[Contents]CHAPTER XVIA DOUBLE SURPRISEThe thing happened on a fine quiet summer afternoon. Ganawa and Ray were enjoying the fine weather near the tepee. Bruce had taken the canoe and the dog across the river and was sitting on a knoll from which he had a fine view of a short stretch of the river. He was thinking over the plan that Ganawa had proposed for the future. “We must either travel up the river,” Ganawa had said, “or we must start off for another part of the country, perhaps to some big lake.”The whole plan seemed sort of bootless and headless to Bruce and he felt decidedly blue about the whole outlook. “We might as well,” he thought, “hunt for a certain pebble somewhere on the shore of Lake Superior, as expect to find Jack Dutton or[130]anybody else in this endless wilderness of a million lakes and streams and rivers and rocky hills. If anybody lived in this God-forsaken country, the black flies and mosquitoes wouldn’t be so hungry. I think Jack and I were a couple of big …” and then the train of his thought was suddenly broken by something he saw coming around the bend in the river. Bruce stood up to make sure he was not mistaken. No, there it was. An Indian in a small birch-bark canoe was paddling hard up-stream, and the fellow had a gun leaning in the bow of the canoe. He was close to the other shore, and would see Ganawa’s camp before Ganawa or Ray were likely to see him. Bruce knew that Ganawa expected no friendly visitor, in fact, he thought he recognized the Indian. Bruce was too far from camp to call to Ganawa. For a moment he did not know what to do, and then he did a desperate thing. He fired his gun and let out as wild a yell as he could utter.At the sound of the gun the Indian[131]stopped, turned his canoe and paddled down-stream as fast as he could go. Bruce and Tawny did their best to follow along the bank, but as there was no trail on that side of the stream they could not keep up with the fleeing canoe. It was with some difficulty that Bruce restrained the dog from jumping into the swift current. Several times Bruce almost kicked the dog back into the brush. “Get back, you fool dog,” he called. “You will go over the falls!” And while Bruce tried to keep the fleeing Indian in sight, he wondered if Ganawa and Ray had heard his shot and his yell, and he felt much provoked that they did not turn out to capture the fellow when he had to land above the falls.Only once the fleeing Indian looked around and Bruce yelled in Chippewa: “Stop! Stop! Get him, Ganawa!” And again he had to restrain the madly barking dog from jumping into the treacherous smooth current just above the falls.And then Bruce felt as if his heart was[132]going to stop beating. That Indian was losing control of his canoe. He was straining every muscle to land on the left bank; but, as if pulled by invisible hands, that canoe was drawn to the right and was approaching that terrible narrow chute, which is the beginning of the roaring falls. For a brief half minute Bruce watched the struggle between the man and the river. But just as Bruce expected the man and the canoe to be drawn into the chute, the Indian stood up, dropped his paddle and, with a mighty effort, sprang to a rock at the very head of the chute. He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet, but the recoil of his spring pushed the canoe into the chute, where a second or two it seemed to stand on its head, and then it disappeared. For a moment it looked as if the Indian was hurt and would not be able to move; but he recovered quickly, bounded over the rocks, and ran down the steep trail to the Big Pool.He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet.He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet.Page 132.Bruce walked back swiftly to the place where he had left the canoe and crossed over[133]to the camp. “I bet,” he thought, “Ray and Ganawa are both asleep in the tepee.” But he was mistaken; the two had gone fishing to the mouth of a small creek. Bruce at once followed them and found them about a mile up-stream. When Ganawa heard what had happened his eyes flashed, he dropped his pole and said, “We must go and follow the man’s trail.”On the way to camp he asked a number of questions of Bruce. “How did the Indian look? What did he wear? Did he have a gun?”“He was short and squatty,” Bruce told. “He wore his hair sort of half-long, not in a braid. I did not get a good look at his face, but when he looked around I thought he looked like a bad man, but I thought he also looked scared.“I was surprised to see him jump out of the canoe. He missed the rock with his feet, but clung to it with his hands. He wore moccasins, leggings, and a hunting-shirt of buckskin.”