Chapter Thirteen.“Shooskin’.”Next day Roy and Nelly rose with the sun, and spent the forenoon in skinning and cutting up the bear, for they intended to dry part of the meat, and use it on their journey. The afternoon was spent in dragging the various parts to the hut. In the evening Roy proposed that they should go and have a shoosk. Nelly agreed, so they sallied forth to a neighbouring slope with their sledge.Shoosking, good reader, is a game which is played not only by children but by men and women; it is also played in various parts of the world, such as Canada and Russia, and goes by various names; but we shall adopt the name used byourhero and heroine, namely “shoosking.” It is very simple, but uncommonly violent, and consists in hauling a sledge to the top of a snow-hill or slope, getting upon it, and sliding down to the bottom. Of course, the extent of violence depends on the steepness of the slope, the interruptions that occur in it, and the nature of the ground at the bottom. We once shoosked with an Indian down a wood-cutter’s track, on the side of a steep hill, which had a sharp turn in it, with a pile of firewood at the turn, and a hole in the snow at the bottom, in which were a number of old empty casks. Our great difficulties in this place were to take the turn without grazing the firewood, and to stop our sledges before reaching the hole. We each had separate sledges. For some time we got on famously, but at lastweran into the pile of firewood, and tore all the buttons off our coat, and the Indian went down into the hole with a hideous crash among the empty casks; yet, strange to say, neither of us came by any serious damage!“There’s a splendid slope,” said Roy, as they walked briskly along the shores of Silver Lake, dragging the sledge after them, “just beyond the big cliff, but I’m afraid it’s too much foryou.”“Oh,Ican go if you can,” said Nell, promptly.“You’ve a good opinion of yourself. I guess I could make you sing small if I were to try.”“Then don’t try,” said Nelly, with a laugh.“See,” continued Roy, “there’s the slope; you see it is very steep; we’d go down it like a streak of greased lightnin’; but I don’t like to try it.”“Why not? It seems easy enough to me. I’m sure we have gone down as steep places before at home.”“Ay, lass, but not with a round-backed drift like that at the bottom. It has got such a curve that I think it would make us fly right up into the air.”Nelly admitted that it looked dangerous, but suggested that they might make a trial.“Well, so we will, but I’ll go down by myself first,” said Roy, arranging the sledge at the summit of a slope, which was full fifty feet high.“Now, then, pick up the bits tenderly, Nell, if I’m knocked to pieces; here goes, hurrah!”Roy had seated himself on the sledge, with his feet resting on the head of it, and holding on to the side-lines with both hands firmly. He pushed off as he cheered, and the next moment was flying down the hill at railway speed, with a cloud of snow-drift rolling like steam behind him. He reached the foot, and the impetus sent him up and over the snow-drift or wave, and far out upon the surface of the lake. It is true he made one or two violent swerves in this wild descent, owing to inequalities in the hill, but by a touch of his hands in the snow on either side, he guided the sledge, as with a rudder, and reached the foot in safety.“May I venture, Roy?” inquired Nell, eagerly, as the lad came panting up the hill.“Venture! Of course. I rose off the top o’ the drift only a little bit, hardly felt the crack at all; come, get you on in front, and I’ll sit at yer back an’ steer.”Nelly needed no second bidding. She sat down and seized the side-lines of the sledge with a look of what we may call wild expectation; Roy sat down behind her.“Now, lass, steady, and away we go!”At the last word they shot from the hill-top like an arrow from a bow. The cloud of snow behind them rolled thicker, for the sledge was more heavily laden than before. Owing to the same cause it plunged into the hollow at the foot of the hill with greater violence, and shot up the slope of the snow-drift and over its crest with such force that it sprung horizontally forward for a few feet in the air, and came to the ground with a crash that extracted a loud gasp from Roy, and a sharp squeak from Nelly. It was found to be so delightful, however, that they tried it again and again, each time becoming more expert, and therefore more confident.Excessive confidence, however, frequently engenders carelessness. Roy soon became reckless; Nelly waxed fearless. The result was that the former steered somewhat wildly, and finally upset.Their last “shoosk” that evening was undertaken just as the sun’s latest rays were shooting between the hills on the opposite side of Silver Lake, and casting a crimson glow on the hut and the surrounding scenery. Roy had fixed a snow-shoe on the outer ridge of the snow-drift, to mark the distance of their last leap from its crest, and had given the sledge an extra push on the way down to increase its impetus. This extra push disconcerted him in steering; he reached the hollow in a side-long fashion, shot up the slope of the drift waveringly, and left its crest with a swing that not only turned the sledge right round, but also upside down. Of course they were both thrown off, and all three fell into the snow in a condition of dire confusion. Fortunately, no damage was done beyond the shock and the fright, but this accident was sufficient to calm their spirits, and incline them to go home to supper.“Well, it’s great fun, no doubt, but we must turn our minds to more earnest work, for our journey lies before us,” said Roy, with the gravity of an Iroquois warrior, as he sat beside the fire that night discussing a bear-steak with his sister. “We have more than enough of fish and meat, you see; a day or two will do to turn our deer and bear into dried meat; the snow-shoes are mended, the sledge is in good order, as to-night’s work has proved, and all that we’ve got to do is to start fresh with true bearin’s and—hey! for home!”“I wish I was there,” said Nelly, laying down a marrow-bone with a sigh.“Wishin’ ain’t enough, Nell.”“I know that, an’ I’m ready to work,” said Nelly, resuming the bone with a resolute air. “When shall we set out?”“When we are ready, lass. We shall begin to dry the meat to-morrow, an’ as soon as it’s fixed—off we’ll start. I only hope the cold weather will last, for if it came warm it would go hard with your little feet, Nell. But let’s turn in now. Hard work requires a good sleep, an’ it may be that we’ve harder work than we think before us.”
Next day Roy and Nelly rose with the sun, and spent the forenoon in skinning and cutting up the bear, for they intended to dry part of the meat, and use it on their journey. The afternoon was spent in dragging the various parts to the hut. In the evening Roy proposed that they should go and have a shoosk. Nelly agreed, so they sallied forth to a neighbouring slope with their sledge.
Shoosking, good reader, is a game which is played not only by children but by men and women; it is also played in various parts of the world, such as Canada and Russia, and goes by various names; but we shall adopt the name used byourhero and heroine, namely “shoosking.” It is very simple, but uncommonly violent, and consists in hauling a sledge to the top of a snow-hill or slope, getting upon it, and sliding down to the bottom. Of course, the extent of violence depends on the steepness of the slope, the interruptions that occur in it, and the nature of the ground at the bottom. We once shoosked with an Indian down a wood-cutter’s track, on the side of a steep hill, which had a sharp turn in it, with a pile of firewood at the turn, and a hole in the snow at the bottom, in which were a number of old empty casks. Our great difficulties in this place were to take the turn without grazing the firewood, and to stop our sledges before reaching the hole. We each had separate sledges. For some time we got on famously, but at lastweran into the pile of firewood, and tore all the buttons off our coat, and the Indian went down into the hole with a hideous crash among the empty casks; yet, strange to say, neither of us came by any serious damage!
“There’s a splendid slope,” said Roy, as they walked briskly along the shores of Silver Lake, dragging the sledge after them, “just beyond the big cliff, but I’m afraid it’s too much foryou.”
“Oh,Ican go if you can,” said Nell, promptly.
“You’ve a good opinion of yourself. I guess I could make you sing small if I were to try.”
“Then don’t try,” said Nelly, with a laugh.
“See,” continued Roy, “there’s the slope; you see it is very steep; we’d go down it like a streak of greased lightnin’; but I don’t like to try it.”
“Why not? It seems easy enough to me. I’m sure we have gone down as steep places before at home.”
“Ay, lass, but not with a round-backed drift like that at the bottom. It has got such a curve that I think it would make us fly right up into the air.”
Nelly admitted that it looked dangerous, but suggested that they might make a trial.
“Well, so we will, but I’ll go down by myself first,” said Roy, arranging the sledge at the summit of a slope, which was full fifty feet high.
“Now, then, pick up the bits tenderly, Nell, if I’m knocked to pieces; here goes, hurrah!”
Roy had seated himself on the sledge, with his feet resting on the head of it, and holding on to the side-lines with both hands firmly. He pushed off as he cheered, and the next moment was flying down the hill at railway speed, with a cloud of snow-drift rolling like steam behind him. He reached the foot, and the impetus sent him up and over the snow-drift or wave, and far out upon the surface of the lake. It is true he made one or two violent swerves in this wild descent, owing to inequalities in the hill, but by a touch of his hands in the snow on either side, he guided the sledge, as with a rudder, and reached the foot in safety.
“May I venture, Roy?” inquired Nell, eagerly, as the lad came panting up the hill.
“Venture! Of course. I rose off the top o’ the drift only a little bit, hardly felt the crack at all; come, get you on in front, and I’ll sit at yer back an’ steer.”
Nelly needed no second bidding. She sat down and seized the side-lines of the sledge with a look of what we may call wild expectation; Roy sat down behind her.
“Now, lass, steady, and away we go!”
At the last word they shot from the hill-top like an arrow from a bow. The cloud of snow behind them rolled thicker, for the sledge was more heavily laden than before. Owing to the same cause it plunged into the hollow at the foot of the hill with greater violence, and shot up the slope of the snow-drift and over its crest with such force that it sprung horizontally forward for a few feet in the air, and came to the ground with a crash that extracted a loud gasp from Roy, and a sharp squeak from Nelly. It was found to be so delightful, however, that they tried it again and again, each time becoming more expert, and therefore more confident.
Excessive confidence, however, frequently engenders carelessness. Roy soon became reckless; Nelly waxed fearless. The result was that the former steered somewhat wildly, and finally upset.
Their last “shoosk” that evening was undertaken just as the sun’s latest rays were shooting between the hills on the opposite side of Silver Lake, and casting a crimson glow on the hut and the surrounding scenery. Roy had fixed a snow-shoe on the outer ridge of the snow-drift, to mark the distance of their last leap from its crest, and had given the sledge an extra push on the way down to increase its impetus. This extra push disconcerted him in steering; he reached the hollow in a side-long fashion, shot up the slope of the drift waveringly, and left its crest with a swing that not only turned the sledge right round, but also upside down. Of course they were both thrown off, and all three fell into the snow in a condition of dire confusion. Fortunately, no damage was done beyond the shock and the fright, but this accident was sufficient to calm their spirits, and incline them to go home to supper.
“Well, it’s great fun, no doubt, but we must turn our minds to more earnest work, for our journey lies before us,” said Roy, with the gravity of an Iroquois warrior, as he sat beside the fire that night discussing a bear-steak with his sister. “We have more than enough of fish and meat, you see; a day or two will do to turn our deer and bear into dried meat; the snow-shoes are mended, the sledge is in good order, as to-night’s work has proved, and all that we’ve got to do is to start fresh with true bearin’s and—hey! for home!”
