“An attack,” gasped Jack.
“And we’re not there to help old Bob,” cried Frank, in an agony of apprehension. “Come on. Don’t stop to finish dressing.”
Shirt flapping out over his trousers, shoes unlaced, Frank frantically buckled on his revolver and cartridge belt, seized his rifle and started on a dead run through the trees. Jack did likewise. As they ran, they heard the shots continuing intermittently, and then once more—clearer and closer at hand, as they neared the knoll—came Bob’s voice:
“Frank, Jack, they’re rushing me. Look out for yourselves.”
There was a crashing in the brush ahead.
“Down, Jack, some of them coming.”
The two flung themselves prone behind a spruce whose low branches swept the ground. The sounds were off to their left. A moment later the forms of four men, hurrying towards the channel whencethey had just come, could be seen eight or ten yards away.
Jack’s face was pale, his lips set. Frank was trembling with excitement and fear—not for himself, if the truth must be told, for the plucky lad was not thinking of himself, but for his chum, who was holding off the main attack alone.
“Steady, Frank,” whispered Jack. “Bob’s life depends on us. This is no time for false compunctions. You’ll have to shoot to kill.”
“All right, Jack.”
Then the two rifles spoke as one, and two of the runners stumbled, flung out their arms to save themselves, and pitched forward. The others spun about towards the direction whence the boys had fired, but a second time Frank and Jack fired, and they, too, fell.
“No time to see how badly they were hit,” said Jack. “Come on. Old Bob’s still alive and shooting.”
Forward they dashed once more, not neglecting, however, to keep wary watch as they ran. No more of the enemy were seen, however. There was a sudden uproar ahead, the shots ceased. Cries of astonishment, stupefaction, even a note of fear, went up from several throats. Above all was a bull-like roar that they readily identified as coming from Bob’s throat.
Frank’s heart gave an exultant leap. He knew that yell. It came only when Bob went berserk, and fought with his hands. He had heard it when they fought Mexican bandits, Chinese smugglers, rum runners on Long Island and Incas in the Andes. He knew well what it meant.
Almost at the same moment, they burst into the glade at the base of the knoll, and came to a dead halt, eyes popping, standing as if rooted to the spot.
But only for a moment. Then they started tearing up the hillside, among the scattered trees. For at the top was a whirling heap of figures, as if caught up in a cyclone, and well they knew what it portended. Somewhere in the center of the group was big Bob, at close grips with the enemy, and not caring how many they numbered.
Would they be in time? Could they help Bob before some half-breed succeeded in sticking a knife into him?
But Bob proved that he could handle his own affairs, for while they were still several yards away, first one and then another half-breed was spewed from the miniature whirlwind, and then Bob could be seen with several men clinging to his legs and another on his back, attempting apparently to throttle him. The big fellow’s hands went up and back. They settled under the other’s armpits. There was a sudden mighty heave and wrench, andthen the man on Bob’s back came flying through the air, straight for Bob’s two comrades. He had been tossed from Bob’s shoulders, as a strong man would toss a sack of meal. Frank and Jack leaped aside, and the man struck the ground, rolled over and over and then lay still, crumpled up against the trunk of a spruce.
Recovering from their surprise, Jack and Frank leaped forward. But their intervention was unnecessary. Standing like a young Colossus, legs apart, with a man wreathed about each, Bob bent down. One big hand seized each by the neck. Then the two heads were bumped together once, twice. The half-breeds collapsed. Their grip on Bob’s legs relaxed, and he tossed them aside, and they, too, lay still. He had knocked them out.
Then Bob did a surprising thing. He leaped with a murderous look for the two boys.
“More of you, hey?”
They sprang aside nimbly, eluding his grasp.
“Bob, Bob, it’s us.”
“What? What? Oh, you—”
Bob looked at them, the battle lust dying in his eyes, and recognition dawning. It was followed by a wide grin.
“Oh, it’s you.”
“Bob, old thing, that was the greatest fight inhistory,” cried Frank, hysterically, clapping his chum on the back.
“Never saw the like,” said Jack, doing likewise. “Thank God, Bob, you’re alive.”
“Never was more alive in my life,” said Bob. “Hey, they’re running away.”
He darted away from his chums and sprang downhill. True enough. The two whom he had disposed of first, who had dropped out of the fight, had gained their feet and were running madly through the trees.
Jack ran after Bob and restrained him.
“Let them go, Bob. They are alone. There are three others here we must tie up before they come to.”
Bob followed him back to where Frank was bending over the man whom the big fellow had tossed over his head. The half-breed was recovering consciousness, and beginning to moan.
“Broken arm, I think,” said Frank. “He’ll not bother us. How about the two whose heads you bumped together?”
“They’re recovering consciousness, too,” said Jack. “Nothing much the matter with them. We had better tie them up, so they can’t cause us any trouble.”
“Here, take the other fellow’s belt and tie his hands behind his back with it,” said Bob. At thesame time, he suited action to word in the case of the nearer of the two, whipped off the fellow’s belt and tied him with it.
“Won’t they try to run away, Bob? Ought we to tie their legs, too?”
“No, we’ll just keep an eye on them. Let’s take a look at the other. If his arm is broken we’ll have to set it somehow, I guess. Rather pitch him in the lake, though. He’s a villainous looking rascal. Tried to choke me, too, and darn near succeeded.”
While Frank kept an eye on the two other prisoners, who had now recovered consciousness and were beginning to realize their situation but lay still under the threat of Frank’s rifle, Bob and Jack examined the third man.
His senses were returning, and he moaned a good deal. Examinations revealed, however, that his arm had not been broken, merely badly wrenched.
“I’m mighty glad of that,” said Jack. “We’d have been up against it to set a broken arm.”
“Oh, we could do it, all right, if necessary,” said Bob. “But I’m glad, too, that it isn’t necessary. But, say, Jack”—with sudden recollection, and an air of anxiety—“there were four more of these scoundrels. We’ll have to look out for them.”
Jack’s voice shook a little as he replied.
“I think not, Bob,” he said. “Frank and I sawthem first. We ambushed them, practically. They didn’t have a chance.”
“You don’t mean—”
Jack’s gaze was steady but troubled.
“We had to do it, old man,” he said. “It was our life or theirs. And yours, especially. When we heard your shout, and those first shots, Frank went wild with fear that you had been trapped while we were away enjoying ourselves. And I guess I felt as bad as he did.”