[134]“Did he have a gun?” Ganawa repeated somewhat eagerly.“Yes, he had a gun,” Bruce asserted. “It was leaning in the bow of the boat, but he jumped for the rock without it, and the gun went over the falls with the canoe.”“We must follow him,” repeated Ganawa. “If he had been a friend, he would not have run away. He was a man who had some evil in his heart. You must take Ohnemoosh, but you must tie a rope to him so he cannot run away from us and make a big noise with barking and tell the man that we are coming.”On the way down the steep trail to the Big Pool, Ganawa pointed to some tracks and whispered, “Wet moccasins,” and when Tawny smelled at the tracks his hair bristled and he tried hard to break away from Ray.If the lads had expected to find the Indian at the Big Pool, they were disappointed. Several pieces of the canoe were travelling round and round in the pool, and Ray caught a cedar-wood paddle, but of the[135]gun they found no trace. They followed the trail past the two miles of the rapids below the pool with the dog eagerly leading and straining at the rope, but a few rods below the rapids where the water flows along placidly, carrying patches of foam on its surface, the dog lost the trail.Ray led him back several times and then released him so he could range as he pleased, but it was all in vain; the trail either ended suddenly or, for some reason, the dog could not follow it any farther.The three sat down to think it over. The dog also sat down and with a puzzled whine looked at his human friends as if to say: “I don’t know what this means. Can’t you tell me?”And then Ganawa arose and said: “My sons, I can tell you why the dog cannot follow the trail beyond this point. The man stopped here, jumped into the river and swam across. It is good that he lost his gun, for we know now that he cannot come back and harm us during the night. We[136]should not follow him across the stream. It may be that he will never come back, for he knows that his gun is lost and that his canoe was broken where the river leaps over the big steps of the rocks to the whirling pool. And now we must return to our camp, for we have not tasted food since this morning, and we are all very hungry.”[137]
[Contents]CHAPTER XVIA DOUBLE SURPRISEThe thing happened on a fine quiet summer afternoon. Ganawa and Ray were enjoying the fine weather near the tepee. Bruce had taken the canoe and the dog across the river and was sitting on a knoll from which he had a fine view of a short stretch of the river. He was thinking over the plan that Ganawa had proposed for the future. “We must either travel up the river,” Ganawa had said, “or we must start off for another part of the country, perhaps to some big lake.”The whole plan seemed sort of bootless and headless to Bruce and he felt decidedly blue about the whole outlook. “We might as well,” he thought, “hunt for a certain pebble somewhere on the shore of Lake Superior, as expect to find Jack Dutton or[130]anybody else in this endless wilderness of a million lakes and streams and rivers and rocky hills. If anybody lived in this God-forsaken country, the black flies and mosquitoes wouldn’t be so hungry. I think Jack and I were a couple of big …” and then the train of his thought was suddenly broken by something he saw coming around the bend in the river. Bruce stood up to make sure he was not mistaken. No, there it was. An Indian in a small birch-bark canoe was paddling hard up-stream, and the fellow had a gun leaning in the bow of the canoe. He was close to the other shore, and would see Ganawa’s camp before Ganawa or Ray were likely to see him. Bruce knew that Ganawa expected no friendly visitor, in fact, he thought he recognized the Indian. Bruce was too far from camp to call to Ganawa. For a moment he did not know what to do, and then he did a desperate thing. He fired his gun and let out as wild a yell as he could utter.At the sound of the gun the Indian[131]stopped, turned his canoe and paddled down-stream as fast as he could go. Bruce and Tawny did their best to follow along the bank, but as there was no trail on that side of the stream they could not keep up with the fleeing canoe. It was with some difficulty that Bruce restrained the dog from jumping into the swift current. Several times Bruce almost kicked the dog back into the brush. “Get back, you fool dog,” he called. “You will go over the falls!” And while Bruce tried to keep the fleeing Indian in sight, he wondered if Ganawa and Ray had heard his shot and his yell, and he felt much provoked that