“I wish I was there,” said Nelly, laying down a marrow-bone with a sigh.
“Wishin’ ain’t enough, Nell.”
“I know that, an’ I’m ready to work,” said Nelly, resuming the bone with a resolute air. “When shall we set out?”
“When we are ready, lass. We shall begin to dry the meat to-morrow, an’ as soon as it’s fixed—off we’ll start. I only hope the cold weather will last, for if it came warm it would go hard with your little feet, Nell. But let’s turn in now. Hard work requires a good sleep, an’ it may be that we’ve harder work than we think before us.”
Chapter Fourteen.The Journey Home Resumed and Interrupted.Three days more and our young friends bade farewell to Silver Lake.Short though their stay had been, it had proved very pleasant, for it was full of energetic labour and active preparation, besides a great deal of amusement, so that quite a home feeling had been aroused in their minds, and their regret at leaving was considerable.But after the first few miles of their journey had been accomplished, the feeling of sadness with which they set out wore away, and hopeful anticipations of being home again in a few weeks rendered them cheerful, and enabled them to proceed with vigour. The weather at starting was fine, too, so that the night encampments in the snow were comparatively agreeable, and the progress made during the first few days was satisfactory.After this, however, the good fortune of our adventurers seemed to desert them. First of all one of Nelly’s snow-shoes broke down. This necessitated a halt of half a day, in order to have it repaired. Then one of Roy’s snow-shoes gave way, which caused another halt. After this a heavy snow-storm set in, rendering the walking very difficult, as they sank, snow-shoes and all, nearly to the knees at each step. A storm of wind which arose about the same time, effectually stopped their farther advance, and obliged them to take to the shelter of a dense part of the woods and encamp.During three days and three nights the hurricane raged, and the snow was blown up in the air and whirled about like the foam of the roaring sea; but our wanderers did not feel its effects much, for they had chosen a very sheltered spot at the foot of a large pine, which grew in a hollow, where a cliff on one side and a bluff of wood on the other rendered the blast powerless. Its fierce howling could be heard, however, if not felt; and as the brother and sister lay at the bottom of their hole in the snow, with their toes to the comfortable fire, they chatted much more cheerily than might have been expected in the midst of such a scene, and gazed upward from time to time with comparative indifference at the dark clouds and snow-drifts that were rushing madly overhead.On the fourth day the gale subsided almost as quickly as it had arisen, and Roy announced that it was his intention to start. In a few minutes everything was packed up and ready.“I say, Nell,” said Roy, just as they were about to leave the camp, “don’t the sled look smaller than it used to?”“So it does, Roy; but I suppose it’s because we have eaten so much during the last three days.”Roy shook his head, and looked carefully round the hole they were about to quit.“Don’t know, lass; it seems to me as if somethin’ was a-wantin’. Did ye pack your own bundle very tight?”“Yes; I think I did it tighter than usual, but I’m not very sure.”“Hum—that’s it, no doubt—we’ve packed the sled tighter, and eaten it down. Well, let’s off now.”So saying, Roy threw the lines of the sledge over his shoulder and led the way, followed by his sister, whose only burden was a light blanket, fastened as a bundle to her shoulders, and a small tin can, which hung at her belt.The country through which they passed that day was almost destitute of wood, being a series of undulating plains, with clumps of willows and stunted trees scattered over it like islets in the sea. The land lay in a succession of ridges, or steppes, which descended from the elevated region they were leaving, and many parts of these ridges terminated abruptly in sheer precipices from forty to sixty feet high.The sun shone with dazzling brilliancy, insomuch that the travellers’ eyes became slightly affected by snow-blindness. This temporary blindness is very common in these regions, and ranges from the point of slight dazzlement to that of total blindness; fortunately it is curable by the removal of the cause—the bright light of the sun on pure snow. Esquimaux use “goggles” or spectacles made of wood, with a narrow slit in them as a preventive of snow-blindness.At first neither Roy nor Nelly felt much inconvenience, but towards evening they could not see as distinctly as usual. One consequence of this was, that they approached a precipice without seeing it. The snow on its crest was so like to the plain of snow extending far below, that it might have deceived one whose eyesight was not in any degree impaired.The first intimation they had of their danger was the giving way of the snow that projected over the edge of the precipice. Roy fell over headlong, dragging the sledge with him. Nelly, who was a few feet behind him, stood on the extreme edge of the precipice, with the points of her snow-shoes projecting over it. Roy uttered a cry as he fell, and his sister stopped short. A shock of terror blanched her cheek and caused her heart to stand still. She could not move or cry for a few seconds, then she uttered a loud shriek and shrank backwards.There chanced to be a stout bush or tree growing on the face of the cliff, not ten feet below the spot where the snow-wreath had broken off. Roy caught at this convulsively, and held on. Fortunately the line on his shoulder broke, and the sledge fell into the abyss below. Had this not happened, it is probable that he would have been dragged from his hold of the bush. As it was, he maintained his hold, and hung for a few seconds suspended in the air. Nelly’s shriek revived him from the gush of deadly terror that seized him when he fell. He grasped the boughs above him, and was quickly in a position of comparative security among the branches of the bush.“All right, Nell,” he gasped, on hearing her repeat her cry of despair. “I’m holdin’ on quite safe. Keep back from the edge, lass—there’s no fear o’ me.”“Are you sure, Roy?” cried Nelly, trembling very much, as she stretched forward to try to catch sight of her brother.“Ay, quite sure; but I can’t get up, for there’s six feet o’ smooth rock above me, an’ nothin’ to climb up by.”“Oh! whatshallI do!” cried Nelly.“Don’t get flurried—that’s the main thing, lass. Let me think—ay, that’s it—you’ve got your belt?”“Yes.”“Well, take it off and drop the end over to me; but lie down on your breast, and be careful.”Nelly obeyed, and in a few seconds the end of the worsted belt that usually encircled her waist was dangling almost within reach of her brother. This belt was above five feet long. Roy wore one of similar material and length. He untied it, and then sought to lay hold of the other. With some difficulty and much risk of falling he succeeded, and fastened his own belt to it firmly.“Now, Nell, haul up a little bit—hold! enough.”“What am I to do now?” asked Nell, piteously; “I cannot pull you up, you know.”“Of course not; but take your snow-shoe and dig down to the rocks—you’ll find somethin’, I dare say, to tie the belts to. Cheer up, lass, and go at it.”Thus encouraged, the active little girl soon cleared away the snow until she reached the ground, where she found several roots of shrubs that seemed quite strong enough for her purpose. To one of these she tied the end of her belt, and Roy, being an athletic lad, hauled himself up, hand over hand, until he gained a place of safety.“But the sledge is gone,” cried Nelly, pausing suddenly in the midst of her congratulations.“Ay, and the grub,” said Roy, with a blank look.This was indeed too true, and on examination it was found that things were even worse than had been anticipated, for the sledge had fallen on a ledge, half way down the precipice, that was absolutely inaccessible either from above or below. An hour was spent in ascertaining this, beyond all doubt, and then Roy determined to return at once to their last encampment to gather the scraps they had thrown away or left behind as useless.That night they went supperless to rest. Next morning, they set out with heavy hearts for the encampment of the previous day. On reaching it, and searching carefully, they found that one of the bundles of dry meat had been forgotten. This accounted for the lightness of the sledge, and, at the same time, revived their drooping spirits.“What is to be done now?” inquired Nelly.“Return to Silver Lake,” said Roy, promptly. “We must go back, fish and hunt again until we have another supply o’ grub, and then begin our journey once more.”Sadly and slowly they retraced their steps. Do what he would Roy could not cheer up his sister’s spirits. She felt that her back was turned towards her father’s house—her mother’s home—and every step took her farther from it.It was a lovely evening, about sunset, when they reached Silver Lake, and found the hut as they had left it, and enough of old scraps of provisions to afford a sufficient meal.That night they ate their supper in a more cheerful frame of mind. Next day they breakfasted almost with a feeling of heartiness, and when they went out to resume their fishing, and to set snares and make traps, the old feeling of hopefulness returned. Ere long, hope became again so strong in their ardent young hearts, that they laughed and talked and sported as they had done during the period of their first residence there.At first they were so anxious to make up the lost quantity of food that they did little else but fish, hunt, and dry their provisions when obtained; but after a few days they had procured such an ample supply that they took to shoosking again—having succeeded in making a new sledge. But a thaw came suddenly and spoiled all their fish. A wolf carried off the greater part of their dried meat one day while they were absent from the hut. After this the frost set in with extreme violence, game became more scarce, and fish did not take the bait so readily, so that, although they procured more than enough for present consumption, they were slow in accumulating a travelling store; and thus it came to pass that November found Roy and Nelly still toiling wearily, yet hopefully, on the shores of Silver Lake.
Three days more and our young friends bade farewell to Silver Lake.
Short though their stay had been, it had proved very pleasant, for it was full of energetic labour and active preparation, besides a great deal of amusement, so that quite a home feeling had been aroused in their minds, and their regret at leaving was considerable.
But after the first few miles of their journey had been accomplished, the feeling of sadness with which they set out wore away, and hopeful anticipations of being home again in a few weeks rendered them cheerful, and enabled them to proceed with vigour. The weather at starting was fine, too, so that the night encampments in the snow were comparatively agreeable, and the progress made during the first few days was satisfactory.
After this, however, the good fortune of our adventurers seemed to desert them. First of all one of Nelly’s snow-shoes broke down. This necessitated a halt of half a day, in order to have it repaired. Then one of Roy’s snow-shoes gave way, which caused another halt. After this a heavy snow-storm set in, rendering the walking very difficult, as they sank, snow-shoes and all, nearly to the knees at each step. A storm of wind which arose about the same time, effectually stopped their farther advance, and obliged them to take to the shelter of a dense part of the woods and encamp.
During three days and three nights the hurricane raged, and the snow was blown up in the air and whirled about like the foam of the roaring sea; but our wanderers did not feel its effects much, for they had chosen a very sheltered spot at the foot of a large pine, which grew in a hollow, where a cliff on one side and a bluff of wood on the other rendered the blast powerless. Its fierce howling could be heard, however, if not felt; and as the brother and sister lay at the bottom of their hole in the snow, with their toes to the comfortable fire, they chatted much more cheerily than might have been expected in the midst of such a scene, and gazed upward from time to time with comparative indifference at the dark clouds and snow-drifts that were rushing madly overhead.
On the fourth day the gale subsided almost as quickly as it had arisen, and Roy announced that it was his intention to start. In a few minutes everything was packed up and ready.
“I say, Nell,” said Roy, just as they were about to leave the camp, “don’t the sled look smaller than it used to?”
“So it does, Roy; but I suppose it’s because we have eaten so much during the last three days.”
Roy shook his head, and looked carefully round the hole they were about to quit.
“Don’t know, lass; it seems to me as if somethin’ was a-wantin’. Did ye pack your own bundle very tight?”
“Yes; I think I did it tighter than usual, but I’m not very sure.”
