CHAPTER XVTHE WAY OF THE BIG WOODS
Three horsemen were seen approaching as rapidly as the uneven going would permit. Two of the trio were holding their rifles under their arms at a position indicating readiness for instant action.
The Overlanders were observing them narrowly, and especially Joe Shafto, who, having seen them first, and being suspicious of the newcomers, had run for her rifle and thrown herself down behind a log, commanding Henry to follow. The only other member of the Overland Riders who had a weapon handy was Lieutenant Wingate, who wore the heavy service revolver that he had carried while a fighting air pilot in France.
Hippy's hand was close to the butt of his revolver, but he made no effort to draw it, even though he believed that he and his party were about to have trouble.
"Keep clear, girls, and give me room," he warned. "May have to shoot."
As the three strangers, one leading the way, reached the edge of the camp, the two rear ridersthrew up their rifles and covered the Overland party with them.
"Put up yer hands!" came the command, sharp and incisive.
"Put up your own," flung back Lieutenant Wingate, and the newcomers found themselves facing his weapon. "Tag! You're it. What is this, anyway?"
"Drop that aire gun or I'll let ye have a hunk of lead!" threatened one of the strangers.
"No you won't. You haven't the nerve. I'll tell you what I will do. I will put my revolver back in its holster provided you put down your own weapons. If you make a move to shoot I will draw and wing you before you can pull a trigger. If you don't believe me, try it. At the same time, old tops, I would advise you that, though you don't know it, you are already covered by a repeating rifle, and further, that should you make a false move, the rifle is likely to go off." With that Hippy Wingate thrust his revolver into its holster. "Your move. What's the joke?" he demanded, casting a quick glance at the log behind which the forest woman was hiding, and observing that her rifle barrel protruded over the log ever so little, though the woman herself was not visible.
The men did not lower their weapons, but the rider in advance rode right into the camp.
"You carrying guns? I mean game guns—rifles?" questioned the man in a tone of severity.
"Yes."
"Shot anything?"
"Not yet, but I came near shooting two men just now," answered Hippy, scowling as savagely as he knew how.
"Let me see 'em!"
"There's one of them. Look at it! On that log yonder," he added, pointing to Joe Shafto's rifle. "Want to see the rest of them?"
"I reckon that's enough," answered the stranger. "I've heard that ye folks was a tough bunch, and up here for a big killing. I'm the game warden. I don't suppose ye even went to the trouble to git a license to hunt in this state. Folks like you think they can git away with most anything, but ye can't do it in these parts."
"Game warden, eh? You guessed wrong, old Santa Claus. I have a license. We all have licenses and we propose to do some hunting when the season opens, though that is not the main purpose of our journey up here."
"Show me."
Hippy handed his license to the warden, which that officer read with frowning attention. Handing it back he demanded to see the licenses of the others, which Lieutenant Wingate had hadthe foresight to procure before the Overland Riders came west.
"Reckon you're all right so far as licenses is concarned, but ye can't carry guns up here till the season—the game season's open," said the game warden, handing back the licenses.
"It's always an open season for the kind of game we are going to hunt," Hippy informed him.
"Eh? What kind's that?"
"Your kind," retorted Hippy sharply.
"That's all I've got to do with ye. I'd make ye give up the guns, but these gents have something to say to you folks. They'll take care of yer rifles and such."
The game warden backed his horse away. His two companions, taking their cue from his move, rode to the fore.
Hippy surveyed them narrowly.
"Here comes the rub," Miss Briggs confided to Grace.
"We're deputy sheriffs," announced one.
"Charmed, I'm sure," greeted Hippy, bowing with much dignity. "Making early calls seems to be the way of the Big Woods. What do you want? Let me see. So far to-day we have had two wardens and two deputy sheriffs. Speak your piece, but remember that you are covered. It's just as well while talking to me to keep your muzzles pointed towards the ground."
"Are ye the fellows that burned up part of Section Forty-three?" asked the deputy.
"No. The fire did that. We are the fellows that put out the fire, or there would be nothing left of a good part of that section except blackened stumps and dead tree toads."
"Seeing as ye admit it, that's all right."
Hippy nodded. Grace and Elfreda had stepped up, just to the rear of Hippy, that they might miss nothing of what was being said. The second deputy kept a watchful eye on them, presumably to see that they played no tricks on his companion.
"The owner of that section, Hi Dusenbery, reckons as ye've got to pay fer the loss of the timber ye burned, and I'm here, fer one thing, to serve the papers on ye in the suit. Do ye accept service?"
Hippy reached for the papers that the deputy held out, and, without looking at them, tore them and dropped the fragments on the ground.
"You shouldn't have done that," rebuked Miss Briggs. "Grace, help me gather up the pieces. The idea!"
"Anything else?" demanded Lieutenant Wingate. "I have had about enough of this nonsense."