they did not turn out to capture the fellow when he had to land above the falls.Only once the fleeing Indian looked around and Bruce yelled in Chippewa: “Stop! Stop! Get him, Ganawa!” And again he had to restrain the madly barking dog from jumping into the treacherous smooth current just above the falls.And then Bruce felt as if his heart was[132]going to stop beating. That Indian was losing control of his canoe. He was straining every muscle to land on the left bank; but, as if pulled by invisible hands, that canoe was drawn to the right and was approaching that terrible narrow chute, which is the beginning of the roaring falls. For a brief half minute Bruce watched the struggle between the man and the river. But just as Bruce expected the man and the canoe to be drawn into the chute, the Indian stood up, dropped his paddle and, with a mighty effort, sprang to a rock at the very head of the chute. He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet, but the recoil of his spring pushed the canoe into the chute, where a second or two it seemed to stand on its head, and then it disappeared. For a moment it looked as if the Indian was hurt and would not be able to move; but he recovered quickly, bounded over the rocks, and ran down the steep trail to the Big Pool.He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet.He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet.Page 132.Bruce walked back swiftly to the place where he had left the canoe and crossed over[133]to the camp. “I bet,” he thought, “Ray and Ganawa are both asleep in the tepee.” But he was mistaken; the two had gone fishing to the mouth of a small creek. Bruce at once followed them and found them about a mile up-stream. When Ganawa heard what had happened his eyes flashed, he dropped his pole and said, “We must go and follow the man’s trail.”On the way to camp he asked a number of questions of Bruce. “How did the Indian look? What did he wear? Did he have a gun?”“He was short and squatty,” Bruce told. “He wore his hair sort of half-long, not in a braid. I did not get a good look at his face, but when he looked around I thought he looked like a bad man, but I thought he also looked scared.“I was surprised to see him jump out of the canoe. He missed the rock with his feet, but clung to it with his hands. He wore moccasins, leggings, and a hunting-shirt of buckskin.”[134]“Did he have a gun?” Ganawa repeated somewhat eagerly.“Yes, he had a gun,” Bruce asserted. “It was leaning in the bow of the boat, but he jumped for the rock without it, and the gun went over the falls with the canoe.”“We must follow him,” repeated Ganawa. “If he had been a friend, he would not have run away. He was a man who had some evil in his heart. You must take Ohnemoosh, but you must tie a rope to him so he cannot run away from us and make a big noise with barking and tell the man that we are coming.”On the way down the steep trail to the Big Pool, Ganawa pointed to some tracks and whispered, “Wet moccasins,” and when Tawny smelled at the tracks his hair bristled and he tried hard to break away from Ray.If the lads had expected to find the Indian at the Big Pool, they were disappointed. Several pieces of the canoe were travelling round and round in the pool, and Ray caught a cedar-wood paddle, but of the[135]gun they found no trace. They followed the trail past the two miles of the rapids below the pool with the dog eagerly leading and straining at the rope, but a few rods below the rapids where the water flows along placidly, carrying patches of foam on its surface, the dog lost the trail.Ray led him back several times and then released him so he could range as he pleased, but it was all in vain; the trail either ended suddenly or, for some reason, the dog could not follow it any farther.The three sat down to think it over. The dog also sat down and with a puzzled whine looked at his human friends as if to say: “I don’t know what this means. Can’t you tell me?”And then Ganawa arose and said: “My sons, I can tell you why the dog cannot follow the trail beyond this point. The man stopped here, jumped into the river and swam across. It is good that he lost his gun, for we know now that he cannot come back and harm us during the night. We[136]should not follow him across the stream. It may be that he will never come back, for he knows that his gun is lost and that his canoe was broken where the river leaps over the big steps of the rocks to the whirling pool. And now we must return to our camp, for we have not tasted food since this morning, and we are all very hungry.”[137]
CHAPTER XVIA DOUBLE SURPRISE