“Hum—that’s it, no doubt—we’ve packed the sled tighter, and eaten it down. Well, let’s off now.”
So saying, Roy threw the lines of the sledge over his shoulder and led the way, followed by his sister, whose only burden was a light blanket, fastened as a bundle to her shoulders, and a small tin can, which hung at her belt.
The country through which they passed that day was almost destitute of wood, being a series of undulating plains, with clumps of willows and stunted trees scattered over it like islets in the sea. The land lay in a succession of ridges, or steppes, which descended from the elevated region they were leaving, and many parts of these ridges terminated abruptly in sheer precipices from forty to sixty feet high.
The sun shone with dazzling brilliancy, insomuch that the travellers’ eyes became slightly affected by snow-blindness. This temporary blindness is very common in these regions, and ranges from the point of slight dazzlement to that of total blindness; fortunately it is curable by the removal of the cause—the bright light of the sun on pure snow. Esquimaux use “goggles” or spectacles made of wood, with a narrow slit in them as a preventive of snow-blindness.
At first neither Roy nor Nelly felt much inconvenience, but towards evening they could not see as distinctly as usual. One consequence of this was, that they approached a precipice without seeing it. The snow on its crest was so like to the plain of snow extending far below, that it might have deceived one whose eyesight was not in any degree impaired.
The first intimation they had of their danger was the giving way of the snow that projected over the edge of the precipice. Roy fell over headlong, dragging the sledge with him. Nelly, who was a few feet behind him, stood on the extreme edge of the precipice, with the points of her snow-shoes projecting over it. Roy uttered a cry as he fell, and his sister stopped short. A shock of terror blanched her cheek and caused her heart to stand still. She could not move or cry for a few seconds, then she uttered a loud shriek and shrank backwards.
There chanced to be a stout bush or tree growing on the face of the cliff, not ten feet below the spot where the snow-wreath had broken off. Roy caught at this convulsively, and held on. Fortunately the line on his shoulder broke, and the sledge fell into the abyss below. Had this not happened, it is probable that he would have been dragged from his hold of the bush. As it was, he maintained his hold, and hung for a few seconds suspended in the air. Nelly’s shriek revived him from the gush of deadly terror that seized him when he fell. He grasped the boughs above him, and was quickly in a position of comparative security among the branches of the bush.
“All right, Nell,” he gasped, on hearing her repeat her cry of despair. “I’m holdin’ on quite safe. Keep back from the edge, lass—there’s no fear o’ me.”
“Are you sure, Roy?” cried Nelly, trembling very much, as she stretched forward to try to catch sight of her brother.
“Ay, quite sure; but I can’t get up, for there’s six feet o’ smooth rock above me, an’ nothin’ to climb up by.”
“Oh! whatshallI do!” cried Nelly.
“Don’t get flurried—that’s the main thing, lass. Let me think—ay, that’s it—you’ve got your belt?”
“Yes.”
“Well, take it off and drop the end over to me; but lie down on your breast, and be careful.”
Nelly obeyed, and in a few seconds the end of the worsted belt that usually encircled her waist was dangling almost within reach of her brother. This belt was above five feet long. Roy wore one of similar material and length. He untied it, and then sought to lay hold of the other. With some difficulty and much risk of falling he succeeded, and fastened his own belt to it firmly.
“Now, Nell, haul up a little bit—hold! enough.”
“What am I to do now?” asked Nell, piteously; “I cannot pull you up, you know.”
“Of course not; but take your snow-shoe and dig down to the rocks—you’ll find somethin’, I dare say, to tie the belts to. Cheer up, lass, and go at it.”
Thus encouraged, the active little girl soon cleared away the snow until she reached the ground, where she found several roots of shrubs that seemed quite strong enough for her purpose. To one of these she tied the end of her belt, and Roy, being an athletic lad, hauled himself up, hand over hand, until he gained a place of safety.
“But the sledge is gone,” cried Nelly, pausing suddenly in the midst of her congratulations.
“Ay, and the grub,” said Roy, with a blank look.
This was indeed too true, and on examination it was found that things were even worse than had been anticipated, for the sledge had fallen on a ledge, half way down the precipice, that was absolutely inaccessible either from above or below. An hour was spent in ascertaining this, beyond all doubt, and then Roy determined to return at once to their last encampment to gather the scraps they had thrown away or left behind as useless.
That night they went supperless to rest. Next morning, they set out with heavy hearts for the encampment of the previous day. On reaching it, and searching carefully, they found that one of the bundles of dry meat had been forgotten. This accounted for the lightness of the sledge, and, at the same time, revived their drooping spirits.
“What is to be done now?” inquired Nelly.
“Return to Silver Lake,” said Roy, promptly. “We must go back, fish and hunt again until we have another supply o’ grub, and then begin our journey once more.”
Sadly and slowly they retraced their steps. Do what he would Roy could not cheer up his sister’s spirits. She felt that her back was turned towards her father’s house—her mother’s home—and every step took her farther from it.
It was a lovely evening, about sunset, when they reached Silver Lake, and found the hut as they had left it, and enough of old scraps of provisions to afford a sufficient meal.
That night they ate their supper in a more cheerful frame of mind. Next day they breakfasted almost with a feeling of heartiness, and when they went out to resume their fishing, and to set snares and make traps, the old feeling of hopefulness returned. Ere long, hope became again so strong in their ardent young hearts, that they laughed and talked and sported as they had done during the period of their first residence there.
At first they were so anxious to make up the lost quantity of food that they did little else but fish, hunt, and dry their provisions when obtained; but after a few days they had procured such an ample supply that they took to shoosking again—having succeeded in making a new sledge. But a thaw came suddenly and spoiled all their fish. A wolf carried off the greater part of their dried meat one day while they were absent from the hut. After this the frost set in with extreme violence, game became more scarce, and fish did not take the bait so readily, so that, although they procured more than enough for present consumption, they were slow in accumulating a travelling store; and thus it came to pass that November found Roy and Nelly still toiling wearily, yet hopefully, on the shores of Silver Lake.
Chapter Fifteen.The Massacre.We must return now to Robin Gore and his wife, who, on the morning on which we re-introduce them to the reader, were standing in the trading store of Fort Enterprise, conversing earnestly with Black, the Indian, who has been already mentioned at the beginning of our tale. The wife of the latter—the White Swan—was busily engaged in counting over the pack of furs that lay open on the counter, absorbed, apparently, in an abstruse calculation as to how many yards of cloth and strings of beads they would purchase.“Well, I’m glad that’s fixed, anyhow,” said Robin to his wife, as he turned to the Indian with a satisfied air, and addressed him in his native tongue, “it’s a bargain, then, that you an’ Slugs go with me on this expedition, is’t so?”“The Black Swan is ready,” replied the Indian, quietly, “and he thinks that Slugs will go too—but the white hunter is self-willed; he has a mouth—ask himself.”“Ay, ye don’t like to answer for him,” said Robin, with a smile; “assuredly Slugs has his own notions, and holds to ’em; but I’ll ask him. He is to be here this night, with a deer, I hope, for there are many mouths to fill.”Black Swan, who was a tall, taciturn, and powerful Indian, here glanced at his wife, who was, like most Indian women, a humble-looking and not very pretty or clean creature. Turning again to Robin, he said, in a low, soft voice—“The White Swan is not strong, and she is not used to be alone.”“I understand you,” said Robin; “she shall come to the Fort, and be looked after. You won’t object to take her in, Molly, when we’re away?”“Object, Robin,” said Molly, with a smile, which was accompanied by a sigh, “I’ll only be too glad to have her company.”“Well, then, that’s settled; and now, Black Swan, I may as well tell you what coorse I mean to follow out in this sarch for my child’n. You know already that four white men—strangers—have come to the Fort, an’ are now smokin’ their pipes in the hall, but you don’t know that one on ’em is my own brother Jefferson; Jeff, I’ve bin used to call him. Jeff’s bin a harem-scarem feller all his life—active and able enough, an’ good natur’d too, but he never could stick to nothin’, an’ so he’s bin wanderin’ about the world till grey hairs have begun to show on him, without gettin’ a home or a wife. The last thing he tried was stokin’ a steamboat on the Mississippi; but the boat blew up, pitched a lot o’ the passengers into the water, an’ the rest o’ them into the next world. Jeff was always in luck with his life; he’s lost everythin’ over an’ over again but that. He was one o’ the lot as was blowed into the water, so, when he come up he swamed ashore, an’ come straight away here to visit me, bringin’ three o’ the blowed-up passengers with him. The three are somethin’ like himself; good for nothin’; an’ I’d rather have their room than their company at most times. Hows’ever, just at this time I’m very glad they’ve come, for I’ll leave them in charge o’ the Fort, and set off to look for the child’n in two days from this. I’ll take Walter and Larry wi’ me, for brother Jeff is able enough to manage the trade if redskins come; he can fight too, if need be. The Gore family could always do that, so ye needn’t be afraid, Molly.”“I’ll not be afraid, Robin, but I’ll be anxious about ye.”“That’s nat’ral, lass, but it can’t be helped. Well, then,” continued Robin, “the five of us will start for the Black Hills. I’ve bin told by a redskin who comed here last week that he an’ his tribe had had a scrimmage with Hawk an’ the reptiles that follow him. He says that there was a white boy an’ a white girl with Hawk’s party, an’ from his account of ’em I’m sartin sure it’s my Roy and Nelly. God help ’em! ‘but,’ says he, ‘they made their escape durin’ the attack, an’ we followed our enemies so far that we didn’t think it worth while to return to look for ’em, so I’m convinced they made for the Black Hills, nigh which Hawk was attacked, an’ if we follow ’em up there we may find ’em alive yet, mayhap.’”Poor Robin’s voice became deeper and less animated as he spoke, and the last word was uttered with hesitation and in a whisper.“O Robin, Robin!” exclaimed Mrs Gore, throwing her arms suddenly round her husband’s neck, and hiding her sobbing face in his breast, “d’ye think they canstillbe alive?”“Come, Molly,” said Robin, commanding his feelings with a great effort, “han’t ye often read to me that wi’ God all things is possible?”The poor woman thanked God in her heart, for up to that day Robin had never once quoted Scripture in his efforts to comfort her.“Was Wapaw with Hawk when they were attacked?” inquired the Black Swan.“Wapaw is dead,” said a deep voice, as the huge form of a western hunter darkened the little doorway, and the next moment Slugs strode into the store, and quietly seated himself on the counter.“Dead!” exclaimed Robin, as he shook the hunter’s proffered hand.