“Hey, fellows,” interrupted Frank, hailing them, “the two that got away must have been all that were left. They’ve jumped in a canoe and are paddling like mad for the mainland.”
“Can you see them?” called Jack, starting to the top of the knoll to join his chum.
“How would I know what they were doing if I couldn’t?” rejoined Frank. “Yes, I can see them. Look there.”
He pointed.
“Tie up that other fellow, Bob, and make him walk up here to join his little playmates,” Jack called back.
Bob complied. The man groaned, but by now he had fully recovered his senses, and he obeyed Bob’s order to move with an alacrity that showed he stood in abject fear of the husky young American.
Frank pointed out the fleeing men, who werenearing the mainland, and paddling with superhuman energy, as if fleeing from the Old Nick, no less.
“That accounts for all of them, I guess,” he said. “So we can sit down now, Bob, while you tell us how it happened.”
“Not much to tell,” said Bob, sinking to a seated position against the tree trunk. “Except I went to sleep and was almost surprised, but not quite. My first intimation that the enemy was near was when I heard somebody talking in the trees at the foot of this knoll. Or, did I hear anybody? Was it just the old sixth sense giving warning of danger? I don’t rightly know. At any rate, I woke with a start and looking down through the trees saw a bunch of half-breeds making their way towards the other side of the island.
“I tell you I was scared. I felt guilty as sin. Here I had promised to keep watch, and, instead, had fallen asleep. As a result, the half-breeds had landed on the island, and were heading for where you fellows were swimming. I had endangered your lives. What should I do? That was the question.
“But I didn’t waste must time, puzzling over it. I knew I had to give you fellows warning or you would be taken by surprise. So I yelled to you as loud as I could to look out. I guess they hadn’t seenme up till then. But when I yelled, they saw me quick enough, and several of them opened fire, and——”
“Wait a minute, Bob,” Frank interrupted, his eyes shining. “They hadn’t seen you, and you could have let them pass without attracting their attention, but you yelled, just to give us a chance for our white alley. That’s, that’s—”
“Oh, forget it,” said Bob, uncomfortably. “You’d have done the same. Anyway,” he hurried on, “they split up into two groups, and one kept on going, while the other rushed me before I could do much shooting, and—well, I guess you know the rest,” he concluded, lamely.
“I’ll say we do,” said Frank, gripping his big comrade’s shoulder. “Boy, I’ll never see the like of that fight again.”
“But, Bob, I wonder why they rushed you instead of trying to shoot you down,” said Jack.
“Search me,” said Bob.
“I’ll bet I know,” said Frank.
“What?” asked both.
“They wanted to take you alive, Bob, for some reason of their own. Probably, would have tried to take us alive, too, if they’d gotten the chance.”
“Well, maybe so,” said Bob. “Anyhow, that’s that. Now what shall we do?”
Jack and Frank regarded each other with distaste and even horror in their eyes.
“Has to be done, though,” said Jack, as if in answer to a remark of Frank’s.
Frank nodded.
“I know.”
“What are you two chumps talking about?” asked Bob.
“Those four men we shot down, you know,” Frank explained.
“Think you—”
Bob’s question went uncompleted.
“I don’t know,” Frank replied. “We shot straight. It was your life and ours against theirs.”
“Well, come on. I know how you feel, but I expect that’s the first thing to be attended to. If any of them is no more than wounded, it will be up to us to do what we can for him.”
“Right, Bob,” said Jack.
“Come on,” Frank said shortly, starting down the hillside, in the direction of their successful, though impromptu, ambuscade.
“Go easy,” warned Bob. “If they’re able to shoot, they’ll take a crack at us.”
Bob’s advice was followed, and the trio approached the spot warily. But precaution was needless, or, while still some distance away, they could see the four bodies outstretched motionless where they had fallen. Frank’s face went white, and he shuddered. Jack was pale. Big Bob, although he had had no hand in the affray, had to take a grip on himself, in order to force his laggard steps to continue. Though many were the affairs of danger in which they had been, the boys had never before shot to kill nor had death been brought so close to them.
Frank stopped. He was trembling violently.
“I—I can’t look at them,” he gasped.
Bob threw an arm over his shoulders.
“You and Jack stay here,” he ordered, gruffly. “I had no hand in this. I’m the fellow to attend to it. Wait for me.”
At that Frank protested, and started to proceed. But Bob shoved him back, kindly but firmly.
“The pair of you have been through enough,” he said. “Do as I say. Wait here.”
And with quick, firm step, keeping himself to thetask, he plunged on through the trees. For a moment or two both Frank and Jack watched him fascinatedly, then Frank sank down to a sitting position, elbows propped on his knees, his face in his hands. Jack faced about, and stared unseeing through the trees.
Presently, Bob’s solid, crunching footsteps could be heard approaching, and they looked up. His face was grave, but unflinching.
“Look here, fellows,” he said, firmly, “may as well face the facts. All four were killed instantly. Drilled through the—— But why discuss it? The fact is, they’re dead. They were rascals of the first water, and, as you say, it was their lives or ours. Self-preservation is the first law of Nature. Now, what are we going to do about it? We haven’t any tools to dig with.”
Frank shook himself into alertness.
“Let’s get the axes—our outfit has some—and cut off some spruce boughs and cover them over. Then we can roll some stones on top.”
As quickly as possible, without speaking during the task, and working feverishly, the three carried out Frank’s idea. Then, back at camp, they sat down and brewed a pot of coffee. The hot, scalding liquid steadied their shaken nerves.
“Guess we better try to get in touch with your father, Jack,” suggested Bob, at length.
“How long have they been gone?”
Bob looked at his watch.
“Three hours. Seems like a lifetime.”
“Things have certainly happened fast,” said Frank. “Thank goodness, that party missed our radio. If they had destroyed it, we would have been out of luck.”
“More luck than I deserve,” said Bob, savagely. “Think of going to sleep on the job. If I had been awake, they never would have been able to land.”
“Forget it, Bob. You certainly have nothing to reproach yourself with.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense,” said the big fellow. “I’m always getting you into trouble.”
Frank smiled.
“Yes, and then getting us out again,” he said.
“Well, let’s try the radio, anyway,” suggested Jack. “They’ve been gone three hours. With the best of luck they can’t have made more than eight or ten miles, considering the detour they planned to take, and everything.”
“Couldn’t have gotten that far away in a straight line,” said Frank.
“No, I guess not. But what if they aren’t prepared for a call from us?”
