The Island of Yellow Sands: An Adventure and Mystery Story for Boys

by Ethel C. Brill

  XII

  OVER THE CLIFFS

  Le Forgeron Tordu, or Awishtoya, as the Indians called him, had surelybeen following the gold-seekers. Was it the smoke of his fire they hadseen when they were leaving the Rock of the Beaver? He might havewatched them start out and have noted their course, but they had seen nocanoe in pursuit. How could he have followed in darkness, wind and rain?It seemed incredible that he had been able to do so, and had come safethrough the storm to the island where they now were. Yet Nangotook wassure of the footprints, sure they had been made by the Blacksmith andhis Indian companion. Ronald suggested that perhaps the evil Frenchmanor the Cree knew how to reach the Island of Yellow Sands, knew the waybetter indeed than Nangotook knew it, and had not followed them, but hadcome direct.

  "If that be true," cried Jean. "If they know the way, and have comestraight here, it means that we are even now on the Island of YellowSands."

  "We can find out only by exploring the place," Ronald replied promptly."That is the first thing for us to be doing. We must look for the beachof gold. We can be seeking for some signs of Le Forgeron at the sametime."

  Nangotook made no objection that time, and seemed less inclined to holdback. Nevertheless, he allowed Ronald to take the lead. Going throughthe woods by a different route from the one they had followed before,they came to the level stretch of ground they had seen from the ridge.They were no longer in the forest, but were obliged to penetrate a thickand high growth of alders, high-bush cranberries, and other shrubs.Wherever the bushes left room for them to grow, the little bunchberry ordwarf cornel plants, with their clusters of red berries, covered theground. Beyond the patch of bushes, which was not more than a quarter ofa mile wide, the treasure-seekers hoped to find a sand beach, _the_ sandbeach for which they were searching.

  They pushed their way through the growth as rapidly as they could andsoon came out upon a rocky shore that descended straight to the water,bunchberries, bearberries and other plants growing to the verge. Thedisappointment was a bitter one. The lads had fully expected to find asand beach there, and their hopes of yellow sands had been high. Theywere not ready to give up even then, but followed along the shore untilthey reached the high barren rocks at the southern extremity of theisland, where they had been the day before. Not a grain of gold was tobe found.

  "No yellow sands on this island," the Ojibwa said, with a shake of hishead, as they turned back from the rocks of the southern end.

  "But you said this was the place," cried Jean with impatience. "You saidso when we first saw it from that heap of rocks where we were stranded.You said it was the island your grandfather saw."

  Nangotook did not deign to reply, but Ronald was not yet willing toabandon the search.

  "There is one stretch of shore remaining we know nothing of," he said."We must search every inch of it before we can be sure. It may be thatthe beach is only a short one, but even a hundred feet of sands of goldwould mean a fortune for us."

  So the treasure-seekers returned to the bay, crossed it in the canoe,and explored the whole northern half of the island. The north end wasquite as discouraging as the south. Everywhere the shore was of rock,rising in palisades or composed of tumbled heaps of boulders, around andamong which the water washed. In one place the explorers came to a baypartly protected by a reef, but on its pebble beach there were no goldengrains. The beach they had passed on the day of their arrival the twoboys examined thoroughly, digging up the sand here and there in the hopeof finding some bits of yellow metal, but not a trace could theydiscover. Even Ronald gave up at last, forced to admit that they had notyet reached the island they were seeking. In his disappointment he beganto doubt that the Island of Yellow Sands existed anywhere but in theIndian's imagination. He confided to Jean that he did not believeNangotook's grandfather had ever seen such a place. His discouragementwas the more complete, because, with the exception of the small rockyislets near at hand, they could get no glimpse of any other land.

  Jean, however, clung to the belief that the sought-for island might notbe far off. It was not strange that they could not get sight of it, forthe day remained thick and cloudy, fog on the water shutting off theirview, and blotting out even the rock where they had been storm-bound.

