by H. L. Sayler
CHAPTER XV
A LETTER GOES WRONG
The conditions that the young aviators had just encountered had notsharpened their appetites. But again in the fresh air, they decided touse speed and complete their mission and, incidentally, to have a littletea and some bannock at the airship.
At two of the cabins where they had seen the strongest women, theystopped and made signs for the squaws to follow them. At the tepee in theedge of the woods they found the two old men and the two women huddledaround a fire on the inside of the tepee, with every sign of havinggorged themselves upon the food given them. In the kettle outside, chunksof the moose were stewing under a now brisk fire. This entire party wasalso enlisted and Norman and Roy made their way back to the snow basin inthe woods. Without delay they passed out all the supplies to the Indianswho had accompanied them, showed them the remainder of the moose and madesigns that these should be distributed equally among all. With everyexpression of pleasure, but none of gratitude, the six Indians tookinstant departure.
"It's three o'clock," announced Norman, when this had been done. "Now fora little camp fire out here in the snow, some tea and a piece of bannock,and we'll make a record trip back home."
Unaware of the disastrous discovery they were soon to make the two boystook a leisurely rest.
"It's the only time I miss a pipe," remarked Roy as he sat behind a snowbank with his feet toward the cheery blaze.
"Well, if ever I begin," said Norman in turn, "I'll never try to manipulateany of this plug smokin' stuff. I'll go to the States for a mixture of somekind and not try to shave down the brick of hydraulic-pressed tobacco thatthe half-breeds use."
After a long loaf before the fire the boys made preparations to return.
"Looks a little like the blizzard day," remarked Roy, "and it's certainlygetting some colder. I hope the wind won't come up. If it does, I hope itcomes out of the north."
While he spoke, the two boys took hold of the frame of the monoplane topull it out onto the smooth snow and head it south. The airship had beenresting upon what seemed to be a little ridge. Pulling the chassis fromthis rise in the snow, they were both astounded to find the body of thecar shift to one side and sink into the snow.
Both sprang to that side of the car and Norman, running his hand alongthe wooden landing ski, gasped with astonishment when he found the longrunner broken sharply in the middle.
"That's fine!" he shouted. "This runner's out of business!"
Roy ran to the rear where the car had stopped and found underneath thesnow a rocky ledge.
"She hit this!" he exclaimed. "Can't we tie her up?"
Norman was plainly in doubt but they cleared away the surrounding snowand found that, instead of a single break, a section of the runner hadbeen shattered. Two jagged ends of wood extended into the soft snow.
"If you'll find any way to fix them," exclaimed Norman, "maybe we can geta start. But it looks to me as if we'd have to make a new runner."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Roy, beating his numbing hands together. "We canfix 'er."
The two boys made this attempt and, as often as they thought they hadpatched up the shattered ski and mounted into the car in attempts to makea start, the patched strip of wood would part and the chassis would lungeagain into the snow.
After a half hour of attempts of this kind, Roy recalled the dog sled inthe distant hut of the paralyzed Indian and, in desperation, after fouro'clock, for it was now getting desperately cold, he secured Norman'sconsent to a trip back to the Indian's cabin and the securing of at leasta part of the sled to patch up their machine.
The winter days were now growing short and when Roy hurried away into thegray woods night was fast coming on. Nor did he find an easy task beforehim. In the end it was necessary to pay the paralytic twenty-five dollarsbefore he could secure possession of the sled. As he made his way back tohis waiting companion, he had to stick to the trails that they hadpreviously made, for in the woods darkness had already come.
At the airship camp he found Norman had put in his waiting time incollecting a pile of fallen timber. It was now so cold that this served adouble purpose--they needed the warmth and it served to illuminate thevicinity.
The benumbed Roy also found tea ready and, better yet, a generous pieceof moose meat frying in the edge of the fire. These, with some brokenbannock heated in the fat of the meat, gave the boys a welcome supper.Then, piling new wood on the fire, they began again the task of repairingthe chassis. Here they were handicapped by the darkness, as they wereafraid to get the monoplane and its reservoirs of gasoline too near theblazing camp fire.
Finally they solved this difficulty by starting the engine and using oneof their adjustable light bulbs, which they hung over the side of thecar. Yet the cold had become so intense, although it was a dry Arcticcold, that the work went forward only by stages, the boys being forced tostop and warm their hands from time to time at the camp fire.
When the new moon showed through the dark border of spruce trees and thebrilliant northern stars pierced the black sky, the young aviators wereready for another trial. It was eight o'clock. This time they packed thesnow for a hundred yards in front of the chassis of the car, and then,arranging their few blankets in the cockpit and refreshing themselveswith some newly-made hot tea, exhausted and nervous, they climbed aboard.Putting on all their power and holding their runners steadily to thepacked snow, they again started the _Gitchie Manitou_.