"I reckon there is something else. Ye're charged with bein' dangerous characters. Informationhas been laid against ye by one William Tatem, otherwise known as Peg Tatem, accusin' some person unknown, but belongin' to this party, of shootin' him through the leg."
"It was a wooden leg, and the shots were not fired by any person or persons in this party. We do not know who fired them," interrupted Hippy.
The deputy sheriffs grinned.
"Ye are further charged with causin' certain wild animals, to wit, a bear and a big ugly dog, to attack Peg Tatem and his men and do 'em injury, to wit, bites and scratches, not to speak of a bad scare."
"Well? There must be something more," urged Hippy. "What do you want me to do?"
"Peg opined that if ye would settle with him for the damages to his leg, and pay him for the scare ye give him, and settle with his jacks for what ye did to them, he might be willin' to let ye off."
Grace said something to Elfreda under her breath and Elfreda nodded. Both saw that Lieutenant Wingate's good nature was slipping from him, that his temper was rising.
"Don't do anything rash, Hippy," urged Grace in a low tone.
"If I refuse, what then?" he demanded belligerently, addressing the man.
"That's up to ye."
"I refuse to pay one copper cent!" roared Hippy. "Go tell that timber-legged friend of yours that if he bothers us again he will either get a bullet through his real leg or land in jail or both. Put that in your pipe and smoke it! I don't believe you are deputies at all."
"Then yer under arrest. The whole pack of ye is under arrest!" shouted the deputy, suddenly throwing up his rifle.
Bang!
A bullet whizzed past the deputy's head, fired from the ready rifle of Joe Shafto, who, with finger on the trigger, was glaring through her big horn-rimmed spectacles, alert for a suggestive move on the part of either of the three men, which would be the signal for another shot from her rifle.
CHAPTER XVIWILLY HORSE SHOWS THE WAY
Elfreda laid a hand on Lieutenant Wingate's arm, then stepped between him and the deputy, who had lowered his rifle a little, hesitating, it appeared, whether to shoot and take his chances or to adopt the safer course. The fact that he chose the latter, and made no further effort to intimidate them with his weapon, was significant to Miss Briggs.
"Mister Man, I am a lawyer, and I will speak with you. I believe you just said that we are all under arrest," reminded Elfreda in an ordinary conversational tone.
"Ye are that, unless ye settle up," blustered the fellow.
"Then, of course, you have warrants. Have you?"
"Well, well, no, I reckon I hain't. Don't need none. I'm an officer of the law. This is my warrant," he said, tapping the rifle.
"We have similar arguments, arguments that are fully as potent," replied Miss Briggs significantly. "We decline to recognize anyauthority unless backed by proper credentials. What county are you from, may I inquire?"
"St. Louis County," grumbled the deputy.
"And your companion—is he from the same county?"
"Yes. Come! I ain't got time for per-laverin' around. Are ye goin' to pay up or go with us?"
"Neither! You have no warrant; you have no proof that you are officers of the law, and you admit that you are from St. Louis County. Grace, what county are we now in?"
"Beltrami County," replied Grace Harlowe, who had been consulting her map.
Miss Briggs nodded.
"Out of your jurisdiction, Mister Deputy! It might be in order for me to suggest that you remove your persons from our camp," finished Elfreda in the same even tone with which she had carried on the conversation throughout.
"I'll see whether ye'll go with us or not!" raged the deputy.
"Joe!" called Hippy sharply. "If these rough-necks don't goinstanter, trim 'em right."
"Don't set Henry on them. They might hurt him," called Grace.
"Get out!" commanded Hippy.
The three men got, but before going they warned the Overland Riders that they would havethe law on them for shooting at officers in the discharge of their duty.
In reply, Hippy waved a hand and grinned, and the men rode away rather more rapidly than they had come into the camp.
"Great thought of yours, J. Elfreda," complimented Lieutenant Wingate.
"Elfreda uses her head, Hippy. How much better than flying into a rage and threatening your enemy with dire things," reminded Grace.
"You don't always do that yourself," retorted Hippy. "Thanks, Joe. Had it not been for you we might have had a disturbance."
"Aren't we ever going to have peace?" wailed Emma. "I know I shall have nervous prostration at this rate."
"Cheer up. Let the voice of nature soothe your troubled spirits and rise above such common things as mere officers of the law," comforted Hippy. "What next?"
"Suppose we break camp and move," suggested Grace.
"Yes, yes; let's do so," urged Anne.
"Do you think they will come back, darlin'?" questioned Nora anxiously.
"Not before it is time for the swallows to build their nests under the eaves."
Joe, muttering to herself, went out to fetch in her pack mules, June and July, preparatory toloading the equipment on them for the start. Joe was a little rougher with the animals than usual, and their ears, tilted back at a sharp angle, indicated their resentment, but the guide was too angry to notice this danger signal. A sharp slap on June's thigh to make the animal step over was followed by a lightning-like flash of two tough little mule heels, and Joe Shafto was lifted from her feet and hurled against July, and then July began to kick.
