which the ruffian Hurley had originated, his chances of ridding himself of a rival may truthfully be described as rosy. With Joe Bradley slain in this outlandish situation, there seemed little difficulty in carrying out the remainder of a disgraceful and cowardly conspiracy. Hurley would present himself in England. He would demand those documents and proof of origin. A fine fortune and position seemed to be awaiting him.
CHAPTER XVIII
On the Defensive
A strange silence had fallen upon attackers and attacked, once the former had leaped from their sleighs and had begun to race across the snow-covered surface of the lake. Not a sound broke from them, though now and then there was a whimper from one of the dogs in the teams attached to the sleighs; and neither Hank nor Joe or Beaver Jack so much as uttered a syllable. Perhaps if they had leaped to the summit of the wall they had built, and had shouted and thrown threats at the enemy, it would have had the effect of spurring the latter on; for opposition in any shape or form is apt to stimulate men to courage and exertion, but silence depresses. The attackers seemed to lose heart rapidly; then, as one stopped doubtfully, his comrades slowly copied his example. Thereupon a burly figure turned upon them angrily.
"Forward!" he shouted almost incoherently. "Why stop here? The fools can kill you now as easily as they could if you were closer. Forward!"
"Give 'em a sight of the dummies we've rigged up," whispered Hank at once. "Jest show the tops o' their heads over the wall; I'll lie here and give 'em a shot ef they want to come closer."
He spread himself face downward on the snow and pushed his rifle through one of the apertures which Joe had left. Meanwhile our hero and the Redskin each took one of the dummies which the cunning little trapper had manufactured during his hours of watching, and slowly raised that part which was supposed to be the head over the summit of the wall. Crouching as low as possible themselves, they moved the dummies slowly to and fro; for they were some three yards from one another. At once there came a loud shout from the open, and, staring out through the aperture, Hank saw the same burly figure which he had observed before dashing to and fro haranguing his following; but move them he could not.
A DEFENCE AGAINST ODDSA DEFENCE AGAINST ODDS
A DEFENCE AGAINST ODDSA DEFENCE AGAINST ODDS
"What? You won't come on?" the three defenders heard him bellow. "Never did I meet such cowards! Look at the men we've come for. Fire!"
They could do that even if they would not advance, and in a twinkling the seven half-breeds had thrown themselves into all sorts of attitudes, and were busy with their weapons. There came an irregular volley, while the narrow, elongated bullet of the modern weapon, the larger, squat missile of the rifle somewhat out of date, and even the huge round leaden ball discharged by a smoothbore came hurtling about the fort. Joe heard again the zip-zip of rapidly-travelling bodies cutting their way through a maze of branches, he felt the hail of debris as it fell, while within a foot or more of his head he listened to the dull thud of a bullet striking the hard-frozen wall, and heard the queer ripping sound it made as it forced a way through and sped on across the fort to the far wall. Then there was a pause, during which there was deathly silence.
"I ain't in no hurry to fire," said Hank, in low tones, grinning up at his companions, "and I'll tell you for why. Shouts and firing and sichlike would make them critters come on; silence gives 'em the hump. In any case, they ain't bustin' with pluck, and never did I see men show less dash when attackin'. Say, Joe, ain't I heard that voice before? Seems as ef I ought to know it."
Before he could receive an answer, the burly man was again addressing his men, strutting up and down before them; for though his orders had been that they should divide and approach the island from every point of the compass, the half-breeds lacking courage had held together, as if the companionship of their fellows helped to hearten them.
"Forward!" Joe heard the command given. "You can see where they are now. They've rigged up a wall, and any one of us can hop over it in a twinkling. Now, all together!"
But his orders went unheeded. Instead, a second volley spluttered down the irregular line, while once again a variety of shots swept against the fort. Joe could see Beaver Jack's penetrating eyes twinkling. He even fancied there was a smile on those lips which were always so impassive. In any case, the Redskin pointed overhead to the dummy he held and nodded.
"Fine shooting," he murmured. "Send bullet right through the head; glad Beaver Jack not up there."
Then Hank repeated his question.
"Queer, ain't it, Joe? I'd swear I'd met that chap before. But——"
"I believe—" began our hero doubtfully, "but it can't be."