“Oh, with that improved ring set of yours, your father will be proceeding fully equipped to hear from you,” said Frank. “He need only wear theheadphone, and I seem to remember he said on leaving that he would keep it on most of the time.”
Jack nodded. The improvement in the ring set, spoken of by Frank, had done away with the necessity for the umbrella aerial.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll call Dad on 200 meters. If he gets the message we ought to hear from him shortly, for he’ll at once unlimber the field transmitting set and call us back.”
While Jack sent out a terse description of the fight and its outcome, Frank and Bob decided to steady their nerves by fishing and went down to the lakeside. They had reasonable success and had pulled out a number of fish when Jack joined them.
“Send out your message, Jack?” Frank inquired.
“Yes, and heard from Father in reply, too.”
“What? Why, great guns, how long have we been here? Surely, you can’t have had time to hear from your father?”
“But, I have,” affirmed Jack. “You’ve been here more than an hour.”
Bob and Frank looked at each other. In all that time, neither had spoken a word. They had just dozed over their lines, pulling in an occasional fish. Frank laughed.
“I guess we went to sleep with our eyes open,” he confessed. “Well, what did your father say?”
“They made a long trek up the lake before crossingover, and are not very far away—somewhere up in that direction—on the other shore, there,” said Jack, pointing. “Dad was worried as the deuce at my story, and they’re coming back.”
“Coming back? Why? It’s all over now.”
“That’s what I told him, Frank. But he’s coming back, anyway. They’re going to get back to the lake, and come straight down to the island. Ought to be here in a couple of hours or less.”
“May as well wait dinner for them, in that case,” observed Bob. “Or what meal is it? Breakfast, lunch, or dinner? I’m sure I don’t know. This perpetual sunshine has me all turned around. I don’t know whether it’s day or night.”
“Same here,” confessed Frank. “I do know, though, that I’m beginning to get up an appetite.” Then a thought, a thought which his somnolent daydreaming over the fishing lines had driven away for the time, crossed his mind, and he paled. “I don’t know though”—catching his breath—“whether I’ll ever want to eat again.”
Jack looked at him sharply. So did Bob. The big fellows noted with apprehension the twisted, stricken look on their slighter chum’s face, and the haunted appearance of his eyes. To Bob’s keen eyes, moreover, two hectic spots glowing brightly in the dark tan of Frank’s cheeks were apparent.
“Look here, old man,” said Bob, anxiously, “youwant to quit thinking about that or you’ll be sick.”
“Sick?” Frank tried to force a laugh. “I’m the healthiest invalid ever you saw.”
“No, Frank, I mean it. Put that thought out of your mind, or you will be sick. Why—”laying a hand on his brow—“you’ve got a fever right now.”
Jack was worried, too.
“Great guns, Frank, you must take Bob’s advice. What if you came down sick? We’d be in a pretty fix.”
“Oh, you fellows make me tired,” said Frank, irritatedly. “I’m all right.”
But Bob’s worry was not routed. He took his chum by an arm and started marching him toward camp.
“I’m going to give you a dose of calomel and make you lie down,” he said. “Come on.”
“Calomel? Have a heart.”
“Yes, calomel,” said Bob, firmly. “That’s what you need, that and a nap.”
Picking up the fish, Jack followed. And at the camp, despite Frank’s vehement protests, he was made to swallow a liberal dose of calomel, and then to lie down on a couch of spruce boughs, over him the little tent belonging to Mr. Hampton to provide shade from the northern sun. Jack and Bob sat down, some distance away, and started cleaning the fish. They talked together in low tones.Presently, after several glances toward the motionless figure, Bob arose and tiptoed close to it. On his return, he nodded, smiling slightly, at Jack.
“Asleep,” he said. “Didn’t want to do it, but overworked Nature was too much for him. I’m a little bit worried. His nerves got a severe shock. But I guess he’ll be all right when he wakes up.”
Then he glanced more keenly at Jack.
“Look here, you’ve been through the same experience. I had a nap. Now you’re going to take one. Sleep will be good medicine for you, too. We don’t want two sick ones on our hands.”
Jack didn’t protest, but also turned in beside Frank, and in a few minutes was sound asleep. As Bob had said, overworked Nature claimed her dues.
This time Bob did not go to sleep on the job, but at the first faint indication that somnolence was stealing upon him, arose and stamped about vigorously. Once, prompted by a humane inclination, he paused by the three prisoners who lay in the shade, hands and feet tied, and proffered them a drink of water. The courtesy and thoughtfulness was totally unexpected, as Bob could see by the surprise in their eyes, although no words were exchanged, and they drank eagerly in great gulps. The half-breed whom Bob had pitched over his head was in considerable pain because of his wrenched arm, as Bob could see from his occasional writhings, and Bob decided to chance trouble by loosening his bonds. In addition, he rummaged their stores and brought out a bottle of liniment for sprains and bruises, with which he bathed the twisted member.
“You good man,” whispered the other, gazing athim, as Bob bent to the task, and speaking in a voice barely audible to Bob’s ears, and certainly not to the other two men a short distance away. “I tell you something—not now—bimeby—when they not know.”
Bob thought quickly.
“All right,” he responded, in the same low tone. “I’ll fix it.”
“Yes.” The other nodded. “You fix it.”
“Now what in the world has he got to tell me?” Bob asked himself, as he moved away. “Probably, something about Lupo the Wolf. At any rate, I can’t see what else it can be. Was grateful because I gentled him a little—after first maltreating him.” He smiled at the irony of this thought. “Well, Mr. Hampton will soon be here, no doubt. Then there will be a chance to question him apart from his fellows.”
And with that, he dismissed the matter from his mind. Jack now rolled over, sat up and came out from under the tent, yawning. Frank continued sunk in heavy slumber.
“By George,” said Bob, looking at his watch, “two hours since you started to take your nap. Run down to the shore, will you, and take a look to see if there is any sign of your father. We left these fellows alone once”—nodding to their prisoners—“but I felt it wasn’t wise to try it toooften. Something might happen. So I’ve been sticking close to camp.”
Jack nodded.
“Yes, that time you were fishing. It was foolish for me to run down after you, but I just had to tell you about hearing from Father.”
He set out for the shore.
A few minutes later, Bob heard his comrade give a joyful shout. It was answered by a fainter hail from the water. Faint though it was, however, it was unmistakable. Mr. Hampton was approaching.