“Ay, dead! Have ye no word of welcome for a chum after a month’s absence?” said Slugs, holding out his horny hand to the Black Swan, who gravely grasped and shook it.“You redskins are a queer lot,” said Slugs, with a grin, “yer as stiff as a rifle ramrod to look at, but there’s warm and good stuff in ’ee for all that.”“But what about Wapaw?” inquired Mrs Gore, anxiously; “surely he’s not dead.”“If he’s not dead he’s not livin’, for I saw Hawk himself, not four weeks ago, shoot him and follow him up with his tomahawk, and then heard their shout as they killed him. Where did he say he was goin’ when he left you?”“He said he would go down to the settlements to see the missionaries, an’ that he thought o’ lookin’ in on the fur-traders that set up a fort last year, fifty miles to the south’ard o’ this.”“Ay, just so,” said Slugs; “I was puzzled to know what he was doin’ thereaway, and that explains it. He’s dead now, an’ so are the fur-traders he went to see. I’ll tell ye all about it if you’ll give me baccy enough to fill my pipe. I ran out o’t three days agone, an’ ha’ bin smokin’ tea-leaves an’ bark, an’ all sorts o’ trash. Thank ’ee; that’s a scent more sweet nor roses.”As he said this the stout hunter cut up the piece of tobacco which Robin at once handed to him, and rolled it with great zest between his palms. When the pipe was filled and properly lighted, he leaned his back against an unopened bale of goods that lay on the counter, and drawing several whiffs, began his narrative.“You must know that I made tracks for the noo fur-tradin’ post when I left you, Black Swan, about a month ago. I hadn’t much of a object; it was mainly cooriosity as took me there. I got there all right, an’ was sittin’ in the hall chattin’ wi’ the head man—Macdonell they called him—about the trade and the Injuns. Macdonell’s two little child’n was playin’ about, a boy an’ a girl, as lively as kittens, an’ his wife—a good-lookin’ young ’ooman—was lookin’ arter ’em, when the door opens, and in stalks a long-legged Injun. It was Wapaw. Down he sat in front o’ the fireplace, an’ after some palaver an’ a pipe—for your Injuns’ll never tell all they’ve got to say at once—he tells Macdonell that there was a dark plot hatchin’ agin’ him—that Hawk, a big rascal of his own tribe, had worked upon a lot o’ reptiles like hisself, an’ they had made up their minds to come an’ massacre everybody at the Fort, and carry off the goods.“At first Macdonell didn’t seem to believe the Injun, but when I told him I knowed him, an’ that he was a trustworthy man, he was much troubled, an’ in doubt what to do. Now, it’s quite clear to me that Hawk must have somehow found out or suspected that Wapaw was goin’ to ’peach on him, an’ that he had followed his trail close up; for in less than an hour arter Wapaw arrived, an’ while we was yet sittin’ smokin’ by the fire, there was a most tremendous yell outside. I know’d it for the war-whoop o’ the redskins, so I jumped up an’ cocked my rifle. The others jumped up too, like lightnin’; an’ Mrs Macdonell she got hold o’ her girlie in her arms an’ was runnin’ across the hall to her own room, when the door was knocked off its hinges, and fell flat on the floor. Before it had well-nigh fallen I got sight o’ somethin’, an’ let drive. The yell that follered told me I had spoilt somebody’s aim. A volley was poured on us next moment, an’ a redskin jumped in, but Wapaw’s tomahawk sent him out again with a split skull. Before they could reload—for the stupid fools had all fired together—I had the door up, and a heavy table shoved agin it. Then I turned round, to load agin; while I was doin’ this, I observed poor Macdonell on his knees beside his wife, so I went to them an’ found that the wife an’ girl were stone dead—both shot through the heart with the same ball.“As soon as Macdonell saw this he rose up quietly, but with a look on his face sich as I never see in a man ’xcept when he means to stick at nothin’. He got hold of his double-barrelled gun, an’ stuck a scalpin’ knife an’ an axe in his belt.“‘Git on my back, Tommy,’ says he to his little boy, who was cryin’ in a corner.“Tommy got up at once, an’ jumped on his dad’s back. All this time the redskins were yellin’ round the house like fiends, an’ batterin’ the door, so that it was clear it couldn’t stand long.“‘Friends,’ said he turnin’ to me an’ Wapaw, an’ a poor terrified chap that was the only one o’ his men as chanced to be in the house at the time, ‘friends, it’s every man for himself now; I’ll cut my way though them, or—’. He stopped short, an’ took hold o’ his axe in one hand, an’ his gun in the other. ‘Are ye ready?’ says he. We threw forward our rifles an’ cocked ’em; Macdonell—he was a big, strong man—suddenly upset the table; the savages dashed in the door with sich force that three or four o’ ’em fell sprawlin’ on the floor. We jumped over these before they could rise, and fired a volley, which sent three or four o’ the reptiles behind on their backs. We got into the bush without a scratch, an’ used our legs well, I can tell ’ee. They fired a volley after us, which missed us all except poor Tommy. A bullet entered his brain, an’ killed him dead. For some time his father would not drop him, though I told him he was quite dead; but his weight kept him from runnin’ fast, an’ we heard the redskins gainin’ on us, so at last Macdonell put the boy down tenderly under a bush. Me and Wapaw stopped to fire an’ keep the reptiles back, but they fired on us, and Wapaw fell. I tried to lift him, but he struggled out o’ my arms. Poor fellow! he was a brave man; and I’ve no doubt did it a-purpose, knowin’ that I couldn’t run fast enough with him. Just then I saw Hawk come jumpin’ and yellin’ at us, followed by two or three dozen redskins, all flourishin’ their tomahawks. Macdonell and me turned to die fightin’ alongside o’ our red comrade, but Wapaw suddenly sprang up, uttered a shout of defiance, an’ dashed into the bush. The Injuns were after him in a moment, and before we could get near them a yell of triumph told us that it was too late, so we turned and bolted in different directions.“I soon left them behind me, but I hung about the place for a day or two to see if Macdonell should turn up, or any of his men. I even went back to the Fort after the reptiles had left it. They had burned it down, an’ I saw parts o’ the limbs o’ the poor wife and child lyin’ among the half-burned goods that they weren’t able to carry away with them.”
We must return now to Robin Gore and his wife, who, on the morning on which we re-introduce them to the reader, were standing in the trading store of Fort Enterprise, conversing earnestly with Black, the Indian, who has been already mentioned at the beginning of our tale. The wife of the latter—the White Swan—was busily engaged in counting over the pack of furs that lay open on the counter, absorbed, apparently, in an abstruse calculation as to how many yards of cloth and strings of beads they would purchase.
“Well, I’m glad that’s fixed, anyhow,” said Robin to his wife, as he turned to the Indian with a satisfied air, and addressed him in his native tongue, “it’s a bargain, then, that you an’ Slugs go with me on this expedition, is’t so?”
“The Black Swan is ready,” replied the Indian, quietly, “and he thinks that Slugs will go too—but the white hunter is self-willed; he has a mouth—ask himself.”
“Ay, ye don’t like to answer for him,” said Robin, with a smile; “assuredly Slugs has his own notions, and holds to ’em; but I’ll ask him. He is to be here this night, with a deer, I hope, for there are many mouths to fill.”
Black Swan, who was a tall, taciturn, and powerful Indian, here glanced at his wife, who was, like most Indian women, a humble-looking and not very pretty or clean creature. Turning again to Robin, he said, in a low, soft voice—
“The White Swan is not strong, and she is not used to be alone.”
“I understand you,” said Robin; “she shall come to the Fort, and be looked after. You won’t object to take her in, Molly, when we’re away?”
“Object, Robin,” said Molly, with a smile, which was accompanied by a sigh, “I’ll only be too glad to have her company.”
“Well, then, that’s settled; and now, Black Swan, I may as well tell you what coorse I mean to follow out in this sarch for my child’n. You know already that four white men—strangers—have come to the Fort, an’ are now smokin’ their pipes in the hall, but you don’t know that one on ’em is my own brother Jefferson; Jeff, I’ve bin used to call him. Jeff’s bin a harem-scarem feller all his life—active and able enough, an’ good natur’d too, but he never could stick to nothin’, an’ so he’s bin wanderin’ about the world till grey hairs have begun to show on him, without gettin’ a home or a wife. The last thing he tried was stokin’ a steamboat on the Mississippi; but the boat blew up, pitched a lot o’ the passengers into the water, an’ the rest o’ them into the next world. Jeff was always in luck with his life; he’s lost everythin’ over an’ over again but that. He was one o’ the lot as was blowed into the water, so, when he come up he swamed ashore, an’ come straight away here to visit me, bringin’ three o’ the blowed-up passengers with him. The three are somethin’ like himself; good for nothin’; an’ I’d rather have their room than their company at most times. Hows’ever, just at this time I’m very glad they’ve come, for I’ll leave them in charge o’ the Fort, and set off to look for the child’n in two days from this. I’ll take Walter and Larry wi’ me, for brother Jeff is able enough to manage the trade if redskins come; he can fight too, if need be. The Gore family could always do that, so ye needn’t be afraid, Molly.”
“I’ll not be afraid, Robin, but I’ll be anxious about ye.”
“That’s nat’ral, lass, but it can’t be helped. Well, then,” continued Robin, “the five of us will start for the Black Hills. I’ve bin told by a redskin who comed here last week that he an’ his tribe had had a scrimmage with Hawk an’ the reptiles that follow him. He says that there was a white boy an’ a white girl with Hawk’s party, an’ from his account of ’em I’m sartin sure it’s my Roy and Nelly. God help ’em! ‘but,’ says he, ‘they made their escape durin’ the attack, an’ we followed our enemies so far that we didn’t think it worth while to return to look for ’em, so I’m convinced they made for the Black Hills, nigh which Hawk was attacked, an’ if we follow ’em up there we may find ’em alive yet, mayhap.’”
Poor Robin’s voice became deeper and less animated as he spoke, and the last word was uttered with hesitation and in a whisper.
“O Robin, Robin!” exclaimed Mrs Gore, throwing her arms suddenly round her husband’s neck, and hiding her sobbing face in his breast, “d’ye think they canstillbe alive?”
“Come, Molly,” said Robin, commanding his feelings with a great effort, “han’t ye often read to me that wi’ God all things is possible?”
The poor woman thanked God in her heart, for up to that day Robin had never once quoted Scripture in his efforts to comfort her.
“Was Wapaw with Hawk when they were attacked?” inquired the Black Swan.
“Wapaw is dead,” said a deep voice, as the huge form of a western hunter darkened the little doorway, and the next moment Slugs strode into the store, and quietly seated himself on the counter.
“Dead!” exclaimed Robin, as he shook the hunter’s proffered hand.
“Ay, dead! Have ye no word of welcome for a chum after a month’s absence?” said Slugs, holding out his horny hand to the Black Swan, who gravely grasped and shook it.
“You redskins are a queer lot,” said Slugs, with a grin, “yer as stiff as a rifle ramrod to look at, but there’s warm and good stuff in ’ee for all that.”
“But what about Wapaw?” inquired Mrs Gore, anxiously; “surely he’s not dead.”
“If he’s not dead he’s not livin’, for I saw Hawk himself, not four weeks ago, shoot him and follow him up with his tomahawk, and then heard their shout as they killed him. Where did he say he was goin’ when he left you?”