"Can't be? There's nothing that can't be 'way out here after what's happened. I tell you, man and boy I've tracked the backwoods, and never once have I been set on like this. I've heard o' ructions, in course, but always near the forts and stations, or in the settlements. But right out in the wilds like this—never! I'll eat my boots ef these here critters ain't been set on us. Seems to me that ef we could get a hold on that big chap as seems to lead 'em, and could make him talk, there's a heap he could tell us. Who is he, anyway?"
"Hurley!" exclaimed Joe.
"Eh? What? Hurley? That durned murderer! Shucks, lad, that's too tall for anything!"
"I'm dead sure. Hurley's tall; Hurley's a big man; Hurley's voice is the same as that."
"But—" interrupted Hank hoarsely, keeping his eyes all the while on the enemy, "but, grant you the voice is the same—now that you've said it, I 'low that that aer Hurley's voice—he'd be mad to follow like this. There's a string always round his neck, and he ain't likely to come close to the men who know it. It ain't reasonable. Why, we could hang the scoundrel any day we set hands on him!"
"True enough," agreed Joe, "but—wait, they're moving. That rascal is getting them to their feet; we'd better be ready for trouble."
Joe had managed to squat down close to one of the openings, and as he conversed with Hank had wriggled himself into a position which enabled him to look out. Everything outside on the moonlit snow was visible. Indeed, the white background showed up every detail, though, as it happened that the enemy had their backs to the moon, their features were indistinguishable. But features are of no account when bullets are flying, or when an attack is about to be launched. The enemy had gathered into a bunch, in spite of the shouts of their leader, and now, fortified by even closer companionship, and goaded by the burly brute who stood at their head, they poured in another volley, then, trailing their weapons, dashed toward the fort. Joe jerked his dummy on to the top of the wall and left it there; then his hand sought for his rifle, and in a trice he had the muzzle grinning at the enemy. He jerked back the bolt—for he always kept the weapon at safety—took a rapid aim at one of the charging figures, and pulled the trigger. To his amazement, the man at whom he aimed doubled up into a neat round ball and, tumbling on the snow, rolled rapidly forward. But it was not for long. He straightened himself suddenly, stood erect, and then threw his arms overhead. A penetrating shriek came from him, and a moment later he bounded into the air and fell face downward. Hank's rifle spat forth a bullet in the interval and sent a second man rocking from side to side. Long before Beaver Jack could get to one of the apertures, or Hank push in a fresh cartridge, the enemy were in wild retreat, separating widely and racing away as fast as their snowshoes would take them. As for Joe, numbed fingers do not readily operate the bolt of even a modern weapon, while, for the same reason, cartridges are hard to grip; so that he had not even reloaded. But numbed fingers were not the only reason for such delay; he was watching the man at whom he had fired. A feeling of elation possessed him for one brief second as the rascal doubled up and rolled forward, and then one of terror, of keen remorse.
"I—I killed him," he cried, a waver in his voice.
Hank looked up quickly, his lips moving.
"Eh?" he asked shortly.
"I killed him," declared Joe again, almost plaintively.
"Ah, so you did, young 'un, and a mighty fine shot it war. But you ain't going to tell me that you're sorry? In course in a way one is sorry when one wipes a critter out, but——"
"It's awful!" groaned Joe, huge depression upon him.
Hank scrambled to his feet, dragged our hero to his, and took him away from the wall where the moon's rays fell brightly upon both of them.
"See here," he cried angrily, though those who knew the little man best would have declared that his anger was artificial, "see here, young feller; am I less valuable to you than that 'ere cuss? Eh? You ain't got an answer. You don't seem to reckon that ef you wasn't to shoot, the critter would come right in and kill me or you. Ef it's like that, and you value him higher, why, I'm for moving."
Very slowly he began to clamber on to the top of the wall. He dropped his legs over to the far side, and seemed to be in the act of departing from the fort. Then Joe came to his senses; he caught the little trapper by the fringed sleeve and dragged him back. Indeed, using his strength and height, he gripped the little man and lifted him bodily. He was smiling when Hank at length broke free.
"It's over," he said; "I'm sorry."