Presently there was a babble of voices approaching, and the returning party came into view, Jack in the lead flanked by his father and Farnum, with MacDonald, Dick and Art bringing up the rear. Jack was eagerly explaining what had occurred at camp since his father’s departure.
“Hello, Bob,” said Mr. Hampton, coming up, and gripping the big fellow’s hand hard. “Had some excitement while we were gone?”
“Yes, we did, Mr. Hampton. Thought this was going to be a loafing assignment you left us on—nothing to do but hang around camp and swim and fish—and the minute you turn your backs something happens.”
“How’s Frank?”
“Jack told you, did he?”
Mr. Hampton nodded.
“He’s still asleep,” said Bob. “The necessity of shooting to kill was a shock to his nerves. Nature took him in hand. See.” He indicated where Frank lay as in a stupor in the tent, unmoved by the arrival of the returning party.
“He’ll sleep for hours yet,” said Mr. Hampton, “if we don’t make too much noise. I’ll caution the others. Best medicine in the world for him. He’ll be all right when he wakes, I expect.”
While Dick put on the fish, for all were hungry, Bob and Jack, in lowered voices, told the others all that had occurred. Bob repeated his condemnation of himself for having fallen asleep and permitted the enemy to land unopposed, but Mr. Hampton rested a hand on his shoulder, and told him not to be foolish.
“In the first place,” he said, “there seemed to be no reason why you should keep strict watch. It hardly seemed likely these fellows would boldly approach the island.”
“Expect they saw us set out, after all,” suggested MacDonald, “and figured the whole party hadn’t gone, and that them left behind would be on ’tother side of the island, so’s they could land and surprise ’em.”
Nods of agreement followed this statement. It was, indeed, the most likely explanation. Over thepuzzle as to why Bob had not been slain by those attacking him, but who, instead, had tried merely to make him prisoner, nobody had any suggestion to offer other than that earlier advanced by the boys themselves, that they enemy wished to take them alive.
“Reckon Lupo thought he’d get some information from you,” said MacDonald.
“But he wasn’t here,” Bob protested.
“No, but you can bet they were actin’ on his orders.”
Bob bethought him of the prisoner, who had whispered that he had something to tell him. He explained to the others. Mr. Hampton thought for a moment.
“I have it,” he said. “Art, bring the others here and we’ll question them. At the same time, Bob, do you slip off and talk to your man. We’ll keep the pair occupied, so that they won’t be able to see. Tell your man that presently, then, we’ll call him up to be questioned, too, and that he’s to pretend sullen obstinacy and refuse—in the presence of his comrades—to answer any questions.”
Bob nodded and, as Art went for the pair, he slipped away in an opposite direction. Executing a flank movement through the trees, he presently arrived on the opposite side of the camp and got behind the tree, against which the man with thewrenched shoulder was sitting. In a rapid whisper he communicated Mr. Hampton’s instructions to the other. The fellow comprehended, and then in a low tone, scarcely audible to Bob, who strained to hear, communicated surprising intelligence.
Bob heard him out, then with a final word of caution, again slipped away, once more skirted camp through the trees, and approached the group from the waterside. The two other half-breeds were being grilled, but without success. At Bob’s approach, Mr. Hampton turned again to Art.
“Bring that other fellow here,” he commanded. “See if he knows any more than these men.”
The man was brought into the council, but, acting on instructions, maintained an obstinate silence.
“Oh, take them away, and feed them,” said Mr. Hampton finally, as if despairing of obtaining any information. “We’ll talk to them later, after I’ve eaten. Dick’s fish will get cold if we don’t fall to, and I’m too hungry to delay with these rascals.”
The men, whose ankle bonds had been removed, were returned to the other side of the camp and, with their hands untied, were permitted to eat under the watchful eyes of Dick and Art. Then once more they were tied up.
Meantime, Mr. Hampton turned eagerly to Bob, as soon as the trio of prisoners was out of hearing.
“Out with it, Bob,” he said. “I can see you’re dying to tell us. Must be important.”
“It is,” said Bob, emphatically.
“What did he say?”
“Mr. Hampton, you think we’re alone in this wilderness except for Lupo’s gang?”
“I don’t know who else would be here. This is country that white men never get into.”
“Well, Thorwaldsson, Farrell and three followers of their party of ten are not more than two hundred miles away; perhaps less than that.”
“What! Say that again.”
Mr. Hampton was so excited he almost dropped his portion of fish into the fire.
“It’s true,” said Bob. “At least that’s what this fellow, Long Tom, declares. Long Tom—that’s his name.”
“How does he know?”
It was MacDonald who asked the question, and Bob turned to him.
“That’s what I asked him. He said Thorwaldsson had been attacked before he reached the oil country, and Thorwaldsson, Farrell and four of his men cut off from their camp. Those in the camp were killed, and Thorwaldsson’s supplies looted. He says a big band of Indians committed the outrage.”
“At whose orders?” asked Mr. Hampton.
“Merely operating on their own, says Long Tom. He was with them. They wanted the loot. What they didn’t understand, they destroyed.”
“That’s why nothing has been heard of Thorwaldsson,” said Mr. Hampton, “for his radio equipment must have been among ‘the things they didn’t understand.’ Go on, Bob.”
“Long Tom thinks Thorwaldsson spent the Winter with the Eskimos up on the rim of the Arctic Ocean.”
“Where has he been? What became of the Indians?”
“They were a hunting party, as far as I could gather, who, after chasing Thorwaldsson up to the Eskimos, left the country. But Long Tom wintered with some Eskimos near Union Straits himself, and this Spring started out. Then he fell in with Lupo, who he knew, and joined him.”
“And how does he know where Thorwaldsson is now? Why does he say Thorwaldsson is so close?”
“Says he ran across an Eskimo hunter on his way out, who told of Thorwaldsson having wintered with his tribe, and learned Thorwaldsson was on his way out down the Coppermine—or up it, whichever you choose to call it. Though that was weeks ago, he believes Thorwaldsson would be following watercourses that would put him about one hundred andfifty or two hundred miles to the northeast of us.”
“Well, Bob, you certainly learned a lot,” said Mr. Hampton. “Was that everything? Or did Long Tom know or have anything to say about Lupo?”
“He doesn’t know why Lupo is after us, except that it has something to do with Thorwaldsson. That’s all I could get out of him. Pretty indefinite, but it was the best I could do.”
“Indefinite! Nonsense, Bob. That is something to go on, indeed.”