“He said he would go down to the settlements to see the missionaries, an’ that he thought o’ lookin’ in on the fur-traders that set up a fort last year, fifty miles to the south’ard o’ this.”
“Ay, just so,” said Slugs; “I was puzzled to know what he was doin’ thereaway, and that explains it. He’s dead now, an’ so are the fur-traders he went to see. I’ll tell ye all about it if you’ll give me baccy enough to fill my pipe. I ran out o’t three days agone, an’ ha’ bin smokin’ tea-leaves an’ bark, an’ all sorts o’ trash. Thank ’ee; that’s a scent more sweet nor roses.”
As he said this the stout hunter cut up the piece of tobacco which Robin at once handed to him, and rolled it with great zest between his palms. When the pipe was filled and properly lighted, he leaned his back against an unopened bale of goods that lay on the counter, and drawing several whiffs, began his narrative.
“You must know that I made tracks for the noo fur-tradin’ post when I left you, Black Swan, about a month ago. I hadn’t much of a object; it was mainly cooriosity as took me there. I got there all right, an’ was sittin’ in the hall chattin’ wi’ the head man—Macdonell they called him—about the trade and the Injuns. Macdonell’s two little child’n was playin’ about, a boy an’ a girl, as lively as kittens, an’ his wife—a good-lookin’ young ’ooman—was lookin’ arter ’em, when the door opens, and in stalks a long-legged Injun. It was Wapaw. Down he sat in front o’ the fireplace, an’ after some palaver an’ a pipe—for your Injuns’ll never tell all they’ve got to say at once—he tells Macdonell that there was a dark plot hatchin’ agin’ him—that Hawk, a big rascal of his own tribe, had worked upon a lot o’ reptiles like hisself, an’ they had made up their minds to come an’ massacre everybody at the Fort, and carry off the goods.
“At first Macdonell didn’t seem to believe the Injun, but when I told him I knowed him, an’ that he was a trustworthy man, he was much troubled, an’ in doubt what to do. Now, it’s quite clear to me that Hawk must have somehow found out or suspected that Wapaw was goin’ to ’peach on him, an’ that he had followed his trail close up; for in less than an hour arter Wapaw arrived, an’ while we was yet sittin’ smokin’ by the fire, there was a most tremendous yell outside. I know’d it for the war-whoop o’ the redskins, so I jumped up an’ cocked my rifle. The others jumped up too, like lightnin’; an’ Mrs Macdonell she got hold o’ her girlie in her arms an’ was runnin’ across the hall to her own room, when the door was knocked off its hinges, and fell flat on the floor. Before it had well-nigh fallen I got sight o’ somethin’, an’ let drive. The yell that follered told me I had spoilt somebody’s aim. A volley was poured on us next moment, an’ a redskin jumped in, but Wapaw’s tomahawk sent him out again with a split skull. Before they could reload—for the stupid fools had all fired together—I had the door up, and a heavy table shoved agin it. Then I turned round, to load agin; while I was doin’ this, I observed poor Macdonell on his knees beside his wife, so I went to them an’ found that the wife an’ girl were stone dead—both shot through the heart with the same ball.
“As soon as Macdonell saw this he rose up quietly, but with a look on his face sich as I never see in a man ’xcept when he means to stick at nothin’. He got hold of his double-barrelled gun, an’ stuck a scalpin’ knife an’ an axe in his belt.
“‘Git on my back, Tommy,’ says he to his little boy, who was cryin’ in a corner.
“Tommy got up at once, an’ jumped on his dad’s back. All this time the redskins were yellin’ round the house like fiends, an’ batterin’ the door, so that it was clear it couldn’t stand long.
“‘Friends,’ said he turnin’ to me an’ Wapaw, an’ a poor terrified chap that was the only one o’ his men as chanced to be in the house at the time, ‘friends, it’s every man for himself now; I’ll cut my way though them, or—’. He stopped short, an’ took hold o’ his axe in one hand, an’ his gun in the other. ‘Are ye ready?’ says he. We threw forward our rifles an’ cocked ’em; Macdonell—he was a big, strong man—suddenly upset the table; the savages dashed in the door with sich force that three or four o’ ’em fell sprawlin’ on the floor. We jumped over these before they could rise, and fired a volley, which sent three or four o’ the reptiles behind on their backs. We got into the bush without a scratch, an’ used our legs well, I can tell ’ee. They fired a volley after us, which missed us all except poor Tommy. A bullet entered his brain, an’ killed him dead. For some time his father would not drop him, though I told him he was quite dead; but his weight kept him from runnin’ fast, an’ we heard the redskins gainin’ on us, so at last Macdonell put the boy down tenderly under a bush. Me and Wapaw stopped to fire an’ keep the reptiles back, but they fired on us, and Wapaw fell. I tried to lift him, but he struggled out o’ my arms. Poor fellow! he was a brave man; and I’ve no doubt did it a-purpose, knowin’ that I couldn’t run fast enough with him. Just then I saw Hawk come jumpin’ and yellin’ at us, followed by two or three dozen redskins, all flourishin’ their tomahawks. Macdonell and me turned to die fightin’ alongside o’ our red comrade, but Wapaw suddenly sprang up, uttered a shout of defiance, an’ dashed into the bush. The Injuns were after him in a moment, and before we could get near them a yell of triumph told us that it was too late, so we turned and bolted in different directions.
“I soon left them behind me, but I hung about the place for a day or two to see if Macdonell should turn up, or any of his men. I even went back to the Fort after the reptiles had left it. They had burned it down, an’ I saw parts o’ the limbs o’ the poor wife and child lyin’ among the half-burned goods that they weren’t able to carry away with them.”
Chapter Sixteen.Vengeance.The terrible tale which was related by Slugs had the effect of changing Robin Gore’s plans. He resolved to pursue the murderers, and inflict summary punishment on them before setting off on the contemplated search for his lost children, and he was all the more induced to do this that there was some hope he might be able to obtain a clue to their whereabouts from some of the prisoners whom he hoped to seize.It might be thought by some a rash step for him to take—the pursuit of a band of about fifty savages with a party of six men. But backwood hunters were bold fellows in those days, and Indians were by no means noted for reckless courage. Six stout, resolute, and well-armed men were, in Robin’s opinion, quite a match for fifty redskins!He could not muster more than six, because it was absolutely necessary to leave at least three men to guard Fort Enterprise. Robin therefore resolved to leave his brother Jeff to look after it, with two of the strangers; and Jeff accepted the charge with pleasure, saying he “would defend the place agin a hundred red reptiles.” The third stranger—a man named Stiff—he resolved to take with him.The war-party, when mustered, consisted of Robin Gore, his nephew Walter, Larry O’Dowd, the Black Swan, Slugs the hunter, and Stiff the stranger. Armed to the teeth, these six put on their snow-shoes the following morning, and set forth on their journey in silence.Now this change of plans was—all unknown to Robin—the means of leading him towards, instead of away from, his lost little ones. For Roy and Nelly had travelled so far during their long wanderings from the Black Hills—the place where they escaped from the Indians—that they were at that time many long miles away from them in another direction. In fact, if Robin had carried out his original plan of search, he would have been increasing the distance between himself and his children every step he took!Not knowing this, however, and being under the impression that each day’s march lessened his chance of ultimately finding his lost ones, he walked along, mile after mile, and day after day, in stern silence.On the third day out, towards evening, the party descried a thin line of blue smoke rising above the tree-tops. They had reached an elevated and somewhat hilly region, so that the ground favoured their approach by stealth, nevertheless, fearing to lose their prey, they resolved to wait till dark, and take their enemies, if such they should turn out to be, by surprise.Soon after sunset Robin gave the word to advance. Each man of the party laid aside his blanket, and left his provisions, etcetera, in the encampment, taking with him his arms only.“I need not say that there must be no speaking, and that we must tread lightly. You’re up to redskin ways as well as me, except mayhap our friend Stiff here.”Stiff who was a tall Yankee, protested that he could “chaw up his tongue, and go as slick as a feline mouser.”On nearing the fire, they made adétourto examine the tracks that led to it, and found from their number and other signs that it was indeed Hawk’s party.Robin advanced alone to reconnoitre. On returning, he said—“It’s just the reptiles; there’s forty of ’em if there’s one, an’ they’ve got a white man bound with ’em; no doubt from what you said of him, Slugs, it’s Macdonell; but I don’t see Wapaw. I fear me that his days are over. Now, then, lads, here’s our plan: we’ll attack them from six different points at once. We’ll all give the war-whoop at the same moment, takin’ the word from Walter there, who’s got a loud pipe of his own, then when the varmints start to their feet—for I don’t like the notion o’ firin’ at men off their guard—Walter, Larry, an’ Stiff will fire. Black Swan, Slugs, an’ I will reserve our fire while you reload; the reptiles will scatter, of course, an’ we’ll give ’em a volley an’ a united yell as they cut stick, that’ll keep ’em from waitin’ for more.”The plan thus hastily sketched was at once carried out. Advancing stealthily to their several stations, the six men, as it were, surrounded the savages, who, not dreaming of pursuit, had neglected to place sentinels round the camp. When Walter’s loud “halloo!” rang in their ears, the whole band sprang to their feet, and seized their arms, but three shots laid three of them dead on the ground. As they fled right and left the reserve fired, and shot three others, among whom was Hawk himself. Black Swan had picked him out, and shot him through the head. Before they were quite out of shot, the three who had first fired had reloaded and fired again with some effect, for blood was afterwards observed on the snow.Slugs now made a rush into the camp to unbind Macdonell, but to his horror he discovered that a knife was plunged up to the handle in his breast, and that he was almost dead. Hawk had evidently committed this cowardly deed on the first alarm, for the knife was known to be his. Macdonell tried hard to speak, but all that he was able to say was, “Wapaw, wounded, escaped—follow.” Then his head fell back, and he died. From the few words thus uttered, however, the pursuers concluded that Wapaw was not dead, but wounded, and that he had escaped.“If that be so,” said Walter, “then they must have been on Wapaw’s tracks, an’ if we search we shall find ’em, an’ may follow ’em up.”“True,” said Slugs, “and the sooner we’re away from this the better, for the reptiles may return, and find us not so strong a band as they think.”Acting on this advice, the whole party set off at once. Wapaw’s track was soon discovered, being, of course, a solitary one, and in advance of his enemies, who were in pursuit. Following the track with untiring vigour, the party found that it led them out of the lower country into a region high up amongst the hills.
The terrible tale which was related by Slugs had the effect of changing Robin Gore’s plans. He resolved to pursue the murderers, and inflict summary punishment on them before setting off on the contemplated search for his lost children, and he was all the more induced to do this that there was some hope he might be able to obtain a clue to their whereabouts from some of the prisoners whom he hoped to seize.
It might be thought by some a rash step for him to take—the pursuit of a band of about fifty savages with a party of six men. But backwood hunters were bold fellows in those days, and Indians were by no means noted for reckless courage. Six stout, resolute, and well-armed men were, in Robin’s opinion, quite a match for fifty redskins!