"No harm done, lad," came the hearty answer. "No one was ever the wuss for havin' a soft heart. But this here aer war, war to the knife, and, what's more, that aer Hurley. Would a skunk same as him leave us alive ef the call was with him? Huh!"
That was the most expressive sound he could make. It betokened the utmost scorn; it showed Hank when most emphatic.
"It aer Hurley, fer sure," he declared. "But why? Aer he mad?"
"Not mad, but hoping to make something out of us or out of me," said Joe. "At least that is the idea I have, though it seems to be stupid, and there is no apparent reason for my saying so. But what does it matter what the cause of the attack may be? It's Hurley."
"Dead sartin—the skunk!" growled Hank.
"And he means business."
"He aer goin' to wipe the hull lot of us out ef he's able. But he aer come up agin a crowd that's got its dander up, so I tells him. He aer yet to larn what backwoods chaps and others kin do. Next time I makes a particular point o' puttin' my sights on him, and ef I get the chance, I'll roll him over. Let's see what they're doing."
For the next ten minutes the trio sat on the summit of the wall in the full glare of the moonlight, for there was now no object in concealment, and watched the enemy. They had retired as far as their sleighs, and it looked for a little while as if they were about to mount and drive away. But the burly figure of the rascal who led them—now admittedly Hurley, the murderer, the escaped criminal—tramped up and down near them, and though only a faint whisper of his voice could be heard every now and again, when the wind bore it in the direction of the island, it was perfectly evident that he was again using all his persuasive eloquence to induce his followers to repeat the attack. They saw him swing round more than once and point towards the fort. They watched as the enemy actually advanced again; but a shot from Hank surging between them seemed to put their courage to flight, for they went again to the sledges. Then there was a different scene.
"Threatening them," remarked Joe. "Hurley is shaking his fist at us, and pointing his gun at his own people. I begin to believe that we shall win out all right. Say, Hank, how many men can go on a sleigh as a rule?"
"Depends on the teams, lad. Some'll have only a small team, and then one man are a load; some'll take four, same as those, and move sharpish over the snow. Then agin, it depends a heap on the ground. Ef it's smooth and level, the work aer easy; ef there's a hill, folks has to dismount; and ef there's a thaw—shucks! you can't get along nohow."
"But just now, after the 'silver thaw' we've had, the snow is beautifully hard, and if those beggars went the opposite way, the way we'd go if we were making back towards the Fennicks, they'd move."
"Fly," came crisply from the hunter. "It aer a trifle downhill, and since this keen frost set in, the snow aer hard and smooth. Yes, they'd fly. But don't you reckon on that; Hurley'll work them half-breeds up to attack again. They'll wait perhaps till morning, or till it's darker. It'll be that any time now, and I ain't so certain that we ain't in for a little snow. It won't be much, anyway, for there's only a few clouds about; but the wind's got up a little, and clouds have come into sight that wasn't there when we came to the island."
"Ah!" Joe gave vent to the short expression in such a tone of voice that Hank stared at him. It was just as if he had said "Thanks awfully; you've just given me the information I wanted."
"What's that?" demanded the hunter.
"Nothing," answered Joe briskly.
"You ain't goin' to flummox me! You was thinkin' something jest then; you're up to some game and ain't let on yet."
The little fellow was gifted with wonderful intelligence, and picked up Joe's unspoken thoughts with the same intuition with which he would have ferreted out the tracks of an enemy, or guessed at their possible movements. He shook Joe angrily, staring into his face.
"What aer it?" he demanded. "This ain't the time for playing games. But I guess you've something at the back of that head of yours. Now, I've caught you out—-what's the move?"
Joe told him in a very few words; for he had of a sudden come to the determination to move against the enemy.
"I'm going to do a little bit of scouting, Hank," he said. "I'm going across to their camp to see what's happening. What I want to know is this: will those dogs they have set up a racket and fly at me?"
"You bet! In course they will. Only there's snow everywhere now, and ef you're careful—and I've larned ye to be—then you'd be able to manage without rousing the critters."
"And if I took a hunk of meat with me I might manage to quiet them in any case, eh?" asked our hero.
"Might, mightn't; can't say. Jest a toss up—what then?"
"That's telling," smiled Joe. "But you and Beaver Jack be ready. If you see a sleigh coming along quick, with one man aboard it, put it down that it's me. I'm going to make a move to get possession of one of them, and once I have got it, why, we'll make tracks for the Fennicks."
