by H. L. Sayler
CHAPTER XIII
IN THE LAND OF CARIBOU, MOOSE AND MUSK OX
Within another hour, the first storm of the season had turned into ablizzard. With the provisions they had on hand the boys would have made alanding to get what protection they might from the blinding snow and thenow-piercing wind had they dared. They had not yet changed the landingwheels of the monoplane for their novel snow runners and they realizedthat a new start in the rapidly increasing snow was practically hopeless.
Working directly ahead into the gale had so reduced their speed thatNorman had adopted a series of long tacks. He did this in spite of thefact that for miles at a time it took him from the river valley, which hewas now locating mainly by the wind eddies he had learned to know. Therewas no use turning on the searchlight, as it merely gave them a littlelonger view into the deep gray emptiness before them.
Thoroughly appreciating their danger, the boys also recognized that apanic of fear would not help them. If the car should become unmanageable,they would make the best landing they could and, half burying themonoplane in the snow, would await in the protected cockpit the breakingof the blizzard and a new day.
"Anyway," announced Roy at one time, "while I ain't exactly stuck onbeing here and it ain't as cheerful as I thought it would be, you got tosay this, the _Gitchie Manitou_ ain't falling down any."
No attention was given to supper and it did not get so cold but that theheavy clothing and enclosed cockpit--for they had long since been forcedto put up all the sections--were ample protection for the young men.Seven o'clock, by which time they had expected to be in camp, came, asdid eight and nine. It was now long after dark and, while the storm hadabated somewhat, there was still a heavy wind and plenty of snow.
For hours the boys had been simply following the compass. They had notcaught the roar of the Grand Rapids and felt themselves practically lost.By their calculation, and allowing for a head wind, they had concludedthat they would have covered the three hundred miles by ten o'clock. Ifat that time they could make out no signal light, they had decided tocome down on the upland and go into camp for the night.
Their calculation was purely a guess but it was not a bad one. Some timeafter half past nine both boys made out in the far eastern sky a softglow.
"I thought it had to be a clear night for the Aurora Borealis," suggestedRoy, conscious that his companion had also seen the same glow. For a timeNorman made no response but he headed the machine directly toward thepeculiar flare and ceased his tacking.
"That's no Aurora," he said at last. "I think the woods are on fire."
For ten minutes, through the thinning wind-tossed snowflakes, the_Gitchie Manitou_ groaned its way forward.
"I wonder if it ain't a big signal fire for us," suggested Roy at last.
"It's a big blaze of some kind," answered Norman.
Through the obscuring snow, the nervous aviators had located the lightmany miles in the distance. Now it began to rise up so suddenly beforethem that they knew it had not been very far away. Yet they could notmake up their mind that it was a signal fire. It did not at all resemblea blaze of that kind.
"Well, don't run into it, whatever it is," shouted Roy a few minuteslater as a tall spire-like shaft of yellow light seemed almost to blocktheir progress.
But Norman was already banking the machine, and the flying car respondedwhile the wonder-struck boys gazed open-mouthed.
"It's the camp," Norman yelled just then as a little group of shadowybuildings seemed to rise up out of the snow.
"They've struck gas!" blurted Roy, as he sprang to his feet. "The menhave struck gas and it's a gusher!"
Even as he yelled these words, the aviators heard a quick fusilade ofshots and as the car darted onward were just able to catch sight ofshadowy forms running about within the glare of the burning gas well. Thesight was enough of a shock to Norman to throw him off his guard and thesnow-weighted car careened wildly toward the earth. Roy attempted tospring to his companion's assistance and realized almost too late thatthis would be fatal. While the perspiration sprang to Roy's chilled face,Norman's presence of mind returned and he threw the car upward and intoequilibrium again.
Then, straining every nerve, he made a wide detour but while his brainacted, the muscles of his hands and arms seemed suddenly paralyzed. Thecar dropped slowly and safely in the midst of the clearing, and when ittouched the snow the landing chassis caught and the airship stopped as ifin collision with a wall. Both boys lunged forward and when Roy got tohis feet he found Norman curled up among the steering apparatus, cold andmotionless.