The thing happened on a fine quiet summer afternoon. Ganawa and Ray were enjoying the fine weather near the tepee. Bruce had taken the canoe and the dog across the river and was sitting on a knoll from which he had a fine view of a short stretch of the river. He was thinking over the plan that Ganawa had proposed for the future. “We must either travel up the river,” Ganawa had said, “or we must start off for another part of the country, perhaps to some big lake.”The whole plan seemed sort of bootless and headless to Bruce and he felt decidedly blue about the whole outlook. “We might as well,” he thought, “hunt for a certain pebble somewhere on the shore of Lake Superior, as expect to find Jack Dutton or[130]anybody else in this endless wilderness of a million lakes and streams and rivers and rocky hills. If anybody lived in this God-forsaken country, the black flies and mosquitoes wouldn’t be so hungry. I think Jack and I were a couple of big …” and then the train of his thought was suddenly broken by something he saw coming around the bend in the river. Bruce stood up to make sure he was not mistaken. No, there it was. An Indian in a small birch-bark canoe was paddling hard up-stream, and the fellow had a gun leaning in the bow of the canoe. He was close to the other shore, and would see Ganawa’s camp before Ganawa or Ray were likely to see him. Bruce knew that Ganawa expected no friendly visitor, in fact, he thought he recognized the Indian. Bruce was too far from camp to call to Ganawa. For a moment he did not know what to do, and then he did a desperate thing. He fired his gun and let out as wild a yell as he could utter.At the sound of the gun the Indian[131]stopped, turned his canoe and paddled down-stream as fast as he could go. Bruce and Tawny did their best to follow along the bank, but as there was no trail on that side of the stream they could not keep up with the fleeing canoe. It was with some difficulty that Bruce restrained the dog from jumping into the swift current. Several times Bruce almost kicked the dog back into the brush. “Get back, you fool dog,” he called. “You will go over the falls!” And while Bruce tried to keep the fleeing Indian in sight, he wondered if Ganawa and Ray had heard his shot and his yell, and he felt much provoked that they did not turn out to capture the fellow when he had to land above the falls.Only once the fleeing Indian looked around and Bruce yelled in Chippewa: “Stop! Stop! Get him, Ganawa!” And again he had to restrain the madly barking dog from jumping into the treacherous smooth current just above the falls.And then Bruce felt as if his heart was[132]going to stop beating. That Indian was losing control of his canoe. He was straining every muscle to land on the left bank; but, as if pulled by invisible hands, that canoe was drawn to the right and was approaching that terrible narrow chute, which is the beginning of the roaring falls. For a brief half minute Bruce watched the struggle between the man and the river. But just as Bruce expected the man and the canoe to be drawn into the chute, the Indian stood up, dropped his paddle and, with a mighty effort, sprang to a rock at the very head of the chute. He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet, but the recoil of his spring pushed the canoe into the chute, where a second or two it seemed to stand on its head, and then it disappeared. For a moment it looked as if the Indian was hurt and would not be able to move; but he recovered quickly, bounded over the rocks, and ran down the steep trail to the Big Pool.He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet.He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet.Page 132.Bruce walked back swiftly to the place where he had left the canoe and crossed over[133]to the camp. “I bet,” he thought, “Ray and Ganawa are both asleep in the tepee.” But he was mistaken; the two had gone fishing to the mouth of a small creek. Bruce at once followed them and found them about a mile up-stream. When Ganawa heard what had happened his eyes flashed, he dropped his pole and said, “We must go and follow the man’s trail.”On the way to camp he asked a number of questions of Bruce. “How did the Indian look? What did he wear? Did he have a gun?”“He was short and squatty,” Bruce told. “He wore his hair sort of half-long, not in a braid. I did not get a good look at his face, but when he looked around I thought he looked like a bad man, but I thought he also looked scared.“I was surprised to see him jump out of the canoe. He missed the rock with his feet, but clung to it with his hands. He wore moccasins, leggings, and a hunting-shirt of buckskin.”