The Overlanders, frightened for the safety of the guide, ran to assist her, when, out of the mix-up, leaped the forest woman, her hair tumbled down her back, and eyes blazing through the big horn-rimmed spectacles, she having rolled under July and out of the way with amazing agility.
"I'll larn ye, ye beasts!" she shrieked, running for her club.
June felt the sting of it, and July grunted as the club descended on the fleshy part of her hip, at the same instant shooting both hind feet into the air; but this time Joe was out of reach.
"Here, here!" cried Hippy, springing forward to interfere. "We don't permit any one to beat animals in this menagerie," he chided, grabbing the woman's club.
"Leggo!" shrieked Joe, wrenching the club from his hands. "No man ain't goin' to tellJoe Shafto what she kin do. Git out of here!" she raged, advancing threateningly on Hippy. "I'll paste them mules when I want to, and—"
"That's all right, old dear," soothed Hippy, backing up laughingly, but Joe followed him, shaking the club before his face.
"Don't ye 'old dear' me. Mules is swine, and no better'n some men, and I give ye notice no man ain't goin' to come 'tween me and my mules. I'll paste 'em when I like, and I'll paste 'em like they did me, the varmints, and I won't have no animile that walks like a man interferin' 'tween me and the mules and tellin' me what ter do. Git out of here afore I give ye a wallop on the jaw, fer I'm goin' ter finish what I begun on June, and her name'll be December when I git through, and don't ye fergit it." Joe grabbed the mule by an ear, gave the animal a prod with her club, then slapped June's face.
"Consarn ye, ye pore insect that's tryin to look like a hoss, but that ain't even got the skin of one, I reckon ye'll be good arter this," she finished, and threw a pack over the back of the now thoroughly subdued pack-mule. "Git started, ye folks, and don't say nothin' to me, for I'm li'ble to git mad arter the stirrin' up them mules give me."
"Alors!Let's go," suggested Elfreda after the laughter of the Overlanders had subsided.
They were on their way a short time later, laughing as they headed for the section on which they hoped eventually to meet Tom, and make permanent camp. The forest woman had never been in that part of the woods, but, knowing the general direction, thought she could hold to it and come out somewhere near the spot they desired to reach.
That night they lay down to sleep in the open, wrapped in their blankets. For the week following the Overland Riders camped out in the same way, and nothing occurred to mar the life of freedom and happiness that they were leading.
The river had been left to the right of them, for the sake of what Joe said might be better going, and a fairly direct course was followed for several days more. One night, however, they suddenly found themselves on the banks of the Little Big Branch where it had taken a deep bend. Hippy declared that it had made the bend to be near Emma and murmur sweet nothings in her ear.
"Listen well, little one," he admonished. "Tidings from the frozen north, as well as messages intended for our ears alone, may be borne to us through you. It is mighty fortunate that we have you with us."
The bank of the river was their camp that night. The party slept just under the bluff,protected by it and lulled to sleep by the gently rippling waters of the forest stream. Early on the following morning they were aroused by an uproar in the camp. Out of the uproar came the shrill voice of their guide.
"Get out of here, ye lazy good-for-nothin'. Think this 'ere is a lumberjack hotel? Sick 'im, Henry! Sick 'im!" raged Joe Shafto.
Grace, hearing the bear growl, sprang up and ran out. Her companions were not far behind her.
Sitting crouched over the campfire, which he had built, calmly cooking his breakfast, was the Indian, Willy Horse, wholly undisturbed by the uproar that his presence had created.
"Call off the bear!" commanded Grace sharply. "The man is our friend."
"He's a lazy good-for-nothin' and he's stole yer breakfast," protested the forest woman, as she headed off Henry and drove him back with sundry prods of her foot.
"Good morning, Mr. Horse," greeted Emma.
"Mornin'," answered the Indian briefly.
Grace by this time was shaking hands with him; then the Overland girls surrounded him and demanded to know why he had not been to see them before.
Emma started to tell Willy what a lot of trouble they had been in when Grace interjected a remark that caused Elfreda to wonder.
"Perhaps Willy Horse knows more about our late unpleasantnesses than you do, Emma," said Grace.
"Hello, old man. How are you?" cried Hippy, striding forward with outstretched hand.
"How do! You Big Friend. Me make breakfast fire here."
"Help yourself," urged the girls.
"All yours," added Hippy with a wave of the hand that encompassed the entire camp.
"Not includin' the guide," differed Joe Shafto.
Grace told Willy to wait until their breakfast was ready and eat with them, but the Indian shook his head and stolidly continued preparing his own breakfast. When it was ready he ate it, then sat back and smoked his pipe.
"See other Big Friend," he finally vouchsafed.
"Tom Gray?" questioned Grace, instantly divining who Willy meant.
The Indian nodded his head.