It was a good half hour later when the young aviator had been revived.His first inquiry was about the _Gitchie Manitou_. When he learned thatthis was apparently little injured and had already been backed into theaerodrome, he gave more evidence of his all-day's strain by againrelapsing into unconsciousness on the cot that had been improvised forhim before the fire in the living room.
The more fortunate Roy was able to relate their adventures and hear thedetails of the gas gusher's discovery that night. Within the protectedclearing, the storm had been more of a heavy downfall of snow and less ofa blizzard. Anxious to move the derrick before winter was fully uponthem, Colonel Howell and his two men had persisted in working the drillall day. When the gas vein was unexpectedly tapped late in the afternoon,the drill pipes had been blown out and the escaping gas, igniting fromthe near-by boiler, had consumed the derrick. Fortunately, the tubing anddrills had been forced through the derrick and were saved.
The engine house had also caught fire, but this had been pulled down andit was thought that the engine and boiler were undamaged. These detailswere discussed while Roy ate a late supper and drank with more relishthan ever before his tin of black tea. Norman was so improved by morningthat he was early astir, eager for a view of the still roaring volume ofgas. He found that Colonel Howell had also taken advantage of the firstdaylight to inventory the possible damage.
While the twisting yellow flame of the uncapped well was less inspiringas day broke, the roar of the escaping flame fascinated the youngaviator.
"It's a gusher, and a dandy," explained Colonel Howell as he and Normanstood close by it in the melting snow. "But I think we're prepared for itand we'll try to cap it to-day."
All else, the clearing, the camp structures and the banks of the river,were peaceful and white under the untracked mantle of new-fallen snow.The wind had died out and the gas camp at Fort McMurray stood on theverge of the almost Arctic winter.
The excitement attendant upon the wonderful discovery and the attemptmade at once to control the fiery shaft again interfered with ColonelHowell's real plans of active prospecting. For days the experienced oilmen made futile efforts to extinguish the gusher and to cap the shaft.When they were of no assistance in this work, Norman and Roy overhauledthe airship and substituted the ski-like runners in place of thealuminum-cased rubber-tired landing wheels.
It seemed as if every trader, trapper and prospector within fifty milesvisited the camp. A week after the discovery, somewhat to the surprise ofall, although apparently not so much to Ewen and Miller, the long missingChandler appeared at the clearing late one evening. If he had any apologyto make to Colonel Howell, the boys did not hear it. But he was soberenough this time and somewhat emaciated. He had come to settle with hisold employer and explained his long delay in doing this by saying: "Iknew my money was good any time," and that he had been trapping fartherdown the river.
He lounged about the camp the greater part of the day and evenvolunteered his services in the still unsuccessful attack of the flaminggas. But Colonel Howell seemed without any interest in his offers. Theman was invited, however, to eat in the camp and spend the night there.
When the boys retired, Colonel Howell, the visitor, and Ewen and Millerwere still smoking before the big fire. The next morning the boys sleptlate and when they responded to Philip's persistent call to breakfast,they found that Chandler had eaten and gone. Colonel Howell was awaitingthe boys,
Ewen and Miller being already at work on the blazing well, andhe seemed to have something on his mind.
"Would there be any great danger," he began at once, addressing Norman,"in making a short flight in your airship in weather like this?"
"This isn't bad," volunteered Roy. "It's only a few degrees below zero.There's a good fall of snow for our runners and there hasn't been anywind since the blizzard."
"Well," resumed Colonel Howell, almost meditatively, "it seems a shamefor us to be livin' here in what you might call luxury and folks starvingall around us. Look at this," he went on, and he led the three boys nearone of the windows where a large Department of the Interior map ofnorthern Alberta was tacked to the wall. "Here's Fort McMurray and ourcamp," he began, pointing to a black spot on the almost uncharted white,where the McMurray River emptied into the Athabasca. Then he ran hisfinger northward along the wide blue line indicating the tortuous courseof the Athabasca past Fort McKay and the Indian settlement described asPierre au Calumet (marked "abandoned"), past the Muskeg, the Firebag andthe Moose Rivers where they found their way into the giant Athabascabetween innumerable black spots designated as "tar" islands, and at laststopped suddenly at the words "Pointe aux Tremble."