He could not muster more than six, because it was absolutely necessary to leave at least three men to guard Fort Enterprise. Robin therefore resolved to leave his brother Jeff to look after it, with two of the strangers; and Jeff accepted the charge with pleasure, saying he “would defend the place agin a hundred red reptiles.” The third stranger—a man named Stiff—he resolved to take with him.
The war-party, when mustered, consisted of Robin Gore, his nephew Walter, Larry O’Dowd, the Black Swan, Slugs the hunter, and Stiff the stranger. Armed to the teeth, these six put on their snow-shoes the following morning, and set forth on their journey in silence.
Now this change of plans was—all unknown to Robin—the means of leading him towards, instead of away from, his lost little ones. For Roy and Nelly had travelled so far during their long wanderings from the Black Hills—the place where they escaped from the Indians—that they were at that time many long miles away from them in another direction. In fact, if Robin had carried out his original plan of search, he would have been increasing the distance between himself and his children every step he took!
Not knowing this, however, and being under the impression that each day’s march lessened his chance of ultimately finding his lost ones, he walked along, mile after mile, and day after day, in stern silence.
On the third day out, towards evening, the party descried a thin line of blue smoke rising above the tree-tops. They had reached an elevated and somewhat hilly region, so that the ground favoured their approach by stealth, nevertheless, fearing to lose their prey, they resolved to wait till dark, and take their enemies, if such they should turn out to be, by surprise.
Soon after sunset Robin gave the word to advance. Each man of the party laid aside his blanket, and left his provisions, etcetera, in the encampment, taking with him his arms only.
“I need not say that there must be no speaking, and that we must tread lightly. You’re up to redskin ways as well as me, except mayhap our friend Stiff here.”
Stiff who was a tall Yankee, protested that he could “chaw up his tongue, and go as slick as a feline mouser.”
On nearing the fire, they made adétourto examine the tracks that led to it, and found from their number and other signs that it was indeed Hawk’s party.
Robin advanced alone to reconnoitre. On returning, he said—
“It’s just the reptiles; there’s forty of ’em if there’s one, an’ they’ve got a white man bound with ’em; no doubt from what you said of him, Slugs, it’s Macdonell; but I don’t see Wapaw. I fear me that his days are over. Now, then, lads, here’s our plan: we’ll attack them from six different points at once. We’ll all give the war-whoop at the same moment, takin’ the word from Walter there, who’s got a loud pipe of his own, then when the varmints start to their feet—for I don’t like the notion o’ firin’ at men off their guard—Walter, Larry, an’ Stiff will fire. Black Swan, Slugs, an’ I will reserve our fire while you reload; the reptiles will scatter, of course, an’ we’ll give ’em a volley an’ a united yell as they cut stick, that’ll keep ’em from waitin’ for more.”
The plan thus hastily sketched was at once carried out. Advancing stealthily to their several stations, the six men, as it were, surrounded the savages, who, not dreaming of pursuit, had neglected to place sentinels round the camp. When Walter’s loud “halloo!” rang in their ears, the whole band sprang to their feet, and seized their arms, but three shots laid three of them dead on the ground. As they fled right and left the reserve fired, and shot three others, among whom was Hawk himself. Black Swan had picked him out, and shot him through the head. Before they were quite out of shot, the three who had first fired had reloaded and fired again with some effect, for blood was afterwards observed on the snow.
Slugs now made a rush into the camp to unbind Macdonell, but to his horror he discovered that a knife was plunged up to the handle in his breast, and that he was almost dead. Hawk had evidently committed this cowardly deed on the first alarm, for the knife was known to be his. Macdonell tried hard to speak, but all that he was able to say was, “Wapaw, wounded, escaped—follow.” Then his head fell back, and he died. From the few words thus uttered, however, the pursuers concluded that Wapaw was not dead, but wounded, and that he had escaped.
“If that be so,” said Walter, “then they must have been on Wapaw’s tracks, an’ if we search we shall find ’em, an’ may follow ’em up.”
“True,” said Slugs, “and the sooner we’re away from this the better, for the reptiles may return, and find us not so strong a band as they think.”
Acting on this advice, the whole party set off at once. Wapaw’s track was soon discovered, being, of course, a solitary one, and in advance of his enemies, who were in pursuit. Following the track with untiring vigour, the party found that it led them out of the lower country into a region high up amongst the hills.
Chapter Seventeen.The Pursuit.“Wapaw must have worked hard, for we should have overhauled him by this time,” said Walter to his uncle on the evening of the next day, as they plodded steadily along through the snow.“I would give up the pursuit,” said Robin, somewhat gloomily, “for it’s losin’ time that might be better spent on another search; but it won’t do to leave the crittur, for if he’s badly wounded he may die for want o’ help.”“Guess he can’t be very bad, else he’d niver travel so fast,” observed Stiff, who, now that the chief murderer was punished, did not care much to go in search of the wounded Indian.“When a man thinks a band o’ yellin’ redskins are follerin’ up his trail,” said Slugs, “he’s pretty sure to travel fast, wounded or not wounded—leastways if he’s able. But I don’t think we’ll have to go much farther now, for I’ve noticed that his stride ain’t so long as it was, and that’s a sartin sure sign that he’s failin’; I only hope he won’t go under before we find him.”“Niver a fear o’ that,” said Larry O’Dowd, with a grin. “I’ve seed him as far gone as any one iver I comed across, wi’ starvation; but the way that fellow walked into the grub when he got the chance was wonderful to behold! I thought he’d ait me out o’ the house entirely; and he put so much flesh on his bones in a week or two that he was able to go about his business, though he warn’t no fatter when he began to ait than a consumptive darnin’ needle. True for ye—it’s naither walkin’, starvin’, nor cowld, as’ll kill Wapaw.”“What does the Black Swan think?” inquired Robin.“We shall see Wapaw when the sun is low to-morrow,” replied the Indian.“Mayhap we shall,” quoth Robin, “but it behooves us to get the steam up for to-morrow: so, comrades, as there’s a good clump o’ timber here away, we’ll camp.”Robin threw down his bundle as he spoke, and his example was at once followed by the others, each of whom set to work vigorously to assist in preparing the encampment.They had all the requisite implements for this purpose, having returned, after the attack on the Indians, for the things they had left behind them.“It’s a pity that we shall have to keep watch to-night,” said Walter; “one of us will have to do it, I fancy; for though I don’t believe these murderin’ redskins have pluck to attack us, it would not do to trust to that.”Slugs, to whom this remark was addressed, lowered the axe with which he was about to fell a neighbouring tree for firewood.“That’s true,” said he, looking round him in all directions; “hold on, comrades, yonder’s a mound with a bare top, we’d better camp there. Makin’ a big blaze on sitch a place’ll show the red reptiles we don’t care a gun-flint for them, and they’ll not dare to come near, so we won’t have to watch.”“Arrah! an’ a purty spot it’ll be for the blackyirds to shoot us all aisy as we’re sottin’ at supper,” exclaimed Larry O’Dowd.“Doubtless there’s a hollow on it,” rejoined Slugs, “for the top is flat.”“Humph! maybe,” growled Larry, who still seemed to object; but, as the rest of the party were willing to adopt the suggestion, he said no more, and they all went to the top of the little mound, which commanded a clear view of the surrounding country.As Slugs had surmised, there was a slight hollow on the summit of the mound, which effectually screened the party from any one who might wish to fire at them from below; and as there was no other mound in the immediate neighbourhood, they felt quite secure. Huge logs were cut and carried to the top of the mound, the snow was cleared out of the hole, pine branches were spread over it, the fire was kindled, the kettle put on and filled with snow, and soon Larry O’Dowd was involved in the heat, steam, smoke, and activities of preparing supper, while his comrades spread out their blankets and lay down to smoke with their arms ready beside them.The fire roared up into the wintry sky, causing the mound to resemble the cone or crater of a volcano, which could be seen for miles round. Ever and anon, while supper was being eaten, the Black Swan or Slugs would rise, and going stealthily to the edge of the mound would peep cautiously over, to make sure that none of their enemies were approaching.Immediately after supper, they all lay down to sleep, but, for a time, each motionless form that lay rolled tightly in its blanket like an Egyptian mummy, sent a series of little puffs from its head. At last the stars came out, and the pipes dropped from each sleeper’s lips. Then the moon rose—a circumstance which rendered their position still more secure—and the fire sank low. But Slugs was too cautious a hunter to trust entirely to the alleged cowardice of the savages. He knew well that many, indeed most of the redskins, bad as well as good, had quite enough of mere brute courage to make them dare and risk a good deal for the sake of scalping a white hunter, so he rose once or twice during the night to replenish the fire and take a look round; and as often as he rose for these purposes, so often did he observe the glittering eye of the Black Swan glaring round the encampment, although its owner never once moved from his recumbent posture.Thus the night was spent. The first glimmer of daylight found the whole party up and equipped for the journey.They did not breakfast before setting out, as they preferred to take their morning meal later in the day. Few words were spoken. At that early hour, and in the sleepy condition which usually results from averyearly start, men are seldom inclined to talk. Only one or two monosyllables were uttered as each man rolled up his blanket with his share of the provisions in it, and fastened on his snow-shoes. A few minutes later Robin led the way down the slope, and the whole party marched off in single file, and re-entered the woods.
“Wapaw must have worked hard, for we should have overhauled him by this time,” said Walter to his uncle on the evening of the next day, as they plodded steadily along through the snow.
“I would give up the pursuit,” said Robin, somewhat gloomily, “for it’s losin’ time that might be better spent on another search; but it won’t do to leave the crittur, for if he’s badly wounded he may die for want o’ help.”
“Guess he can’t be very bad, else he’d niver travel so fast,” observed Stiff, who, now that the chief murderer was punished, did not care much to go in search of the wounded Indian.
“When a man thinks a band o’ yellin’ redskins are follerin’ up his trail,” said Slugs, “he’s pretty sure to travel fast, wounded or not wounded—leastways if he’s able. But I don’t think we’ll have to go much farther now, for I’ve noticed that his stride ain’t so long as it was, and that’s a sartin sure sign that he’s failin’; I only hope he won’t go under before we find him.”
“Niver a fear o’ that,” said Larry O’Dowd, with a grin. “I’ve seed him as far gone as any one iver I comed across, wi’ starvation; but the way that fellow walked into the grub when he got the chance was wonderful to behold! I thought he’d ait me out o’ the house entirely; and he put so much flesh on his bones in a week or two that he was able to go about his business, though he warn’t no fatter when he began to ait than a consumptive darnin’ needle. True for ye—it’s naither walkin’, starvin’, nor cowld, as’ll kill Wapaw.”
“What does the Black Swan think?” inquired Robin.
“We shall see Wapaw when the sun is low to-morrow,” replied the Indian.