  All that day the three, especially the Indian, had kept a lookout forsome trace of their visitors of the night before, but had found no sign.The boys concluded that Le Forgeron and his companion had not merelypaddled along shore and landed at some other spot, but had left theisland entirely. Where had they gone? Though some of the outlying isletsbore a few trees and bushes, none seemed to afford a sufficient shelterfor a camp. No one would choose such an exposed spot, with a goodcamping place close at hand. The disappearance of Le Forgeron furtherconvinced Jean that there must be other land not far off.

  Nangotook was not so sure that the Frenchman had left the island. Thoughthey had found no further traces of the man, he might be concealedsomewhere. It was evident that the Ojibwa himself had reason to fear LeForgeron. Apparently he thought the Blacksmith might return to theircamp again that night and do them some injury, for he proposed that theymove to another spot not so deep in the woods, where they could keep abetter lookout for danger. The lads were more than willing, and heselected a place at the southern end of the island, on open ground, alittle distance from the woods. There, where they could not beapproached under cover of the trees, the three built another lodge.While the boys cut balsam for their beds and fire-wood for cooking,Nangotook went back to the bay, launched the canoe, and paddled itthrough the entrance and around the outer shore to the end of theisland. Then they hoisted it up the rocks and carried it to their camp,where they placed it, bottom side up, close to the wigwam.

  Supper that night was a pleasant change from the fish diet of the pastfew days. The evening before, the Indian had set some snares, usingfish-line for the nooses, and had caught a hare. To take the place ofthe missing kettle, he had made a birch-bark basket in two compartmentsbetween which the water could circulate. Having filled the basket abouthalf full of water, he placed in one compartment the meat, cut intosmall pieces, and some little tubers he had dug. Meanwhile stones hadbeen heating in the fire. When they were red hot, he lifted them, one ata time, with two sticks, and carefully immersed them in the water in theother compartment, setting it to boiling. The tubers he calledwaub-es-see-pin. They were a little like potatoes, and, stewed with thehare meat, the lads found them good.

  All night the fire was kept going, and the Indian remained awake andalert until daylight, when he roused Jean to take his place. There wereno signs that either man or beast had approached the camp.

  The weather remained raw and threatening and the lake was hazy with coldmist. After noon, Ronald, growing restless, set off to hunt and explore.Etienne had gone to look at his snares, and Jean remained in camp.Ronald followed the ridge to the bay, then made his way around to theextreme inner end, where the waters of the bay were separated from thelake by a narrow strip of land. From there he struck along the lakeshore to the place where the track Etienne had followed the morningbefore ended abruptly. The boy's mind was busy with the problem of theappearance of Le Forgeron on the island and his departure from it. Whyhad he come there and where had he disappeared to? The lad went clear tothe northern end. Gulls were everywhere, swimming in the lake, divingthrough the waves, flying overhead and resting on the rocks. The placeseemed alive with them. Ronald paused for a few moments to look out overthe water. The sun had broken through the clouds, and they were scuddingbefore a strong wind. In the distance he could discern the rock that hadsheltered his companions and himself. The clearing weather gave him hopethat they would be able to leave the island soon, and it was in betterspirits that he turned to go.

  On the way back, he climbed about on the rocks to get a view down on thepalisaded cliffs, which were not quite like anything he had seen before.In some places the columns were in two or three rows, one row risingabove another, the lower one starting at water level and running up likea fli
ght of steps. After he had passed this singular place, he noticed,as he looked down from the top of a vertical wall of rock, that thewaves, instead of breaking into foam against it, seemed to be passingunder it. "There must be a cave down there," he thought. Balancinghimself on the very edge of the cliff, he leaned forward in an attemptto see the hole where the water washed in.

  Then something struck him suddenly, heavily, on the head and shoulders,and he toppled over. The blow had taken him wholly by surprise, andthere was nothing to catch hold of. He went down into the lake. His headstruck a rock, and he knew nothing more.