"That's an Indian town," went on Colonel Howell, "and it's about as farsouth as you ever find the Chipewyans. It isn't much over a hundred milesfrom here and Chandler says there ain't a man left in the village. Prettysoon, he thinks, there'll be no women and children left. Maybe he'smaking a pretty black picture but he says all the men have gone overtoward the lake hunting. They've been gone over two weeks and the campwas starving when they left."
The colonel, with a peculiar look on his face, led the way back to thebreakfast table.
"These Indians are nothing to me," he went on at last, "and all Indiansare starving pretty much all the time, but they die just the same. Butsomehow, with plenty of pork and flour here and this great invention hereright at hand from which nobody's benefitting, it seems to me we must bepretty hard-hearted to sit in comfort, stuffing ourselves, while littlebabies are dying for scraps that we're throwing in the river. I----"
"Colonel," exclaimed Roy at once, "you've said enough. Get up what youcan spare and we'll have bannocks baking in that settlement before noon."
"I don't want to get you into another blizzard," began the colonel, yethis satisfaction was apparent.
"Don't you worry about that," broke in Norman. "I think we feel a gooddeal the same way about this. Besides, aren't we working for you?"
"Nothing like that!" expostulated the oil prospector. "This isn't anorder."
"I'll help get the stuff ready," began Paul, "for I know that's all I cando. Is this Chandler trapping near there?" he went on, as he gulped downthe last of his tea.
"Says he's been helping them," explained Colonel Howell, "but he couldn'thave done much, judging by his appearance."
"Is he going back there?" asked Roy curiously.
"He didn't say," answered Colonel Howell slowly. "But he's got his moneynow and I imagine he won't go much farther than Fort McMurray. I don'tcare for him and I don't like him around the camp. He's too busy talkingwhen the men ought to be at work."
It was an ideal winter's day, the atmosphere clear and the temperaturejust below zero. There was no cause for delay and while Norman made atracing and a scale of the route, Paul and Roy drew the _Gitchie Manitou_into the open. Colonel Howell and the half-breed cook had been busy inthe storehouse, arranging packets of flour and cutting up sides of fatpork. Small packages of tea were also prepared, together with sugar, saltand half a case of evaporated fruit. The only bread on hand was theremainder of Philip's last baking of bannock.
"See how things are," suggested Colonel Howell, when these articles werepassed up to Roy, "and if they're as bad as Chandler says, we'll have tosend Philip out for a moose. These things'll carry 'em along for a fewdays at least."
The look on the young Count's face was such that Norman was disturbed.
"Paul, old man," he said, "I know you'd like to go with us and we'd liketo have you. But we've got more than the weight of a third man in allthis food. I hope you don't feel disappointed."
"Well, I do, in a way," answered Paul, with a feeble attempt at a smile,"but it isn't just from curiosity. I envy you fellows. You're alwayshelping and I never find anything to do."
"You can help me to-day," laughed Colonel Howell. "I'm going to cap thatgas well or bust it open in a new place. I'll give you a job that maymake both of us sit up and take notice."
"Come on," exclaimed Paul, seeming instantly to forget the mission of themachine. "I've been wanting a finger in that pie from the start."
"Good luck to you," called out Norman, as he sprang aboard the monoplane,and the colonel caught Paul laughingly by the arm and held him whileNorman threw the big propeller into sizzling revolution.
The powerful car slid forward for the first time on its wooden snowshoes.As it caught the impulse of the great propeller, it sprang into the airand then dropped to the snow again with the wiggling motion of aninexperienced skater. Then, suddenly responding again to the propeller,it darted diagonally toward a menacing tree stump; but Norman was tooquick for it. Before harm could result, the planes lifted and theairship, again in its native element, hurled itself skyward steadily andtrue.
It was an exhilarating flight. For the first time the boys got abird's-eye view of Fort McMurray and were surprised to find that the mainsettlement drifted down to the river in a long-drawn-out group of cabins.Few people were in sight, however, and all the world spread out beneaththem as if frozen into silence. The big river continued its coursebetween the same high hills and, as the last cabin disappeared, the boysheaded the _Gitchie Manitou_ directly for the top of the hills, where theplains began that led onward and onward until the sparse forests finallydisappeared in the broken land of the Barren Grounds. And on these, notmuch farther to the North, they knew that caribou and moose roamed inherds of thousands, and that the musk ox, the king of the Northland biggame, made his Arctic home.