“Mayhap we shall,” quoth Robin, “but it behooves us to get the steam up for to-morrow: so, comrades, as there’s a good clump o’ timber here away, we’ll camp.”
Robin threw down his bundle as he spoke, and his example was at once followed by the others, each of whom set to work vigorously to assist in preparing the encampment.
They had all the requisite implements for this purpose, having returned, after the attack on the Indians, for the things they had left behind them.
“It’s a pity that we shall have to keep watch to-night,” said Walter; “one of us will have to do it, I fancy; for though I don’t believe these murderin’ redskins have pluck to attack us, it would not do to trust to that.”
Slugs, to whom this remark was addressed, lowered the axe with which he was about to fell a neighbouring tree for firewood.
“That’s true,” said he, looking round him in all directions; “hold on, comrades, yonder’s a mound with a bare top, we’d better camp there. Makin’ a big blaze on sitch a place’ll show the red reptiles we don’t care a gun-flint for them, and they’ll not dare to come near, so we won’t have to watch.”
“Arrah! an’ a purty spot it’ll be for the blackyirds to shoot us all aisy as we’re sottin’ at supper,” exclaimed Larry O’Dowd.
“Doubtless there’s a hollow on it,” rejoined Slugs, “for the top is flat.”
“Humph! maybe,” growled Larry, who still seemed to object; but, as the rest of the party were willing to adopt the suggestion, he said no more, and they all went to the top of the little mound, which commanded a clear view of the surrounding country.
As Slugs had surmised, there was a slight hollow on the summit of the mound, which effectually screened the party from any one who might wish to fire at them from below; and as there was no other mound in the immediate neighbourhood, they felt quite secure. Huge logs were cut and carried to the top of the mound, the snow was cleared out of the hole, pine branches were spread over it, the fire was kindled, the kettle put on and filled with snow, and soon Larry O’Dowd was involved in the heat, steam, smoke, and activities of preparing supper, while his comrades spread out their blankets and lay down to smoke with their arms ready beside them.
The fire roared up into the wintry sky, causing the mound to resemble the cone or crater of a volcano, which could be seen for miles round. Ever and anon, while supper was being eaten, the Black Swan or Slugs would rise, and going stealthily to the edge of the mound would peep cautiously over, to make sure that none of their enemies were approaching.
Immediately after supper, they all lay down to sleep, but, for a time, each motionless form that lay rolled tightly in its blanket like an Egyptian mummy, sent a series of little puffs from its head. At last the stars came out, and the pipes dropped from each sleeper’s lips. Then the moon rose—a circumstance which rendered their position still more secure—and the fire sank low. But Slugs was too cautious a hunter to trust entirely to the alleged cowardice of the savages. He knew well that many, indeed most of the redskins, bad as well as good, had quite enough of mere brute courage to make them dare and risk a good deal for the sake of scalping a white hunter, so he rose once or twice during the night to replenish the fire and take a look round; and as often as he rose for these purposes, so often did he observe the glittering eye of the Black Swan glaring round the encampment, although its owner never once moved from his recumbent posture.
Thus the night was spent. The first glimmer of daylight found the whole party up and equipped for the journey.
They did not breakfast before setting out, as they preferred to take their morning meal later in the day. Few words were spoken. At that early hour, and in the sleepy condition which usually results from averyearly start, men are seldom inclined to talk. Only one or two monosyllables were uttered as each man rolled up his blanket with his share of the provisions in it, and fastened on his snow-shoes. A few minutes later Robin led the way down the slope, and the whole party marched off in single file, and re-entered the woods.
Chapter Eighteen.Interesting though Puzzling Discoveries.About eight o’clock they halted for breakfast, which Larry O’Dowd prepared with his accustomed celerity, and assisted to consume with his wonted voracity.“There’s nothin’ like aitin’ when yer hungry,” observed Larry, with his mouth full.“’Xcept drinking when you’re dry,” said Stiff, ironically.“Now I don’t agree with ye,” retorted Larry; “I used to think so wance, before I left the owld country—my blissin’ rest on it. I used to think there was nothin’ like drink, an’ sure I was right, for there niverwasanythin’ like it for turnin’ a poor man into a baste; but when I comed into the woods here I couldn’t get drink for love or money, an’ sure I found, after a while, I didn’t need it, and got on better widout it, an’ enjoyed me life more for want of it. Musha! it’s little I care for drink now; but, och! I’ve a mortal love for aitin’!”It needed not Larry’s assurance to convince his hearers of the fact, for he consumed nearly twice as much dried meat as any of his comrades.“Well, if ye don’t drink gin-sling or cocktail,” said Stiff, “you’re mighty hard on the tea.”“True for ye, Stiff, it was the fav’rite tipple o’ me owld mother, an’ I’m fond of it on that score, not to mention other raisins of a private natur’.”“Couldn’t ye make these reasons public?” said Walter.“Unpossible!” said Larry, with much gravity, as he helped himself to another can of tea.“Come, time’s up,” said Robin abruptly, as he rose to put on his snow-shoes.Larry swallowed the tea at a draught, the others rose promptly, and in a few minutes more they were again on the march.Towards noon they issued out of the woods upon a wide undulating country, which extended, as far as the eye could see, to faint blue mountains in the distance. This region was varied in character and extremely beautiful. The undulations of the land resembled in some places the waves of the sea. In other places there were clumps of trees like islets. Elsewhere there were hollows in which lakelets and ponds evidently existed, but the deep snow covered all these with a uniform carpet. In some parts the ground was irregular and broken by miniature hills, where there were numerous abrupt and high precipices.The party were approaching one of the latter in the afternoon, when Robin suddenly paused and pointed to a projecting ledge on the face of one of the cliffs.“What would ye say yonder objic’ was?” he inquired of Slugs.The hunter shaded his eyes with his hand, and remained silent for a few seconds.“Itlookslike a sled,” said he, dropping his hand, “but how it got thar’ would puzzle even a redskin to tell, for there’s no track up to that ledge.”“Itisa sled,” said Black Swan, curtly.“An’ how came it there?” asked Robin.“It fell from the top,” replied the Indian.“Right, lad, yer right!” said Slugs, who had taken another long look at the object in question; “I see somethin’ like a broken tree near the top o’ the precipice. I hope Wapaw hain’t gone an’ tumbled over that cliff.”This supposition was received in silence and with grave looks, for all felt that the thing was not impossible, but the Indian shook his head.“Come, Black Swan,” said Walter, “you don’t agree with us—what think ye?”“Wapaw had no sled with him,” replied the Indian.“Right again!” cried Slugs; “I do believe my sense is forsakin’ me; an Injun baby might have thought of that, for his tracks are plain enough. Hows’ever, let’s go see, for it’s o’ no use standin’ here guessin’.”The party at once advanced to the foot of the precipice, and for nearly an hour they did their utmost to ascend to the ledge on which the sledge lay, but their efforts were in vain. The rock was everywhere too steep and smooth to afford foot-hold.“It won’t do,” said Larry, wiping the perspiration from his brow; “av we had wings we might, but we hain’t got ’em, so it’s o’ no manner o’ use tryin’.”“We shall try from the top now,” said Robin. “If anybodyhastumbled over, the poor crittur may be alive yet, for all we know.”They found their efforts to descend from the top of the precipice equally fruitless and much more dangerous, and although they spent a long time in the attempt, and taxed their wits to the utmost, they were ultimately compelled to leave the place and continue their journey without attaining their object.One discovery was made, however. It was ascertained by the old marks in the snow at the edge of the precipice that, whatever members of the party who owned the sledge had tumbled over, at least two of them had escaped, for their track—faint and scarcely discernible—was traced for some distance. It was found, also, that Wapaw’s track joined this old one. The wounded Indian had fallen upon it not far from the precipice, and, supposing, no doubt, that it would lead him to some encampment, he had followed it up. Robin and his men also followed it—increasing their speed as much as possible.Night began to descend again, but Wapaw was not overtaken, despite the Black Swan’s prophecy. This, however, was not so much owing to the miscalculation of the Indian, as to the fact that a great deal of time had been lost in their futile endeavour to reach the sledge that had fallen over the precipice.About sunset they came to a place where the track turned suddenly at a right angle and entered the bushes.“Ha! the first travellers must have camped here, and Wapaw has followed their example,” said Robin, as he pushed aside the bushes. “Just so, here’s the place, but the ashes are cold, so I fear we are not so near our Injun friend as we could wish.”“Well, it can’t be helped,” cried Stiff, throwing down his bundle; “we’ve had plenty o’ walkin’ for one day, so I vote for supper right off.”“I second the motion,” said Walter, seizing his axe, “seein’ that the camp is ready made to hand. Now, Larry, get your pot ready.”“Sure it’s stuffed full a’ready—an’ I only wish I was in the same state,” said the Irishman, as he pressed the snow tightly into a tin kettle, and hung it over the fire, which Slugs had just kindled.The supper scene of the previous night was, in most of its details, enacted over again; but it was resolved that each of the party should keep watch for an hour, as, if the Indians had followed, there was a possibility of their having gained on them during the delay at the precipice.Before the watch was set, however, and while all the party were enjoying their pipes after supper, the Black Swan suddenly exclaimed, “Ho!” and pointed with his finger to something which peeped out of the snow at Larry’s elbow, that volatile individual having uncovered it during some of his eccentric movements.“It’s only an owld mocassin,” said Larry, plucking the object from the snow as he spoke; “some Injun lad has throw’d it away for useless.”“Hand it here,” said Robin, re-lighting his pipe, which had gone out.Larry tossed the mocassin to his leader, who eyed it carelessly for a moment. Suddenly he started, and, turning the mocassin over, examined it with close and earnest attention. Then he smiled, as if at his passing anxiety, and dropped it on the ground.“It reminded me,” said he to Walter, “of my Nelly, for it has something of the same shape that she was fond of, an’ for a moment I was foolish enough to think it might ha’ belonged to the dear child, but—. Come, Larry, have ’ee got any more tea there?”“Is it tay ye want? faix, then, it’s little more nor laves that’s remainin’,” said Larry, draining the last drops into a pannikin; “well, there’s about half a mug-full, afther all; it’s wonderful what can be got out o’ it sometimes by squaazin’ the pot.”“Hand it over, that’s enough,” said Robin, “thank ’ee, lad—here’s luck.”He drained the pannikin as though it had been a glass of rum, and, smacking his lips, proceeded leisurely to refill his pipe.“Are ye sure it’snotone of Nelly’s old mocassins?” asked Walter, as he eyed the little shoe earnestly.“Sure enough, nephy, I would know her mother’s make among ten thousand, an’ although that one is oncommon like it in some respec’s, it ain’t one o’hers.”“But Nelly might have made it herself,” suggested Walter, “and that would account for its bein’ like her mother’s in the make.”Robin shook his head. “Not likely,” said he. “The child didn’t use to make mocassins. I’m not sure if she could do it at all; besides she was last heard of miles and miles away from here in another direction. No, no, Walter lad, we mustn’t let foolish fancies bother us. However, the sight o’ this has fixed me to push on to-morrow as hard as I can lay my legs to it, for if Wapaw’s alive we can’t fail to come up wi’ him afore sundown; and I’m keen to turn about an’ go after my children. I’ll push on by myself if ye don’t care to keep up wi me.”This latter remark was made to Stiff, whose countenance indicated that he had no desire to undertake a harder day’s march than usual. The effect of the remark was to stir up all the Yankee’s pride.“I’ll tell ’ee what it is,MisterGore,” said he, tartly; “you may think yourself an oncommon hard walker, but Obadiah Stiff is not the man to cave in to any white man alive. I don’t care to go trampin’ over the country day after day, like the Wandering Jew, after a redskin, as, I’ll go bound, ain’t no better than the rest o’ his kind; but if ye want to see which of our legs is the best pair o’ compasses, I’ll walk with ye from here to hereafter, I guess, or anywhar else ye choose; if I don’t, then my name ain’t Stiff.”“It would be well av it worn’t Stiff, for ye’ve no reason to be proud o’t,” observed Larry O’Dowd, with a grin; “don’t spake so loud, man, but shut up yer potatie trap and go to roost. Ye’ll need it all if ye wouldn’t like to fall behind to-morrow. There now, don’t reply; ye’ve no call to make me yer father confessor, and apologise for boastin’; good night, an’ go to slape!”The rest of the party, who had lain down, laughed at this sally, and Stiff, on consideration, thought it best to laugh too. In a few minutes every one in the encampment was sound asleep, with the exception of Robin Gore, who took the first hour of watching, and who sat beside the sinking fire like a Indian in earnest meditation, with his eyes resting dreamily on the worn-out mocassin.