“And to think that old Bob got it all just because he was kind to a fellow with a sore arm and put some liniment on it,” said Jack.
Taking everything into consideration, Mr. Hampton decided that before any further steps were taken, the wisest plan would be for all to get a good rest. Frank still lay as if in a stupor; Jack looked and confessed to being shaky; even Bob was tired from the strain of the terrific fight through which he had gone, coming upon the top of many hours of exhausting travel. As for the rest, they had done practically three days’ work with little or no rest in the short interval between.
“Altogether,” said Mr. Hampton, summing up, “we are in no fit condition to set out in immediate pursuit of Lupo and the remainder of his men, nor even to decide wisely as to what to do. It may be that the best plan would be not to pursue Lupo but to set off at once to try and find Thorwaldsson. I, for one, am too tired even to think straight. So I vote that we make camp, set watches and turn in for a good rest. I believe I could sleep the clock around.”
“If you think you can trust me with the first watch, Mr. Hampton,” muttered Bob, shamefacedly, “I’d like to have it. I’ll promise you not to go to sleep on the job again.”
Mr. Hampton slapped the big fellow on the back in kindly fashion, as Bob leaned forward, seated on the ground beside him.
“Forget it, Bob,” he said. “You have nothing with which to reproach yourself. Certainly you can have the first watch, if you want it. I expect the rest of us will be only too glad of the opportunity to turn in at once. As to there being any further danger, however, I very much doubt it. You boys have given Lupo a terrible blow. With four men killed and three prisoners, he must be short-handed. If he had only twelve or fourteen, as we believe, his number now is less than ours. The consequence is, that I cannot conceive of his attempting again to attack us here on the island. However, a watch must be kept, so go to it.”
Everybody agreeing with this program, Bob took the first watch and the rest scattered around the camp, under the spruces, and soon were sleeping soundly. When the time to change watches came, with nothing alarming having broken the calm, Bob waked MacDonald, and himself turned in. After that, he did not have even a disturbing dream and was disturbed by nothing until awakened by beingshaken. He looked up and found Frank bending above him, his face alight with merriment.
“Hey, which of the Seven Sleepers are you?” demanded Frank.
Bob ignored the query, his mind leaping at once to the picture of Frank as he had last seen him. In his voice was a note of thankfulness at finding Frank thus carefree, as he said:
“How do you feel, old man?”
“Never better,” confessed Frank. “Sleep is certainly the right medicine, isn’t it?”
“Don’t I know it!”
Bob yawned luxuriously, and rubbed his eyes.
“Come on, Bob, let’s take a plunge in the channel. Just got up myself. It’ll wake us up, make us feel good. Everybody’s up now, and Dick fixing to get breakfast. He and Art and MacDonald are fishing. Mr. Hampton and Farnum are talking things over. And here comes Jack, just piled out of the feathers, too. The three of us can have a fine swim.”
Bob was agreeable to this proposition, and they set out for the place where Frank and Jack had gone in for a plunge before. Without referring to the tragic little mound beneath which lay the bodies of the four half-breeds shot down by Frank and Jack, the boys, as if by common consent, lay their course through the trees so as to avoid passing near it.
The water, as Frank had predicted, was delightfully invigorating, and refreshed and with the young blood tingling in their veins, after a long sleep and a good swim, they returned to camp. They brought voracious appetites with them, but fortunately the fishermen had pulled in a big haul of beauties, and these, together with flapjacks made by that skillful chef, Art, and washed down with coffee tasting like none ever made in city restaurants, the whole having the tang of the outdoors and woodland smoke for sauce, made a delectable repast.
“Now,” said Mr. Hampton, at its conclusion, “now for a discussion of what’s to be done.”
Thereupon he set forth the facts of the situation. Lupo with five or six men at most was still at large. He might have turned back. He might be in hiding nearby. He might have gone on ahead in search of Thorwaldsson. In any case, Mr. Hampton declared, he felt it would be a waste of time to search for him in view of the fact that they had learned Thorwaldsson was somewhere to the north and east and their primary object was to join forces with that explorer. He wanted to know what the others had to say.
Farnum, who had been talking matters over with Mr. Hampton, sat silent, nodding approval. The other was stating his own views. But MacDonald voiced a protest.
“From your point of view, sir,” he said, “I reckon you’re right. But am I to let Lupo escape now that I come so close to gettin’ him? And what am I to do with three prisoners on my hands?”
“I’ve been turning that phase of the situation over and over,” said Mr. Hampton. “I cannot see that we can afford to diverge in pursuit of Lupo, now that we have pretty definite information through that fellow, Long Tom, of Thorwaldsson’s presence alive and with some of his men in this wilderness. I know what a blow it will be to you to give up the chase, but it can’t be helped. You have three prisoners, and can’t very well watch them and pursue Lupo, too. They are criminals, and as a member of the Mounted you must take them in. We can’t leave you to handle them alone, however, and——”
He paused.
“And what, sir,” prompted MacDonald.
“Well, the least we can do, MacDonald, is to leave one of our number with you. That will enable you to keep guard against surprise, watch over your prisoners, and wait for the arrival of aid from your Post. We’ll wireless your Captain Jameson full details of all that has occurred, give him your position here, and then you can wait for relief.”
MacDonald looked thoughtful. He was silent several minutes, while none spoke, but all watched him expectantly.
“If you won’t help me try and round up Lupo, you won’t, and that’s all there is to it,” he said, finally. “Not as I blame you, neither. You got your job, to git hold of Thorwaldsson and help him. With only a handful o’ men he may be in trouble, too. Seems natural-like, if whoever is agin you fellows sent this cutthroat Lupo to cut you off, he’d likely be after Thorwaldsson, too.”
Mr. Hampton nodded.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said, “that Thorwaldsson may need our aid.”
“Just so,” continued MacDonald. “Such bein’ the case, your best plan is to try and find him soon as you can.”
“Then you agree to my plan?”
“Not so fast,” said MacDonald. “You’ll give me a man, hey?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Why—I——”
“Give me this feller,” said MacDonald, laying a hand on Bob who sat beside him. “He’s a fighter.”
“I couldn’t do that, MacDonald. The boys must come with me.”
“All right. Only that fight he put up—that was a good one. Kind o’ wished I could have him by me. Well, then, let me have this feller. Kin seehe’s used to big woods and river country. He’d make a good Mounty.”