While the runners were yet gliding over the evenly-packed snow drifts,there came an ominous jar on the side of the repaired ski and Normaninstantly threw the planes upward. It was a chance for, if the carsettled again, the new runner would probably give away. In its gatheringmomentum, the airship drifted snowward again while both boys gulped. Thenas if guiding itself, it sprang upward once more.
"It's all right!" shouted Roy, "but we had a close call. If we have tocome down again we'll never get up."
"When we land again," added Norman, his mouth dry, "it'll be in the gascamp."
In a few minutes the airship was over the Athabasca River again, whichwas now vaporless and white beneath them.
"It's cold, all right," was Roy's comment at this moment. "I thinkthere's ice on the river."
In spite of the increasing coldness, the _Gitchie Manitou_ made its waywithout trouble toward the distant camp. There was no wind and, althoughthe boys computed the temperature outside at not less than twenty belowzero, the interior of the little cockpit soon became cozy enough. Theheating appliances had been connected with the dynamo and Norman at timeseven complained of the heat. After the first hour of flight, both boysbegan looking for the flare of the gas well. When this at last came insight, the car was headed directly for it. At that time both boys agreedthat the river beneath was covered with ice from shore to shore.
"Anyway," said Norman, as the gas well came into full view, "looks as ifPaul didn't succeed in capping the gusher to-day."
To warn their friends of their arrival, the boys threw on theirsearchlight, and the arrival back of the aerodrome was unmarked, exceptby the vociferous welcome accorded by the alarmed occupants of the camp.
Another supper was awaiting the relief expedition and for some time allwere busy with the cause of the delay and the details of the condition ofthe Indian encampment. Unquestionably there would have to be anothervisit to the camp to ascertain at least the result of the huntingexpedition.
Strangely enough, before the matter of Chandler's letter was reached, thediscussion reached the work on the gas well that day. When Roy suddenlyrecalled the episode of the discovery in the paralyzed Indian's cabin hestarted to produce the letter, but hesitated because both Ewen and Millerwere present. In his discussion with Norman on the way back, it had beendecided that the letter had probably been written by one or the other ofthese men and that its appearance might cause embarrassment. Both Ewenand Miller had been very curious about the settlement at Pointe auxTremble, but they had asked no questions that connected Chandler with theplace.
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br /> When the hour grew late and Colonel Howell proposed retiring to the bunkroom where the iron stove was red hot, since neither Ewen nor Miller gavesigns of turning in, Roy put off the matter of the letter until later.When the three boys sought their bunks, Ewen and Miller still lingered inthe big room, and Colonel Howell was asleep.
"Time enough in the morning," suggested Norman.
In the morning, however, Colonel Howell and Paul with Ewen and Millerwere up and at work before Norman and Roy were astir. The weather had notmoderated but Colonel Howell was anxious to bring the work on the gusherto a close. Ewen and Miller attacked the frost hardened ground beforebreakfast and this work had now reached the point where Paul could helpin removing the heavy clods.
When the young aviators joined their friends at breakfast, Ewen andMiller were present again and the letter was not exhibited. Then allhurried out to complete the work of attempting to control the gusher. Theregulator and the ordinary apparatus to connect it with the mouth of thepipe, together with the smaller tubes and their valves that were to beattached above the regulator, were all in place. In the end, ColonelHowell proposed, with still smaller pipes, to lead part of the gas intothe fireplace and the bunk house stove.
At eleven o'clock the perspiring men in the trench announced this part ofthe work completed. Then it required only a few minutes to brace a narrowplatform about five feet above the bottom of the trench, next to thetube, and all paused for a short rest before making the final experiment.At last the men took their places near the roaring gusher and, at Paul'srequest, he was given the opportunity to use his well-muscled arms inswinging the sledge, Colonel Howell taking his place on the platform incharge of a long-handled chisel.
The duties of Norman and Roy were to assist the two workmen inmanipulating the chain pulley, by which the first tap was to be forced onthe open end of the pipe. This of course was pierced with holes, so thatthe pressure beneath it might not be altogether shut off. This was to beforced down upon the steel drill tube, after which the regulator was tobe similarly attached to the threads of the preliminary cap. Thesituation was hazardous for all. There was danger that the out-rushinggas in the trench below might explode when it rose and came in contactwith the roaring blaze above. But it was hoped that the work might bedone so quickly that this would not result.