The little hunter regarded his pupil in open-mouthed amazement. He stepped a pace away, held Joe at arm's length, then brought one hand with a bang down on to his shoulder; only, as this young friend of his had grown so prodigiously of late, Hank had to stand on tiptoe.
"Of all the mad ideas that ever was, this is it!" he cried. "But it aer fine, and I'll say more, it aer the only way to pull us out of this business, mad though it does appear. Ef you hadn't wanted to go, I'd have gone. But you suggested, and so you shall make the attempt. And ef they spot you, jest run for your life out on to the lake. Beaver Jack and me'll follow you across and build up a bit of a breastwork close by the shore. That'll give us a sorter place to hold 'em from, and there you could join us. If you succeed, why, off we goes, in course; and, now that I thinks of it more, ef you ain't too proud, I'd like to come with you. Why? I'll tell you. The dogs are bound to be a bother. You ain't never handled the critters, while I have, many a time, and dogs, like hosses, soon gets to know when they're dealing with a green 'un. How's that?"
"Agreed!" cried Joe, delighted to have a companion. "Ask Jack what he thinks of the affair."
Half an hour later there was quite a stir amongst the garrison of the island, for the enemy had disappeared, having returned downheartened to their own encampment. Beaver Jack and Joe were bearing along between them the light sleigh upon which the Redskin's pelts were stacked, and on which their own traps would find a place. They lifted it to the top of the wall they had built and, leaping to the outside, lowered it carefully. Hank then handed down rifles and ammunition, the former of which they slung over their shoulders.
"If the wust comes to the wust, we makes back here agin," he said. "It aer been a proper tight little island; now we kin move. Them clouds has smothered the moon nicely, and it aer snowing enough to hide a man at fifty yards. Guess we'll cross, throw up a wall of snow, making a sorter nest in case we want it, and then get away on to the camp them half-breeds is occupying."
He took the end of the tow-rope, while Beaver Jack went immediately behind him. Joe fell in in rear, and in that order they strode on across the snow towards the shore which harboured the enemy. They halted once to listen, for a dog had yelped. But as the sound was not repeated, they pressed on again, and were soon at the point where ice and solid earth met beneath the all-pervading mantle of snow.
"This'll do," said Hank shortly. "Slip off yer snowshoes and rake the snow up from a central point; that'll leave a deep little hole to shelter us. See here, Beaver Jack, you keep a bright eye open for us. Ef we comes bowling along on a sleigh, get a hold of that sleigh rope of yours, leap aboard us, and make fast. Ef we comes runnin' out, jest see that you shoot at them critters who'll be follerin' and not at us."
That was his farewell to the Redskin. He and Joe helped to erect the wall of snow, and then, leaving Beaver Jack to complete the task, strode on again towards the camp which they had vacated for the benefit of the enemy. Under one arm the little hunter carried a ball of snow, which seemed somewhat curious and unnecessary, especially considering the fact that the ground was thickly covered with the same material. But within the snow there was something of greater value.
"It's that chunk o' meat," Hank had explained, when he first produced his burden. "I set it over the fire till it was wellnigh cooked and the frost driven out of it altogether. Then I cut it into pieces, packed them close in a piece of skin from one o' the beasts we shot, and wrapped the whole again in snow, which'll help to keep the heat in and the cold out. Sounds rummy, don't it? But it'll work handsome."
"Now, young chap," he whispered, when he and our hero had parted from the Redskin and were within three hundred yards of the enemy, "we've got to decide how we'll work this business. How's it to be?"
"You take the dogs," said Joe at once. "I'll tackle Hurley."
"But—but you ain't going to kick up a rumpus with him, surely!" exclaimed Hank, sinking his voice till it was almost inaudible, and almost hissing the words. "It aer the sleigh we want, two of 'em ef we could manage it, though that ain't possible. Ef we get away with one, only four of the critters can follow, and what's four after so many? You ain't after Hurley?"
He was answered by a vigorous shake of the head. "No, I don't want any struggle; I wouldn't shoot the fellow if I had the opportunity."