This time MacDonald pointed the stem of his pipe at Dick.
“What do you say, Dick?” asked Mr. Hampton. “It’s up to you?”
“I’d have to go out with the Mounties to their Post, wouldn’t I? Probably have to winter there.”
MacDonald nodded.
“Get you a job on the Force,” he said.
Dick’s eyes shone. Middle-aged though he was, he was alone in life, loved the wilderness, and still thrilled to adventure.
“That so?” he asked. “Need men?”
“Always room for a good one.”
“All right. It’s a go,” said Dick.
MacDonald nodded approval, spat in the fire, then turned again to Mr. Hampton.
“Such being the case,” he said, “when you talk to Captain Jameson over that there contraption, just tell him I’m on my way in.”
“What?”
“Sure. Think Dick and me would sit here with three no-account breeds on our hands and wait for help from four hundred miles away to arrive? No. We’ll take ’em in.”
“But two of you, alone, and with three prisoners on your hands!”
“Nothing to that. Once I brought in four single-handed. Never thought of calling for help except I had luck enough to capture Lupo and more of his gang.”
Mr. Hampton looked astounded. He turned to Dick.
“But how about you, Dick?”
“If MacDonald says so, I’m game.”
“Knew you would be,” said MacDonald. “That’s settled. Now call Captain Jameson, and let’s get goin’. You want to be on your way, and we may as well be on ours.”
“But, MacDonald,” said Mr. Hampton, trying one last protest, “suppose Lupo and the remainder of his gang see you start, and follow and attack you. What then?”
“Huh.” MacDonald’s eyes snapped. “Couldn’t ask for no better luck. I’d get a shot at him then.”
Farnum interrupted at this stage.
“It’s no use trying to stop him and Dick,” he said. “I know Dick and I know these men of the Mounted. They’re holy terrors. And the pair of them will get away with it, too.”
Mr. Hampton knew when he was beaten, and abandoned his protests. Captain Jameson once more was called by wireless, and given a full account of what had occurred. He approved MacDonald’sscheme and promised there would be a position on the Force for Dick when he arrived.
“Well, Dick,” said Mr. Hampton, after all arrangements were made for departure, and he led him aside, “I’ve been pleased, indeed, with your ready help and cheerfulness on the trip. I hate to part company with you. Here is a check for the full sum I promised you for this Summer’s work. And here in addition is something to remember me by.”
Into Dick’s unwilling hand he pressed a handsome gold watch which he himself had worn for some years.
“Oh, Mr. Hampton, this is too good for a rough fellow like me to carry,” protested Dick.
“Now, now, nonsense,” said Mr. Hampton. “Nothing is too good for you, old man. I want you to keep that to remember me by.”
“I don’t need the watch for that, sir,” said Dick gruffly, sticking it in his pocket nevertheless.
The big canoe which Dick and Art had captured from the Indians was turned over to MacDonald. It was easily capable of transporting five—the three prisoners, MacDonald and Dick. With the two latter in the bow and stern respectively, and the prisoners unarmed between, there was little danger so long as MacDonald and Dick maintained reasonable watchfulness. Two of the half-breeds were cowed and broken in spirit, moreover, while Long Tom washors de combaton account of the injury to his arm, and would be for some time to come. MacDonald’s skin kayak was to be towed behind, containing his slender outfit, and one of the prisoners could carry the whole business alone at portages.
MacDonald had entered the lake by a considerable stream flowing into it from the southwest, and not the stream down which the Hampton party had come. He set out for this other stream before the others quit the island, with the intention of retracinghis steps into the wilderness in large measure. This would facilitate his travel. Farther to the south, he said, was a large river which could be reached by a ten-mile portage, and down which they could travel for many miles.
“If you ever want to join the Mounted,” he said to Bob, to whom he had taken a great fancy, “let me know. I’ll fix it for you.”
Bob laughed, but he was young enough to be flattered by the sincere compliment.
“I may take you up on that some day,” he said. “Who knows?”
Then MacDonald stepped into the canoe, goodbyes were said, and the craft shot away.
“There go a couple of good men,” commented Farnum, as under the powerful strokes of the paddles the canoe drew swiftly down the lake.
“One good man, anyhow,” said Art, who overheard the observation. “Ol’ Dick an’ me had a li’l talk. I’m going to join up with the Mounted, too, when we git back. We been pals fifteen year.”
“Fifteen years,” exclaimed Frank. “In the wilderness all that time?”
Art nodded absently, his eyes on the retreating canoe.
“Sure,” said Art. “It’s home to us. Ain’t no wilderness. Cities is the real wilderness. Dick an’ me’s been separated now and then, like now, but wealways come together agin. I expect when we git to be old men like some prospectors I seen we’ll be together all the time, fightin’ and jawin’ each other, but ready to tear the heart out o’ anybody that jumps one of us.”
“It’s a wonder Dick went off with MacDonald like he did, in that case,” said Jack.
“Huh. Somebody had to go. He knew we’d meet agin.”
Art said no more, but turned away to busy himself with the outfit.
Presently everything was in readiness for departure and then the two remaining canoes, with the outfit distributed between them, the three boys in one and the three men in the other, started up the lake in the opposite direction from that taken by MacDonald and Dick. Previously, when in pursuit of Lupo, Mr. Hampton had discovered the lake was of so considerable extent that, despite their hours of travel up the side, they had been unable to discern the farther end. In fact, the lake broadened out considerably some distance beyond the island. It was his intention, inasmuch as it followed the general northeastward direction they would pursue, to stick to it as long as possible. He believed there would be some stream at the farther end sufficiently large to float their canoes.
In this he was not mistaken, for after four hoursof steady paddling, they discerned the outlet of a stream of considerable width, quartered across the lake and entered it. Almost immediately Jack called to his father, in surprise:
“Dad! Oh, Dad! This stream flows out of the lake; not into it. Do you notice?”
The leading canoe slowed up while the boys approached.
“It certainly does, Jack,” said his father. “What do you make of it, Farnum?”
The latter shook his head, puzzled.
“I don’t know,” he said. “You must remember this is unexplored country. We’re liable to find anything here. But, maybe——”
“What?”
“I don’t know. We’re near the Coppermine, aren’t we, Art?”
“Figure we must be.”
“Maybe this stream flows into the Coppermine.”
“I’ll bet that’s it,” Art approved. “The waters of that lake empty into the Coppermine. Yes, sir; I’ll bet that’s what it is. Well, that makes travel easy for awhile, anyhow.”