When Ewen had laid out his apparatus about the mouth of the tube with allthe care of a surgeon preparing for a hasty operation, and Paul andColonel Howell had taken their position on the scaffold far below, Ewensuddenly shouted:
"Ready!"
A heavy blow resounded in the narrow pit. Then another, and another, anda new roar broke out below. Dropping their tools, Colonel Howell and Paulfled up their improvised ladder and when they reached the surface theysaw the workmen and Norman and Roy, their faces distorted with effort andtheir clothes almost scorching, bend to the task before them. Theescaping gas was still roaring and the flames were leaping sideways.
Norman and Roy were almost flat on the ground, hanging on to the pulleychain. The first cap was in place and, with a long wrench, Ewen wastwisting it onto the thread. A new volume of gas was already rolling fromthe pit, while from the incline opposite the mouth of the new opening,gravel and clods of earth were shooting riverward like the sparks of aBessemer furnace. Paul threw himself on the ground with the other boysand added his strength to theirs in holding the cap in place. All seemedto forget the possibility of a new explosion.
There was a hoarse shout from Ewen and the boys released the pulley chainwhile Miller slapped the regulator between the guide rods. As the threeyoung men again threw themselves upon the chain and forced the regulatorinto place, the crucial moment had arrived. The controlling valve of theregulator was open, of course, and as the rushing gas was againconcentrated into one stream, a new fiery jet shot upward. But thelateral streams had been controlled and again Ewen applied the wrench tothread the regulator to the first cap. Once he failed and then thethreads caught. With a yell of victory the veteran gas man threw himselfagainst the long wrench again.
"You've got 'er!" exclaimed Colonel Howell as he sprang to Ewen's sideand joined him in screwing the regulator into place. Even before he spokethere was a renewed roar in the trench beneath and a new volume of gaspoured upward.
"Fill 'er in!" shouted Paul. "The big rocks first." And then, while thenewly confined gas still shot upward through the regulator in a screamingstream of fire, six pairs of hands, including those of the energeticPhilip, hurled a collected heap of rocks to the bottom of the trench andaround the new opening.
"This ain't goin' to stop the flow," explained Colonel Howell to Normanand Roy, as all panted in their work, "but it's Paul's idea, and I thinkhe's put it over."
"Now for the dirt!" shouted Paul, who was leading in the work. Withshovels and pieces of board, the excavated material was rapidly dumpedinto the trench. With each new shovelful of material, the escape of gasfrom the trench became less and the roar from the open regulator becamemore deafening. When at last only an odor of gas escaped from the newlypacked trench, Paul exclaimed:
"Plenty of water dumped in here ought to make a solid cake of ice aroundthe opening and that ought to fix us till spring anyway."
"The cleverest idea you've yet given us!" exclaimed Colonel Howell, asall paused for breath. "Now, go over and finish your job. Turn off theregulator."
Proudly enough, Paul sprang to the roaring gusher and gave the protectedvalve wheel a few quick turns. Instantly the flow was shut off andsilence followed. The young Austrian had made good.
Many other mechanical details had to be seen to but the great problem hadbeen solved and all were elated. The main work accomplished, ColonelHowell and the young men retired to the cabin, where, as soon as theexcitement over Paul's victory had somewhat subsided, Roy produced theletter he had found in the cabin of the paralyzed Indian. Colonel Howell,having heard the explanation of the finding of the letter, without anyhesitation and evidently without any qualms of conscience, drew out theenclosure. The letter was an illiterate scrawl.
"Mr. Chandler," it began, "we have decided our answer is this. Mebbe youare right and we three have done all the work here, but Colonel Howellhas always been on the square. If you think you are intitled to go toEdmonton and make a claim for this property, we don't. It's been a pertyhard job, but we been paid for it and don't think we have no claim fur atitle to this claim. Besides, this ain't no time to try to go to Edmontonand get out papers. If we was goin, we'd wait till the river froze andtake a dogsled. When you get your money you can go if you like. Like wepromised you, we wont say nothin. So long as Colonel Howell treats ussquare we're goin to stick. So no more at present.
Ewen and Miller."
The message was dated August 10th and was evidently a reply to someproposition made by Chandler after he was kicked out of the camp. WhileColonel Howell read it, his face was very sober. Then he read it aloud tothe boys and tossed it on the table while he lit a new cigar. All sat insilence for some time and then Norman said:
"I guess Chandler must have changed his mind too. He was here yesterdaymorning."
"But the river's frozen now," suggested Roy quickly. "What does thismean, Colonel Howell?" went on Roy, his curiosity overcoming him.
The colonel took a long draw on his cigar and at last found his old-timesmile.