[134]“Did he have a gun?” Ganawa repeated somewhat eagerly.“Yes, he had a gun,” Bruce asserted. “It was leaning in the bow of the boat, but he jumped for the rock without it, and the gun went over the falls with the canoe.”“We must follow him,” repeated Ganawa. “If he had been a friend, he would not have run away. He was a man who had some evil in his heart. You must take Ohnemoosh, but you must tie a rope to him so he cannot run away from us and make a big noise with barking and tell the man that we are coming.”On the way down the steep trail to the Big Pool, Ganawa pointed to some tracks and whispered, “Wet moccasins,” and when Tawny smelled at the tracks his hair bristled and he tried hard to break away from Ray.If the lads had expected to find the Indian at the Big Pool, they were disappointed. Several pieces of the canoe were travelling round and round in the pool, and Ray caught a cedar-wood paddle, but of the[135]gun they found no trace. They followed the trail past the two miles of the rapids below the pool with the dog eagerly leading and straining at the rope, but a few rods below the rapids where the water flows along placidly, carrying patches of foam on its surface, the dog lost the trail.Ray led him back several times and then released him so he could range as he pleased, but it was all in vain; the trail either ended suddenly or, for some reason, the dog could not follow it any farther.The three sat down to think it over. The dog also sat down and with a puzzled whine looked at his human friends as if to say: “I don’t know what this means. Can’t you tell me?”And then Ganawa arose and said: “My sons, I can tell you why the dog cannot follow the trail beyond this point. The man stopped here, jumped into the river and swam across. It is good that he lost his gun, for we know now that he cannot come back and harm us during the night. We[136]should not follow him across the stream. It may be that he will never come back, for he knows that his gun is lost and that his canoe was broken where the river leaps over the big steps of the rocks to the whirling pool. And now we must return to our camp, for we have not tasted food since this morning, and we are all very hungry.”[137]
The thing happened on a fine quiet summer afternoon. Ganawa and Ray were enjoying the fine weather near the tepee. Bruce had taken the canoe and the dog across the river and was sitting on a knoll from which he had a fine view of a short stretch of the river. He was thinking over the plan that Ganawa had proposed for the future. “We must either travel up the river,” Ganawa had said, “or we must start off for another part of the country, perhaps to some big lake.”
The whole plan seemed sort of bootless and headless to Bruce and he felt decidedly blue about the whole outlook. “We might as well,” he thought, “hunt for a certain pebble somewhere on the shore of Lake Superior, as expect to find Jack Dutton or[130]anybody else in this endless wilderness of a million lakes and streams and rivers and rocky hills. If anybody lived in this God-forsaken country, the black flies and mosquitoes wouldn’t be so hungry. I think Jack and I were a couple of big …” and then the train of his thought was suddenly broken by something he saw coming around the bend in the river. Bruce stood up to make sure he was not mistaken. No, there it was. An Indian in a small birch-bark canoe was paddling hard up-stream, and the fellow had a gun leaning in the bow of the canoe. He was close to the other shore, and would see Ganawa’s camp before Ganawa or Ray were likely to see him. Bruce knew that Ganawa expected no friendly visitor, in fact, he thought he recognized the Indian. Bruce was too far from camp to call to Ganawa. For a moment he did not know what to do, and then he did a desperate thing. He fired his gun and let out as wild a yell as he could utter.
At the sound of the gun the Indian[131]stopped, turned his canoe and paddled down-stream as fast as he could go. Bruce and Tawny did their best to follow along the bank, but as there was no trail on that side of the stream they could not keep up with the fleeing canoe. It was with some difficulty that Bruce restrained the dog from jumping into the swift current. Several times Bruce almost kicked the dog back into the brush. “Get back, you fool dog,” he called. “You will go over the falls!” And while Bruce tried to keep the fleeing Indian in sight, he wondered if Ganawa and Ray had heard his shot and his yell, and he felt much provoked that they did not turn out to capture the fellow when he had to land above the falls.