Two days of travel, unbroken by any but routine incidents such as the occasional shooting of wild duck Or geese, brought the party at camping time at the end of the second day to a pleasant, open, grassyprairie between two low-wooded hills. Here it was decided to make camp.
After the evening meal was over, and while Mr. Hampton, who was feeling out of sorts, retired to his little tent to try and sleep without taking part in the usual desultory conversation about the fire—which was kept going for the companionship and cheer it imparted and not from any need of warmth you may be sure—Jack arose and stretched.
“My legs are stiff from that position in the canoe all day,” he said. “I want to stretch them a bit. Who’ll come with me to the top of that nearest hill? The sun is pretty low, but we ought to get a considerable view.”
Bob and Frank both volunteered to accompany him. Farnum sat, smoking his pipe and staring into the fire absently. He didn’t care to go. But Art arose and joined the party. It was not far to the top of the hill, although a stiff climb through the trees and brush. The crest, however, was bare of timber.
Frank, who lighter than the others, was first to reach the top, stood struck with amazement. He turned to beckon the others forward with one hand, while laying the other over his mouth in a gesture enjoining silence.
“For the love o’ Pete,” whispered Art, eyes bulging, as he stood beside Frank and peered down intothe grassy vale beyond, half overgrown with young willows.
“Are they caribou?” asked Jack, low-voiced. “They don’t look like the caribou we’ve run across along the streams.”
“They ain’t, neither,” said Art. “They’re reindeer.”
“Must be Santy Claus’s,” chuckled Bob. “Always did believe there was something to that story about the old boy living up here near the North Pole, even though people insisted on calling it a fairy tale. Now I know.”
His joke was ignored, however, as Art continued:
“Yes, sir, reindeer. Caribou are always brown. Some o’ these are white, some brown, and some spotted. Then they ain’t the size o’ caribou. Besides, I know they’re reindeer. I see ’em often enough in Alaska to know.”
“Alaska? Do these reindeer come from there?”
Art nodded.
“Look at ’em. They’re tame. Must’a winded us, but that don’t scare ’em none. They’re used to humans. No more scared o’ bein’ hunted than cattle are back in the States.”
“Tame?” queried Frank. “What do you mean?”
“Why, the Eskimos in Alaska, not the wild one, of this Far North, but the regular ones that come in touch with the white man, they keep herds o’ reindeerjust like a farmer in the States keeps cows. Look at ’em. Must be two-three hundred there right now. They’re eight-ten hundred miles from home, too. Must ’a wandered away. Bet you there’s a desprit Eskimo lookin’ for ’em right now.”
Jack looked thoughtful.
“What a shame for a man to lose a big herd like that,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” affirmed Art emphatically. “Must be six-seven thousand dollars worth o’ tame reindeer there. Pretty tough.”
“We can’t do anything about it, though,” said Bob.
“Seems a pity-like we can’t ride herd on ’em till some Eskimo shows up to claim ’em,” said Art. “But it can’t be done. Yore father, Jack, is all for pushin’ on fast as we kin.”
After some further discussion, the party retraced its steps, with Art explaining to the boys the big difference existing between the semi-civilized Eskimos of Alaska and the little that was known of the wild Eskimos of the Arctic.
“Folks think Alaska’s right up next to the North Pole,” he said. “Leastways folks in the States do. People comin’ to Nome from the States every so often give me that knowledge. But they’re shore mistaken. Alaska’s great country that’ll be settled up some day. Shore, we got hard Winters. Butboys, in the Summer, with the sun a-shinin’ all the time, everything grows just three times as fast as in the States. My Pap was a farmer back in York State, an’ I was raised on a farm. We had hard scratchin’ an’ our Winters was long an’ hard, too. An’ we didn’t have Summers like in Alaska to make up for ’em. I’ll bet if my Pap were livin’ today an’ farmin’ in Alaska he’d find life a lot easier than what we had it on the old farm.”
“But why don’t more people live in Alaska, then?” asked Frank.
“Oh, I don’t know. Hard to get to, for one thing. Ain’t developed up with railroads, neither. Some day, though, you’ll see ’em forced to come here, the way they’re a-crowdin’ up down in the States. Why, we got only 60,000 people in all Alaska, yet she’s quarter as big as the States an’ could darn near feed the whole push herself, if she was put to it and farmed right.”
“Art, why don’t you go to farming? I’d think that would be the thing for you to do.”
“Mebbe I will some day,” said Art. “But I’m an old batch. Got no wife, an’ kind o’ like to feel free to knock around instead o’ bein’ tied to one place.”
It was a feeling with which the boys could sympathize. They were young, with life ahead of them, and they wanted to see the world. In fact theyhad seen a good deal of it already, as those who have followed them through their various adventures, know. Of this they spoke as they made their way back to camp, where they discovered Farnum ready to turn in, and merely awaiting their return before doing so. Since their first encounter with Lupo, and their discovery that they were not alone in the wilderness, a watch was always kept, and Farnum had combatted sleepiness in order to keep guard until their return.
“Art, you’ve got the first watch,” he said, when they appeared. “The rest of you better turn in, and not sit up talking. With luck we ought to make the Coppermine tomorrow, I figure, and then we’ll do some traveling. We’ve got to hit a fast pace from now on, for already we are having real twilight, and pretty soon we’ll be having short nights while the sun dips entirely below the horizon. That means the season is growing short, and we have not got much time left before we’ll have to start for the outside.”
Jack and Bob heeded the injunction and followed Farnum’s example shortly, but Frank, who did not feel sleepy and, moreover, loved to talk, sat up a considerable time gossiping with Art and telling him of some of their previous adventures.
Suddenly, as he talked along, low-voiced so asnot disturb the nearby sleepers, Frank noticed Art was not paying attention, and stopped.
“Oh, well,” he said, half petulantly, “if I’m boring you——”
Art leaned close, and laid a hand on his arm.
“Sorry, Frank,” he said, in a whisper, “but I was a-listenin.’ I got a strange feelin’ like as if somebody had his eyes on the back a’ my head. I wasn’t payin’ no attention to you but a-listenin’ to see if I could hear anything.”
He was so intense that he communicated some of his trepidation to Frank. Instinctively, the latter reached for his rifle as Art half stood up to peer at their twilit surroundings. They were camped in a tiny grove of a half dozen spruces, like an islet in a midst of long, matted grass.