"Him say all right," he added after an interval of puffing. "Say him come along bymeby. Say Willy Horse show you place to camp. Me show."
"That will be fine. Did my husband say when he expected to join us?" asked Grace.
"Say him come along soon. You see other white men?" Willy bent a steady look on the face of Hippy Wingate.
"I should say we have. Deputy sheriffs, game wardens and a forest ranger."
"Yes, and we saw a fellow named Peg Tatem. We had a fight with him," Emma informed their visitor.
"So?"
"Yes, we did, Mr. Horse. And some one shot a hole through his wooden leg. Who do you suppose could have done that?"
"Big Friend, huh?" he questioned, looking up at Hippy.
"Not guilty," answered Hippy with a shake of the head.
"How come?" demanded the Indian.
Emma Dean told him the story, Willy listening gravely, puffing slowly at his pipe, eyes fixed on the campfire. He smoked on in silence for some time after the conclusion of her narrative.
"Mebby Willy find out," he grunted.
"You suspect, don't you?" demanded Elfreda, who had been narrowly observing the Indian.
"Make breakfast. We go soon. Willy show where make camp." With that the Indian rose, turned his back on them and loped into the forest. They saw no more of him for fully two hours, and were already packed up and on their way when they saw him standing with shoulder against a great tree, watching their approach.
"You come along. Willy show," he directed as Hippy came abreast of him.
"How long will it take to reach this camp?" asked Lieutenant Wingate.
"Long time. Next sundown."
"To-morrow's or to-day's sundown?" demanded Emma.
"To-morrow."
Willy resumed his Indian gait, shoulders leaning forward, toes pointed inward, his center of gravity well forward, and in this position he trotted along for hours. The party halted at noon, but Willy Horse jogged on ahead and was soon out of sight. He rejoined them after they had resumed their journey and did not again stop until just before dark when he announced that they would camp where they were. The Indian then made browse-beds in the open for the Overland girls, and again disappeared.
"What's the matter with that pesky savage?" demanded the forest woman. "He's wuss'n the bear."
Hippy suggested that perhaps the Indian had gone off by himself to listen to the voices of nature.
"Perhaps he has gone away to shoot somebody's wooden leg," suggested Emma demurely.
Elfreda nodded, and said she too was convinced that Willy Horse had fired the shots thatshattered Peg Tatem's wooden leg, and the girls agreed with her. They never got any nearer to the truth of that occurrence, for, when questioned later about it, Willy Horse seemed unable to understand what they were talking about.
The Indian did not reappear until the following morning. That day he led them a long chase and kept the Overlanders at a fast jog. How he ever stood up under it they could not imagine, and when they stopped he was breathing naturally, and did not appear to be in the least fatigued.
"Come camp to-night," he told them when asked how near they were to their destination.
The woman guide had little to say, but her sour expression told the Overlanders that she was not pleased that the Indian was leading them.
The skies clouded over late in the afternoon, and later a drizzling rain set in, but they continued on, well protected by their waterproof coats, the hoods of which covered their heads. Henry, however, was a disconsolate-looking object, but Hindenburg, riding in Hippy's saddle bag, was dry and cosy, sleeping soundly as the rain pattered on his sleeping quarters.
Night found the party still some little distance from its destination, and Willy Horse was appealed to for encouragement. Emma wantedto camp where they were but the others outvoted her, so on they rode.
From then on the journey was an unpleasant one. The shins of the riders were barked from contact with trees. Low-hanging limbs of small second-growth trees slapped their faces and deluged the riders with water, and altogether they were experiencing about the most unpleasant ride that they had ever taken, except possibly that across the Great American Desert earlier in their vacation riding.
Grace, perhaps, was the only exception, in that she found herself enjoying the unusual experience and the excitement of it, for the stumbles of the ponies were frequent; here and there a tree was heard to fall crashing to earth, and, high and piercing on the soggy night air, they occasionally heard the mournful howl of a wolf.
"There goes seven dollars and a half," Emma would wail every time a wolf howled.
Willy Horse finally shouted and indicated by a gesture, which was revealed to the riders in the rear by Hippy's lamp, that he was about to change his course. The Indian turned sharply to the right, proceeded in a direct line for half a mile, as nearly as the Riders could judge, then threw his arm straight up into the air.
"Be we there?" yelled the forest woman.
"We be. That is, we're here, but whetherhere is there or somewhere else you will have to search the Indian for the answer. I don't know," answered Hippy.
"Wait! Me make fire," directed Willy.
The Overlanders, having sat their saddles so long, were literally sticking to the leather, but wrenched themselves loose, slid off and leaned against the steaming sides of their ponies, while water from the trees filtered over them and ran in rivulets down their coats.
The flame of a cheerful campfire showed through the mist and was greeted with a hoarse cheer by the cold Overland Riders.
"Is this the place where we are to stay until Mr. Gray joins us?" called Grace.
"Yes," answered the Indian.