About eight o’clock they halted for breakfast, which Larry O’Dowd prepared with his accustomed celerity, and assisted to consume with his wonted voracity.
“There’s nothin’ like aitin’ when yer hungry,” observed Larry, with his mouth full.
“’Xcept drinking when you’re dry,” said Stiff, ironically.
“Now I don’t agree with ye,” retorted Larry; “I used to think so wance, before I left the owld country—my blissin’ rest on it. I used to think there was nothin’ like drink, an’ sure I was right, for there niverwasanythin’ like it for turnin’ a poor man into a baste; but when I comed into the woods here I couldn’t get drink for love or money, an’ sure I found, after a while, I didn’t need it, and got on better widout it, an’ enjoyed me life more for want of it. Musha! it’s little I care for drink now; but, och! I’ve a mortal love for aitin’!”
It needed not Larry’s assurance to convince his hearers of the fact, for he consumed nearly twice as much dried meat as any of his comrades.
“Well, if ye don’t drink gin-sling or cocktail,” said Stiff, “you’re mighty hard on the tea.”
“True for ye, Stiff, it was the fav’rite tipple o’ me owld mother, an’ I’m fond of it on that score, not to mention other raisins of a private natur’.”
“Couldn’t ye make these reasons public?” said Walter.
“Unpossible!” said Larry, with much gravity, as he helped himself to another can of tea.
“Come, time’s up,” said Robin abruptly, as he rose to put on his snow-shoes.
Larry swallowed the tea at a draught, the others rose promptly, and in a few minutes more they were again on the march.
Towards noon they issued out of the woods upon a wide undulating country, which extended, as far as the eye could see, to faint blue mountains in the distance. This region was varied in character and extremely beautiful. The undulations of the land resembled in some places the waves of the sea. In other places there were clumps of trees like islets. Elsewhere there were hollows in which lakelets and ponds evidently existed, but the deep snow covered all these with a uniform carpet. In some parts the ground was irregular and broken by miniature hills, where there were numerous abrupt and high precipices.
The party were approaching one of the latter in the afternoon, when Robin suddenly paused and pointed to a projecting ledge on the face of one of the cliffs.
“What would ye say yonder objic’ was?” he inquired of Slugs.
The hunter shaded his eyes with his hand, and remained silent for a few seconds.
“Itlookslike a sled,” said he, dropping his hand, “but how it got thar’ would puzzle even a redskin to tell, for there’s no track up to that ledge.”
“Itisa sled,” said Black Swan, curtly.
“An’ how came it there?” asked Robin.
“It fell from the top,” replied the Indian.
“Right, lad, yer right!” said Slugs, who had taken another long look at the object in question; “I see somethin’ like a broken tree near the top o’ the precipice. I hope Wapaw hain’t gone an’ tumbled over that cliff.”
This supposition was received in silence and with grave looks, for all felt that the thing was not impossible, but the Indian shook his head.
“Come, Black Swan,” said Walter, “you don’t agree with us—what think ye?”
“Wapaw had no sled with him,” replied the Indian.
“Right again!” cried Slugs; “I do believe my sense is forsakin’ me; an Injun baby might have thought of that, for his tracks are plain enough. Hows’ever, let’s go see, for it’s o’ no use standin’ here guessin’.”
The party at once advanced to the foot of the precipice, and for nearly an hour they did their utmost to ascend to the ledge on which the sledge lay, but their efforts were in vain. The rock was everywhere too steep and smooth to afford foot-hold.
“It won’t do,” said Larry, wiping the perspiration from his brow; “av we had wings we might, but we hain’t got ’em, so it’s o’ no manner o’ use tryin’.”
“We shall try from the top now,” said Robin. “If anybodyhastumbled over, the poor crittur may be alive yet, for all we know.”
They found their efforts to descend from the top of the precipice equally fruitless and much more dangerous, and although they spent a long time in the attempt, and taxed their wits to the utmost, they were ultimately compelled to leave the place and continue their journey without attaining their object.
One discovery was made, however. It was ascertained by the old marks in the snow at the edge of the precipice that, whatever members of the party who owned the sledge had tumbled over, at least two of them had escaped, for their track—faint and scarcely discernible—was traced for some distance. It was found, also, that Wapaw’s track joined this old one. The wounded Indian had fallen upon it not far from the precipice, and, supposing, no doubt, that it would lead him to some encampment, he had followed it up. Robin and his men also followed it—increasing their speed as much as possible.
Night began to descend again, but Wapaw was not overtaken, despite the Black Swan’s prophecy. This, however, was not so much owing to the miscalculation of the Indian, as to the fact that a great deal of time had been lost in their futile endeavour to reach the sledge that had fallen over the precipice.
About sunset they came to a place where the track turned suddenly at a right angle and entered the bushes.
“Ha! the first travellers must have camped here, and Wapaw has followed their example,” said Robin, as he pushed aside the bushes. “Just so, here’s the place, but the ashes are cold, so I fear we are not so near our Injun friend as we could wish.”
“Well, it can’t be helped,” cried Stiff, throwing down his bundle; “we’ve had plenty o’ walkin’ for one day, so I vote for supper right off.”
“I second the motion,” said Walter, seizing his axe, “seein’ that the camp is ready made to hand. Now, Larry, get your pot ready.”
“Sure it’s stuffed full a’ready—an’ I only wish I was in the same state,” said the Irishman, as he pressed the snow tightly into a tin kettle, and hung it over the fire, which Slugs had just kindled.
The supper scene of the previous night was, in most of its details, enacted over again; but it was resolved that each of the party should keep watch for an hour, as, if the Indians had followed, there was a possibility of their having gained on them during the delay at the precipice.
Before the watch was set, however, and while all the party were enjoying their pipes after supper, the Black Swan suddenly exclaimed, “Ho!” and pointed with his finger to something which peeped out of the snow at Larry’s elbow, that volatile individual having uncovered it during some of his eccentric movements.
“It’s only an owld mocassin,” said Larry, plucking the object from the snow as he spoke; “some Injun lad has throw’d it away for useless.”
“Hand it here,” said Robin, re-lighting his pipe, which had gone out.
Larry tossed the mocassin to his leader, who eyed it carelessly for a moment. Suddenly he started, and, turning the mocassin over, examined it with close and earnest attention. Then he smiled, as if at his passing anxiety, and dropped it on the ground.
“It reminded me,” said he to Walter, “of my Nelly, for it has something of the same shape that she was fond of, an’ for a moment I was foolish enough to think it might ha’ belonged to the dear child, but—. Come, Larry, have ’ee got any more tea there?”
“Is it tay ye want? faix, then, it’s little more nor laves that’s remainin’,” said Larry, draining the last drops into a pannikin; “well, there’s about half a mug-full, afther all; it’s wonderful what can be got out o’ it sometimes by squaazin’ the pot.”
“Hand it over, that’s enough,” said Robin, “thank ’ee, lad—here’s luck.”
He drained the pannikin as though it had been a glass of rum, and, smacking his lips, proceeded leisurely to refill his pipe.
“Are ye sure it’snotone of Nelly’s old mocassins?” asked Walter, as he eyed the little shoe earnestly.
“Sure enough, nephy, I would know her mother’s make among ten thousand, an’ although that one is oncommon like it in some respec’s, it ain’t one o’hers.”
“But Nelly might have made it herself,” suggested Walter, “and that would account for its bein’ like her mother’s in the make.”
Robin shook his head. “Not likely,” said he. “The child didn’t use to make mocassins. I’m not sure if she could do it at all; besides she was last heard of miles and miles away from here in another direction. No, no, Walter lad, we mustn’t let foolish fancies bother us. However, the sight o’ this has fixed me to push on to-morrow as hard as I can lay my legs to it, for if Wapaw’s alive we can’t fail to come up wi’ him afore sundown; and I’m keen to turn about an’ go after my children. I’ll push on by myself if ye don’t care to keep up wi me.”
This latter remark was made to Stiff, whose countenance indicated that he had no desire to undertake a harder day’s march than usual. The effect of the remark was to stir up all the Yankee’s pride.
“I’ll tell ’ee what it is,MisterGore,” said he, tartly; “you may think yourself an oncommon hard walker, but Obadiah Stiff is not the man to cave in to any white man alive. I don’t care to go trampin’ over the country day after day, like the Wandering Jew, after a redskin, as, I’ll go bound, ain’t no better than the rest o’ his kind; but if ye want to see which of our legs is the best pair o’ compasses, I’ll walk with ye from here to hereafter, I guess, or anywhar else ye choose; if I don’t, then my name ain’t Stiff.”
“It would be well av it worn’t Stiff, for ye’ve no reason to be proud o’t,” observed Larry O’Dowd, with a grin; “don’t spake so loud, man, but shut up yer potatie trap and go to roost. Ye’ll need it all if ye wouldn’t like to fall behind to-morrow. There now, don’t reply; ye’ve no call to make me yer father confessor, and apologise for boastin’; good night, an’ go to slape!”
The rest of the party, who had lain down, laughed at this sally, and Stiff, on consideration, thought it best to laugh too. In a few minutes every one in the encampment was sound asleep, with the exception of Robin Gore, who took the first hour of watching, and who sat beside the sinking fire like a Indian in earnest meditation, with his eyes resting dreamily on the worn-out mocassin.