As Art stood up, a single shot rang out, shattering the stillness. He threw himself prone, dragging Frank down with him. Then a fusillade was poured in on them, seemingly from all sides.
“Watch my back, Frank. Keep low behind that nearest tree and let ’em have it. They’re in that long grass.”
As he spoke Art, worming his way rapidly forward to a position behind the trunk of one of the spruces, began firing rapidly.
Frank, in the opposite direction, fired several shots into the long grass. He had an uncanny feeling, for he could see no forms at which to fire, and the preliminary volley poured into the camp was not repeated, so he had no index as to the enemy positions.
Jack, Bob and Farnum, rolled over, awakened by the shots, but Frank called fiercely: “Keep down.”
Realizing something of the situation, the three grabbed their rifles, laying by their sides, and, keeping down, prepared to fire as soon as they could see something at which to aim.
Mr. Hampton stirred in his tent a moment later. He had been sleeping hard, and had not awakened instantly as had the others. Moreover, a dull ache gripped his head, preventing him from thinking clearly and from comprehending instantly what was occurring. He lay a moment, wondering what had awakened him. All was still outside, for Frank and Art had ceased firing to await some sign from the unseen enemy. Mr. Hampton decided to peer out and investigate what had disturbed him. He crawled from his dog tent and stood up.
At his appearance, a ragged volley burst once more from the long grass surrounding the tiny grove, for his figure stood forth clearly and made an excellent target. Spinning about, Mr. Hampton fell heavily to the ground.
A wild yell of triumph went up at this indication that the leader had been hit. Jack leaped up regardless of consequences and ran to his father, dragging him into the tent, while bullets whipped around him. Bob ran to his assistance. To the hidden enemy it must have seemed as if their opponents were demoralized. At any rate, they grew more courageous, and started a rush.
From three sides, it came, the figures of the oncoming men only partially seen as they crouched low and darted through the grass. But the long stems waving above them marked their paths, andthere were three still on watch who would have to be dealt with.
Frank, Art and Farnum marked where the waving grass indicated the enemy. Each guarded a side of the little grove. On the fourth side lay the stream.
“Wait’ll they’re close, fellows, then give it to ’em,” cautioned Farnum. “Ready. Let’s go.”
The three repeating rifles spoke as one, and from the long grass came howls and shrieks of pain and terror. What followed was brief but lively. Each of the three pumped his rifle as fast as possible, and the bullets poured into the grass almost as fast as if sprayed from the throat of a machine gun. The return fire was heavy but high, whipping through the branches of the spruce trees overhead.
Reinforcements added to the strength of the defenders, for Bob darted out of the tent, crouched over, and flung himself beside Frank, beginning to shoot even as he talked.
“Mr. Hampton escaped by a miracle,” he said. “Bullet creased his head and stunted him. He’ll be all right.”
The rush was broken. Whoever was in the grass, feared to advance farther in the face of that fire. The long grass ceased to wave, indicating the attackers had come to a halt. But they did not retreat. The menace was still there.
“Anybody hit?” Farnum called out.
“Not me,” said Art.
“Nor me,” answered Frank.
“Thank our lucky stars for that,” answered Farnum.
They all lay in a semi-circle, facing different directions, but close enough to each other to make communication in ordinary tones possible. Relieved to discover that all were untouched, despite the bullets that had rained on the camp, Farnum next inquired anxiously after Mr. Hampton, and Bob answered he had been only stunned.
“I reckon these fellows are Lupo and his gang,” Farnum remarked. “But he must have had more men than we expected, or he wouldn’t be attacking us like this.”
“What’ll we do?” growled Art. “Looks like they got us penned in.”
“Oh, but we stopped their rush,” protested Frank.
“Yes,” said Art, “but they ain’t beatin’ it as I can see. An’ when we want to up an’ leave camp, what’s goin’ to happen?”
Frank was about to reply, when Bob who was beside him, pointed with his rifle toward the gap between the two hills, from the top of one of which they earlier had seen the reindeer herd in the next valley.
“Look there, Frank,” he exclaimed excitedly. “What do you make of that?”
“Where? I don’t——Oh, yes; now I see. Something moving.”
“Sure is something moving,” Bob said.
Already the short twilight was beginning to lighten, as the sun after its dip to the edge of the northern horizon now swung higher.
“Bob.”
“What?”
“I believe that’s the reindeer herd.”
“From that valley over the hill? The reindeer we saw when we were up there on the hill top?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But how in the world?”
“Why, I noticed that the other valley swung around between those two little hills. The reindeer are just grazing along, hunting new pasture. And, say, Bob!”
“Well, what now?”
“I’ve got a bully idea.”
Abruptly, Frank wormed his way around to face Art on his right, who was keeping watch against surprise on his side of the little clump of trees sheltering them.
“Art,” said he, “look over there, between those two little hills. Are those reindeer? The reindeer we saw from the hilltop?”
“Reckon so,” said Art, after a critical inspection.
“Well, Art, can reindeer be stampeded? Like cattle, I mean.”
“Reckon so. Why?”
“Well, I’m going to try it,” Frank declared in a determined tone. Still prone, he began to wriggle out of his clothes, and pulling up his legs, to unlace his boots and kick them off.
“Are you crazy, Frank?” Bob demanded, puzzled, while Art and Farnum took their eyes from the coverts ahead to look at Frank in astonishment.
“Crazy? No more than usual,” Frank replied, as he completed disrobing, and now lay naked under the spreading branches of the spruce. “But I’m going to slip into the water and float down to that hill, then get in behind the reindeer and stampede them. You see what’ll happen then, don’t you?”
Bob stared at his companion, wide-eyed. Dawning comprehension crept into his eyes, and he began to smile. Then he chuckled.
“You little hound,” he said, employing a pet expression among the boys, denoting admiration.
“But, say, what’s the idea?” demanded Art sharply, from his position several yards away.
Frank had started wriggling forward, and waited until he was close to Art and Farnum before replying. Then he repeated his assertion that he intended floating downstream until behind the slow-movingherd of reindeer, when he would land and attempt to stampede them.
“You see how it is,” he said. “You yourselves admit that we’re in a tight place. Lupo’s forces have cover in that long grass, and can wait us out. Here among the trees there is no grass to hide us. The minute we get up and start to move around, we expose ourselves. Therefore, the best thing to do, is to drive them out of their cover, isn’t it?”
“Sure,” said Art. “But how you going to do it with——”