"Land sakes! I never could have found it," exclaimed the forest woman. "Leastwise not in the dark. Reckon I might a follered the river and got here somehow, but not the way that pesky savage took us, and ter think I had ter be showed by a heathen how to get here."
The fire flamed into a snapping blaze, and then to the delight of the party, they saw near at hand a large lean-to and two smaller ones.
"Willy, did you make them for us?" wondered Anne.
"Yes. Me make 'em."
"But, they must be soaked through," protestedNora. "How shall we be able to sleep in a lean-to on a night like this."
"No leak. Bark on roof," the Indian informed her.
"Come, girls. Let us stake down and get close to that fire. I am shivering," urged Elfreda.
"I expect my pup is too," said Hippy. "And the bear. Oh, where is he?"
Henry had disappeared and his master was too busy to bother about him.
After building a cook fire, Willy ran out into the forest, returning soon thereafter with several large slices of bear meat, from stores that he had safely cached, which he proceeded to fry over the fire while Mrs. Shafto was boiling water for tea and opening cans of beans. The girls threw off their wet garments and sank luxuriously into the browse floor of their lean-to.
"Oh, girls, this is worth all the discomforts we have been through, isn't it?" cried Anne enthusiastically.
"I don't know whether it is or not," answered Emma sourly. "Any port in a storm, you know."
Hippy came in wet and dripping after caring for the ponies, with Hindenburg tucked safely under his coat.
"Reminds me of France," he exclaimed jovially. "Say, children, may my Hindenburgsleep in your quarters to-night? It will be warmer and more comfortable for him than in mine."
"No!" shouted the Overland girls.
"He may sleep in the attic," suggested Emma. "Otherwise, on the roof. Hippy, why do you keep that animal around? What is he good for except to eat and sleep?"
"Don't you malign my bull pup. He is a watch dog, the best ever, and—" Hippy's remaining words were lost in the shout of laughter that interrupted him.
"Oh, Hippy, you are a scream," exclaimed Grace. "You know very well that the only thing Hindenburg has watched since we started, is the food, and always he has watched for us to throw some of it to him. Yes, he is a wonderful watch dog."
All were now crowded into the lean-to, except Willy, who, after cooking the bear-meat, said "Bye," and went away.
Good-nights were said early that evening and all hands turned in after Mrs. Shafto had fed what was left of the supper to Henry. The bear had come in immediately after getting the odor of one of his relatives being cooked over the Overland Riders' campfire.
Rain roared on the bark roofs of the lean-tos all night long, but the girls, dry and cosy, sleptthe night through without once awakening, with Henry on guard out there sitting under a tree in a disconsolate attitude, now and then wearily licking the water from his coat. Hindenburg, more favored, slept cuddled between Lieutenant Wingate's feet.
The present camp, it was understood between the Overlanders and Tom Gray, was to be a permanent camp for some time to come, and it was here that some of the most exciting scenes of their journey through the Great North Woods were to be witnessed by them.
CHAPTER XVIIIN THE INDIAN TEPEE
The rain had ceased, when Grace, the first of her party to awaken, looked out as she lay on her browse bed. The river was shining in the morning sun, glassy, save here and there where its waters rippled over a shallow of gravel.
"Turn out!" she shouted. "This is too wonderful to miss. Oh, look!"
A canoe, with an Indian crouching in its stern wielding a paddle, was skimming across the stream, not a sound or splash of paddle, nor hardly a ripple from it to be heard or seen.
"It's Willy Horse. Hurry, girls! Don't miss this wonderful nature canvas."
Exclamations were heard from all the girls after they had rubbed the sleep from their eyes. By then Willy was nearing their shore, and the bow of his canoe, a real birch canoe made by himself, landed on the beach, whereupon, Willy threw out a mess of speckled trout, sufficient for breakfast for the entire party, amid little cries of delight from the girls.
"Hey there, Thundercloud! Are those all for my breakfast?" called Hippy from his lean-to.
"Hippy!" rebuked Nora.
"Oh, send him out in the woods to eat with Henry," advised Emma.
While the Overland girls were washing at the river, Willy cleaned the fish and handed them to the forest woman who already had the cook fire going. And such a breakfast as the Overland party had that morning! Following the meal they made Willy take them for a ride in his canoe, two at a time; then Hippy and the bull pup took a skim up and down the river with Willy at the paddle.
"All we need now to make us feel like real aborigines is an Indian wigwam or a tepee," suggested Grace to her companions.
"What is the difference between them?" asked Miss Briggs.
"A tepee is a temporary home; the wigwam is the Indian's permanent abiding place."
"Me make," announced Willy.
"Oh, Mister Horse! Will you really?" giggled Emma.
Willy grunted, and, shoving off his canoe, paddled swiftly away. He returned an hour later, the canoe loaded with strips of birch bark which he carefully laid on the shore. TheIndian then trotted off into the forest. On this trip he fetched an armful of "lodge"-poles. After trimming them, he tied three together with a long deerskin thong, about eighteen inches from the tops of the poles, carrying the thong about them a few times and leaving the end of it trailing down. The rest of the poles he stood against the sides of the tripod at regular intervals all the way around.