"Wouldn't ye? Then I would, me lad. It aer human nature to look to number one fust. When a man murders, and aer wanted by the hangman, when he begins trying his best to murder others, then's the time fer him to go under. Hurley has my bullet fust time I kin look straight along the barrel. But what aer you after?"
"I don't know. I want to see what he's doing. I want to find out if he has that envelope he stole from me so many months ago now."
Hank's head shot up quickly. He was a man with such a vast experience of life, and had encountered so many strange happenings, that he was not inclined to think a thing impossible till he had proved it to be so. There was that envelope, to be sure. Joe had often spoken about it. He had told Hank the whole story, how there was something within the envelope which he could have read had he chosen, though against his dead father's wishes. The contents, in fact, were for perusal only when he had made good, when he had fought his own battles. And Hank had been impressed by the recital.
"It aer a queer story," he had said in his quiet little way, "and I 'low as the temptation to open that envelope must have been great. But your dad war right. Supposing the letter told you of dollars to be had for the axing, what would have happened? You'd have stayed back there in England. You'd have lived on the best of the land and become fat and lousy. You wouldn't have had half the fun out of life, for the struggle to make good aer fun to everyone who's got spirit and pride. 'Sides, there's something wuss. This here Hank wouldn't have made your acquaintance.
"Supposing that letter had had something to do with monetary affairs?" The little hunter came to a halt promptly and stared before him. He would have whistled but for the proximity of the enemy. Instead, he turned on Joe, and with the snowflakes falling about them gripped him firmly by the sleeve. "By Jingo," he whispered, "I believe you've got it! That there Hurley stole the letter. When he was captured he hid it up, for he'd had time to take a look at it. Perhaps he forgot to hide the dollar notes. But in any case, he put the letter away in some safe place, perhaps in the shack close to that lake where he went into hiding. He'd larned that there was gain to be made by it, ef only he could get clear of the law. Wall, he slipped off. Those police let him out of their fingers. He went back for the letter, and then, because you've something to do with it, as of course is sartin, he sets out to find and wipe you out. Huh! It's all in a nutshell. You ain't wanted, young chap. Soon as you're wiped out, Hurley comes in for something that's waiting."
Perhaps it was native sagacity again, a strange mixture of intuition and intelligence, which helped the little hunter. Perhaps also, taking every point into consideration, it was the most reasonable solution to come to. Be that as it may, Hank at one effort had fathomed the mystery of this unprovoked attack, and at the same time had discovered that Joe was most probably rather an important person.
"But you ain't got the dollars yet, not by a long way," he cautioned. "We ain't got out of this muss, and Hurley'll do his best to hold us. Now, lad, you aer after that envelope. Wall, see here. Ef it's to be had easy, take it; ef not, leave the thing till another time. For ef we clear out of this with our scalps we'll ride for the nearest fort garrisoned by the North-west Police, or some station where there's Ontario Police quartered. We'll inform about Hurley, and we'll lead a party along till the rascal's taken. Life, I guess, aer more valuable than a letter; so bear that in mind, and hold off ef there's danger."
With their plans thus arranged, the two crept forward, and were soon within some fifty yards of the camp. Through the falling snowflakes they could see the large lean-to in which the half-breeds were sleeping, for the band of desperadoes had thrown themselves down immediately on returning. The fire at the entrance burned low, and the light it gave out was feeble. But more issued from a second, blazing some yards to the left, and illuminating the interior of the other lean-to.
"The men!" whispered Hank, pointing to the first. "That 'ere critter yonder! It aer up to us now to locate the dogs. H-hish! Here's one o' them coming."
Joe saw him tear his bundle asunder and extract a piece of flesh. At the same moment he became aware of the fact that a huge beast was slowly crawling toward them.
"Was it actually a dog? No. Yes; that was certain. Then would it suddenly give tongue and fling itself upon them?"
"H-h-hish!" said Hank, making a curious little clicking sound with his tongue. "He's smelt the meat; ef only he'll be quiet, we'll soon have the others."
A low, almost inaudible growl came from the brute advancing on them. Even in that light Joe could see that its coat was bristling. It was slinking toward them now on half-bent legs, looking as if it would make a sudden spring when within easy reach of them. The position of the two might be described, in fact, as more than a trifle embarrassing.