Only once the fleeing Indian looked around and Bruce yelled in Chippewa: “Stop! Stop! Get him, Ganawa!” And again he had to restrain the madly barking dog from jumping into the treacherous smooth current just above the falls.
And then Bruce felt as if his heart was[132]going to stop beating. That Indian was losing control of his canoe. He was straining every muscle to land on the left bank; but, as if pulled by invisible hands, that canoe was drawn to the right and was approaching that terrible narrow chute, which is the beginning of the roaring falls. For a brief half minute Bruce watched the struggle between the man and the river. But just as Bruce expected the man and the canoe to be drawn into the chute, the Indian stood up, dropped his paddle and, with a mighty effort, sprang to a rock at the very head of the chute. He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet, but the recoil of his spring pushed the canoe into the chute, where a second or two it seemed to stand on its head, and then it disappeared. For a moment it looked as if the Indian was hurt and would not be able to move; but he recovered quickly, bounded over the rocks, and ran down the steep trail to the Big Pool.
He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet.He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet.Page 132.
He barely clung to the rock with hands and feet.
Page 132.
Bruce walked back swiftly to the place where he had left the canoe and crossed over[133]to the camp. “I bet,” he thought, “Ray and Ganawa are both asleep in the tepee.” But he was mistaken; the two had gone fishing to the mouth of a small creek. Bruce at once followed them and found them about a mile up-stream. When Ganawa heard what had happened his eyes flashed, he dropped his pole and said, “We must go and follow the man’s trail.”
On the way to camp he asked a number of questions of Bruce. “How did the Indian look? What did he wear? Did he have a gun?”
“He was short and squatty,” Bruce told. “He wore his hair sort of half-long, not in a braid. I did not get a good look at his face, but when he looked around I thought he looked like a bad man, but I thought he also looked scared.
“I was surprised to see him jump out of the canoe. He missed the rock with his feet, but clung to it with his hands. He wore moccasins, leggings, and a hunting-shirt of buckskin.”[134]
“Did he have a gun?” Ganawa repeated somewhat eagerly.
“Yes, he had a gun,” Bruce asserted. “It was leaning in the bow of the boat, but he jumped for the rock without it, and the gun went over the falls with the canoe.”
“We must follow him,” repeated Ganawa. “If he had been a friend, he would not have run away. He was a man who had some evil in his heart. You must take Ohnemoosh, but you must tie a rope to him so he cannot run away from us and make a big noise with barking and tell the man that we are coming.”
On the way down the steep trail to the Big Pool, Ganawa pointed to some tracks and whispered, “Wet moccasins,” and when Tawny smelled at the tracks his hair bristled and he tried hard to break away from Ray.
If the lads had expected to find the Indian at the Big Pool, they were disappointed. Several pieces of the canoe were travelling round and round in the pool, and Ray caught a cedar-wood paddle, but of the[135]gun they found no trace. They followed the trail past the two miles of the rapids below the pool with the dog eagerly leading and straining at the rope, but a few rods below the rapids where the water flows along placidly, carrying patches of foam on its surface, the dog lost the trail.
Ray led him back several times and then released him so he could range as he pleased, but it was all in vain; the trail either ended suddenly or, for some reason, the dog could not follow it any farther.
The three sat down to think it over. The dog also sat down and with a puzzled whine looked at his human friends as if to say: “I don’t know what this means. Can’t you tell me?”
And then Ganawa arose and said: “My sons, I can tell you why the dog cannot follow the trail beyond this point. The man stopped here, jumped into the river and swam across. It is good that he lost his gun, for we know now that he cannot come back and harm us during the night. We[136]should not follow him across the stream. It may be that he will never come back, for he knows that his gun is lost and that his canoe was broken where the river leaps over the big steps of the rocks to the whirling pool. And now we must return to our camp, for we have not tasted food since this morning, and we are all very hungry.”[137]