"Oh, it's an Indian house!" cried Emma. "It really is."
Thus far the work had been quickly accomplished, and now came the enclosing of the structure. This Willy did by laying strips of bark on the sloping "lodge"-poles, carrying the leather thong about them to hold the bark firmly against the poles. The entrance, formed by spreading poles apart, faced the waters of the Little Big Branch.
The tepee was finished shortly before eleven o'clock that morning, when Willy hung a blanket of deerhide over the doorway. As yet, none of the Overlanders had been permitted to look in and when they asked if they might do so, "You wait. Me fix," answered the Indian, ducking into the house he had created, and in a few moments they saw wisps of smoke curling up from the peak of the tepee through the opening left by the tops of the "lodge"-poles.
"You come," announced the Indian as he stepped out.
The girls lost no time in crawling into the tepee. Cries of delight rose with the smoke of the lodge-fire that Willy had made with a few sticks and pieces of bark, as they found themselves in a circular room fully ten feet in diameter, in the center of which crackled a comforting little fire, the draft carrying the smoke straight up and out of the tepee.
"What if it should rain?" questioned Emma apprehensively.
"Me put cover over top," answered the Indian, whose stolid expressionless face was peering in at them. "No rain come along. You like?"
Miss Briggs got up and offered her hand to him.
"We do, Willy. But why do you do so much for us?" she asked.
"Willy's Big Friends," he answered gruffly, and started to back out, but the girls would not let him go until each had shaken hands with him and thanked him.
"By the way, where do you live?" wondered Nora.
"Summer time live on reservation. Hunting time live up here in tepee. Me show. Me go hunting, too. Mebby shoot deer, mebby big moose. Bye!"
Grace Got One Spill and Essayed Another Attempt.Grace Got One Spill and Essayed Another Attempt.
"Oh, don't go away," begged Grace. "We like to have you here, and I wish, too, that you would let me paddle that beautiful canoe. It is the first bark canoe I have ever seen. I know how to paddle a modern canoe, but I saw this morning that the bark boat is an entirely different craft. Will you teach me?"
"Me show. Go meet Big Friend now."
"Bring him back with you, Willy," urged Grace, but the Indian already had withdrawn, and when they looked out he had gone.
"Hey, you folks!" called Hippy, who was grooming Hindenburg with a horse brush. "Where is the dinner?"
Grace said she had forgotten all about it, and that Mrs. Shafto had gone out to try to shoot a duck.
"In the meantime we starve, eh? Hindenburg is so hungry that his sides are caving in, and the bear has gone out into the woods to eat leaves. By the way, Willy Hoss's canoe is down yonder hidden under the bushes. He said you were to use it, Grace. He has gone away."
After dinner, which was more in the nature of a luncheon, Mrs. Shafto came into camp with three ducks which she had shot, and promised her charges that they should have stuffed roast duck for supper.
That afternoon Grace tried the canoe. Shegot one spill and was soaked to the skin, but crawled back to shore laughing at her mishap, and essayed another attempt.
"I thought my canoe was cranky, but this beats everything," she called to her companions as she again floated out on the stream in the bark canoe. The Overland girl practiced for half an hour, during which she got the hang of the cranky bark canoe and did very well paddling it.
"Let me try it," begged Emma.
"You will not," objected Hippy. "Think I want to plunge into that cold water and rescue you?"
"Do you think I am simple enough to fall in?" demanded Emma indignantly.
"Yes, and as often as I could pull you out. Then again, you would lose yourself listening to the voices of nature and get into a fine, wet mess. That nature stuff makes me weary."
Emma did not paddle the canoe that day, nor did any of the others express a desire to do so. They saw no more of the Indian that day, and that night the girls spread their blankets in the tepee.
"We must have a fire in here for the sake of cheerfulness," urged Anne.
"Yes. And burn ourselves up," objected Emma.
"There should be no danger unless we roll into the fire in our sleep," answered Miss Briggs.
A small fire was kindled in the tepee, and, for a long time after they had gone in for the night, the Overland girls sat with feet doubled under them, enjoying the novel sensation of having for their use a real Indian tepee, and listening to Joe Shafto relate some of her experiences in the Big North Woods.
The conversation was interrupted by Henry who poked his nose into the tepee and sniffed the air inquisitively. A slight tap on his nose by the guide sent the bear scampering away. After a hearty laugh at Henry's expense, the girls rolled up in their blankets and went to sleep not to awaken again until sunrise, when they were jolted out of their dreams by a loud halloo.
CHAPTER XVIIITHE TRAIL OF THE PIRATES
"Tom's here!" shouted Grace. "All right, Tom. We will be out as soon as we can find our way out of this roundhouse," she laughed, feeling for the opening that, in the subdued light, looked like all the rest of the tepee wall.
Tom was bronzed and happy, and after greeting the girls he inquired for Henry and Hindenburg.
"The bear's out lookin' for his breakfast," answered the forest woman.
"And the bull pup is asleep. He keeps bankers' hours instead of attending to his business," complained Emma.
After breakfast Tom told them of his work in the forest, adding that he had observed evidences of the recent presence of timber-pirates.
"That is, I have found their blazes, secret cuttings on trees in remote sections. This discovery I have marked on the map, and will inform the authorities after I have finished 'cruising' the Pineries. This afternoon I shall worknorth to look over some virgin forest ground near here. Come along with me, won't you, Hippy?"
"Sure thing. We'll take Hindenburg for protection," agreed Hippy.
"Why not take the rest of the party?" suggested Grace.
"This is a business trip," replied Tom. "Of course you can go if you wish, but it were better not, for we shall have to rough it in the real sense of the word. Willy wants to go out with me, and may join us up river sometime to-day."
"Where is the measly redskin, Cap'n?" demanded Joe.
"He has gone downstream. Willy has a camp a short distance below here. That Indian is a real man."
"We have found him so," agreed Elfreda.
Joe Shafto grunted disdainfully.
Tom remained at the camp until after dinner, replenished his supplies, including a stuffed duck which the forest woman prepared for him; then he and Hippy set out on their ponies for up-river points.
"What is in the wind, Tom?" questioned Lieutenant Wingate after they got under way. "I know you had some good reason other than merely desiring my company, or you would not have asked me to go with you."
Tom laughed heartily.
"A little of both, Lieutenant. I hear that timber-pirates have been making some cuttings above here, and I wish you to go along as a witness to what I may find. That's all."
"No scraps in sight, eh?"
"Oh, no."
Hippy sighed.
"Tell me about it."
"Timber thieves seek the remote places and look for suitable plots that can be cut off and floated downstream to the mills. There the logs are thrown in with other logs, and branded on one end to correspond with such logs as have been procured in a legitimate way. Should the pirates be discovered, they frequently buy the plot, if they represent a big concern, and nothing more is done so far as the authorities are concerned."
"You don't mean to say that reputable lumber companies go in for anything of that sort, do you?" wondered Hippy.
"I did not say 'reputable.' Of course not. All big concerns are not necessarily reputable in the sense you mean, but there is many a man to-day who holds his head high in the world, though the foundation of his business was stolen timber."
Hippy uttered a low whistle of amazement.
"Look there!" exclaimed Tom Gray late in the afternoon as they rode into a "cutting" from which the timber had been removed. Several acres had been cut off, and skidways built up for more extensive operations, probably for that very season.
Upon consulting his map, the forester found, as he had expected, that the timber was not charted as belonging to private individuals. Tom pointed to a man-made dam in the river. It had been constructed of spiles—small logs, driven in like posts, set so that they leaned upstream. The water gates were open, and, upon examination, showed that logs had been floated there, for the marks of the logs were visible on the sides of the gates and on the tops of the spiles. Added to this, the floor of the dam was covered with last season's logs, hundreds of them.
"Will you please tell me why a dam is necessary to lumbering?" questioned Lieutenant Wingate.
"To provide a good head of water on which to float logs down to the mills when the river is low. The logs are dumped into the dam until it is full; the gates are then opened and the logs go booming down towards the mills. To be fully equipped there should be a second dam above this one to wash down such timber as fails to clear. We will go on further and see what we find."
They found the second dam, constructed across the river at a narrow spot. It had been quite recently built, as Tom Gray found upon examining the spiles and comparing their age with those of the lower dam.
"This looks to me like a fine piece of timber," he announced with a sweeping gesture that took in the great trees that surrounded them. "We will cruise as far as we can before dark and go over the rest of the section to-morrow."
"And you believe 'pirates' are trying to hog all they can of it, do you?" questioned Hippy.
"There can be no doubt of it. We have evidence of that."
"Suppose some one should step in and buy the section—what then?"
"It would serve the robbers right," declared Tom Gray with emphasis.
"What is the section worth?"
"Too much money for us. Say fifty to seventy-five thousand dollars, or even more if it is owned by private persons. If the state owns it, the latter figure probably would be about what one would have to pay for the timber rights."
"At the latter price how much could a fellow expect to clear on the deal?" persisted Hippy.
Tom said it would depend upon whether one sold the logs delivered at the mill, or worked them into lumber at his own mill. It was his opinionthat the holder should earn a profit of a hundred thousand dollars or more, in the latter instance, provided he had proper shipping facilities.
"Of course, here you have the river on which to float your logs down to the mill, which should be located at or near the lakes," added Tom.
"Look it over carefully to-morrow. I am getting interested to know more about the lumber business. One can't have too much knowledge, you know. Now that we have sold our coal lands in Kentucky, you and I are interested in high finance. Eh, Tom?"
"Thanks to you, Hippy, we are."
The coal lands to which Hippy referred were part of an estate that had been willed to him by an admiring uncle while Lieutenant Wingate was a member of the United States Army Air Forces in France. The Overland Riders had made the Kentucky Mountains the scene of their summer's outing the year before their present journey, and there experienced many stirring adventures. Hippy, at first, decided to work the mines himself, with Tom Gray as his partner, but that winter they received an offer for the property and sold it outright for a large sum of money, which Lieutenant Wingate insisted they should share equally.
The two friends, after sitting about their campfire until a late hour that night discussingthe subject that had taken strong hold of Hippy's mind, lay down to sleep in the open.
Immediately after breakfast next morning Tom and Hippy started out to make a thorough "cruise" of the pine trees in the section from which a few acres of logs had been cut. They finished their work late in the afternoon, but Tom did not venture a further opinion on what he had seen until they were on their way to their camp, where they had decided to remain another night.
"Well?" demanded Hippy finally. "Speak up! How about it, Tom?"
"Hippy, you have looked upon the finest plot of virgin timber to be found anywhere outside the states of Oregon and Washington. I wish someone would buy it and beat those pirates out. It is a burning shame to let them get away with it."
"Where would one have to go to find out about it?"
"St. Paul, possibly. Why?"
"I was just wondering, that's all," answered Lieutenant Wingate thoughtfully.
Hippy asked who owned the timber adjoining the section, but Tom did not know that any individual owned it because the map showed that it was still a part of the state forest reserve.
"You see these maps were issued some months ago, and many changes may have taken placein that time, though they are really supposed to be up to date."
"Is Willy likely to be up here to-day, Tom?"
"No. I asked him to keep within easy reach of the Overland camp at night while we are away."
Willy, being a man of his word, guarded the Overland camp jealously for two nights, but on the morning of the next day, just before daybreak, he started to go upstream and look for the two absent men, his understanding being that they were to be away but one night. He was hiking along the river bank when Hippy, who had remained with the horses while his companion went into the forest for a final brief survey before starting for home, discovered the Indian who hailed him.
"How do?" greeted the Indian.
"Nothing wrong at camp, is there?" questioned the Overland Rider anxiously.
"No. Me come see where Big Friends go."
"That is fine. You are just the man I wish to see. Who cut off this timber, Willy?" indicating the cutting that he and Tom had first discovered.
"Not know. Somebody steal um."
"That is what Captain Gray says. Perhaps it was cut by a new owner—someone who has bought this plot, Willy."
The Indian, gazing on the stumps in the clearingwith expressionless eyes, shook his head slowly.
"This section belongs to the state, I think," ventured Hippy.
"No belong state."
"Who, then?"
"Belong Chief Iron-Toe. Him Chippewa chief—Big Chief."
Lieutenant Wingate became instantly alert.
"Are you positive of that, Willy?"
The Indian nodded.
"Do you know the gentleman with the iron toe?"
"Him my father."
Hippy was a little taken back by the answer, but his eagerness for more information overcame what might have become embarrassment.
"Your father! Do you think he would sell the section?" he asked eagerly.
"No sell."
"But I wish to buy it, Willy."
"You buy?" questioned the Indian, regarding Lieutenant Wingate thoughtfully.
"Yes."
"You Big Friend. Me fix."
"Do you mean it?"
"Me fix."
"Good. When?"
"Next sun-up. We go Chippewa Reservation."
"How far?"
"Two sun ride."
"Say nothing to anyone about this. I'll say whatever is necessary to my friends. You wake me when you think best to start for the Chippewa Reservation to-morrow morning and we will be off. Want a horse, Willy?"
"Me take pony."
It was settled, and on the way back to the camp of the Overlanders during that afternoon Hippy confided his plan to Tom Gray, but Tom was doubtful of its success. He said he already knew what Hippy had had in mind, and that if he were able to buy the section for anything within reason there would be a fortune in it.
"Will you go in on the deal with me?" asked Hippy.
"Yes, if you keep within my resources. Thanks to you for letting me in on your coal land deal in Kentucky I have some funds that I can use. That was like giving the money to me, and I have been ashamed of myself ever since for letting you drag me into any such deal."
"Chop it, Tom. As Willy would say, 'You Big Friend.' Say nothing to any of the folks, unless you wish to confide in Grace. I shall, of course, tell Nora where I am going and why."
During the rest of the journey back to the Overland camp, the two men discussed the planof action that Hippy should follow—provided he got the timber plot—the hiring of men and the purchase of equipment, and, by the time they had reached the Overland camp, all details were settled. Nothing was said to either Grace or Nora until that evening, when the two Overland men confided their plans to their wives.
Next morning, before the camp was astir, the Indian had awakened Lieutenant Wingate and the man and the Indian had ridden away in the dark of the early morning.