CHAPTER XXX.
A STRANGE DISCOVERY.
"All ready?" exclaimed Menzies. "Then forward. If no mishap occurs weshall be miles away before our escape is discovered."
He entered the passage first, flashing the lantern in front of him, andthe others followed in double file. Captain Rudstone and I, who camelast, took the precaution to replace the slab of stone as we had foundit.
It was a strange experience to thread that underground corridor, builtwith herculean toil, when the fort was reared, for just such anemergency as it was serving now. We had to stoop low to avoid theraftered roof. The air was close, and not a sound reached us fromoutside. We groped along in semi-darkness for the lantern cast no lightbehind. It gave one a ghastly oppressive feeling of being buried alive.
The tunnel seemed longer than it really was. We were certain over andover again that we had passed under the fort yard and the outerclearing, yet still we went on. But at last Menzies stopped, and calledin a low voice that he had come to the end. Captain Rudstone and I madeour way up to him, and saw that further progress was barred by a slab ofrock that fitted exactly across the passage.
"It will yield with a hard push," said Menzies.
"Wait!" said I. "Let us first blow out the lantern."
This was done, and the three of us put our weight to the stone. Itgrated like rusty iron, gave way slowly, and went down with a crunchingnoise. Ah, the happiness of that moment--the joy of that first glimpseand breath of the air of freedom! It was all we could do to keep fromshouting and cheering.
The tunnel had brought us out on a narrow ledge midway down the steepand wooded bluff that rose from the edge of the river. A canopy of treessheltered us overhead, and below us, through the evergreen foliage, thefrozen, snow-crusted river gleamed against the murky background of thenight.
A short time before we had stared death in the face; now the hope oflife and safety thrilled our hearts with gratitude for a merciful andwonderful Providence. All the circumstances seemed in our favor.
Off behind us the Indians were still holding mad revelry in the fortyard, little dreaming, as they screeched and bowled, of the trick thathad been played upon them. Not a sound could be heard close by; therewas reason to believe that all the savages were gathered inside of theinclosure. And the snow was falling so fast and thickly that it mustcover our tracks almost as soon as made.
To put some miles between ourselves and our bloodthirsty foes was ourfirst thought, and we did not lose an instant by delay. Creeping down tothe foot of the bluff, we strapped our snowshoes to our feet, and fixedthe four wounded men comfortably on the two empty sledges. As we startedoff--twenty-one of us in all--the factor's house seemed to be wrapped inflames, to judge from the increasing glare that shone around us. Wetraveled rapidly to the south, up the river's course, and closelyskirted the timbered shore nearest the fort. Gradually the whooping ofthe Indians died away, and the reflection of the fire faded, until itwas only a flickering glow on the dark and wintry horizon. In theexcitement of leaving the fort we had given no thought to our futureplans; but now, as we hurried along the frozen bed of the river, wediscussed that all-important matter. It had been commonly understood ina vague way that we should strike direct for Fort York. However, onreflection, we abandoned that plan. If the Indians should discover ourescape, as was only too likely, they would suspect that Fort York wasour destination, and make a quick march to cut us off.
"We must look after the interests of the company as well as our ownlives," said Menzies, "and I think I see a clear way to do both. Therising of the redskins and the Northwest people may be checked by promptaction; it is probably not yet known beyond Fort Royal, nor have therebeen attacks elsewhere. So I suggest that we split into two parties. Iwill command one, take the wounded with me, and push on to Fort Elk,which is about eighty miles to the southeast. You will command theother, Denzil, and strike for Fort Charter. It lies rather more than ahundred milts to the south, and your shortest route will be by way ofold Fort Beaver. If we both succeed--and the chances are in ourfavor--two forts will be put on the alert, and couriers can be sent toother posts."
This plan commended itself to us all, and was ultimately decided upon.There was little danger of pursuit, or of meeting hostile Indians in thedirections we proposed to go. We made a brief halt at a small islandabout five miles from Fort Royal, and separated our party into two.Menzies, having the shorter journey, insisted on taking less men, and Ireluctantly yielded.
Including himself and wife, and the four wounded, his party numberedeleven. I had eight men in mine, as follows: Captain Rudstone,Christopher Burley, an Indian employee named Pemecan, two voyageurs,Baptiste and Carteret, and three old servants of the company, by nameDuncan Forbes, Malcolm Cameron, and Luke Hutter. Flora, of course, wentwith me, and she had made me radiantly happy by a promise to become mywife at Fort Charter, if the ceremony could be arranged there. One ofthe sledges, with a quantity of supplies, was turned over to us.
It was a solemn parting, at the hour of midnight, by that little islandon the frozen river. The women embraced and shed tears; the men claspedhands and hoarsely wished each other a safe journey. Then Menzies andhis companions vanished in the forest on the right bank of the river,and through the driving snow I led my band of followers to the south.Flora was beside me, and I felt ready to surmount any peril for hersake.
It was well toward noon of the next day, and snow was still falling,when we ventured to halt in a desolate region near the headwaters of theChurchill. We rested a few hours, and then pushed on until night,camping in a deep forest and not daring to light a fire. Of what befellus after that I shall speak briefly. The weather cleared and grewcolder, and for two days we marched to the south. We made rapidprogress--Flora rode part of the time on the sledge--and saw no sign ofIndians, or, indeed, of any human beings. We all wore heavy winterclothing, so suffered no hardships on that score; and the second nightwe built huge camp fires in a rocky gorge among the hills. But our stockof provisions was running short, and this fact caused us someuneasiness.
As the sun was setting that second day--it was the third day's journeyin all--we glided from the depths of the virgin forest and saw what hadbeen Fort Beaver on the further side of a shallow clearing. I had beenthinking with strange emotions of the past since morning--since we beganto draw near the neighborhood--and at sight of my old home, close towhich both my father and mother were buried, my eyes grew dim and achoking lump rose in my throat.
"I have never been this way before," remarked Captain Rudstone, "but Iknow the place by repute. It was of importance in its day; now it is amass of crumbling ruins."
"Is this really where you were born, Denzil?" Flora asked me.
"Yes," I replied; "here I spent my early years and happy ones theywere."
"Ah, this is interesting," Christopher Burley said, thoughtfully. "Andhere your father, Bertrand Carew, lived from the time he left Englanduntil his death?"
"Until a treacherous Indian killed him, sir," I said. "And the murdererwas never discovered. It is too late to go any further, men," I added,wishing to turn the subject. "We will put up here for the night, andenjoy resting between walls and beside a fireplace."
We crossed the clearing, and entered the stockade by the open gateway,which was half filled in with drifted snow. We went on, past crumblingoutbuildings, to what had been the factor's residence. The house was ina fairly good state of preservation, and a push sent the door back onits hinges.
We were on the threshold of the main room, where I so well recalled myfather sitting musingly by the great fireplace evening after eveningsmoking his pipe. Now the apartment was dreary and bare. Snow hadfiltered in at the windows, and the floor was rotting away. There wereashes in the fireplace, and near by lay a heap of dry wood--signs thatsome voyageur or trapper had spent a night here while journeying throughthe wilderness.
"This is like civilization again," said Christopher Burley, with a sigh.
"We are sure of a comfortable night, at all events," replied CaptainRudstone.
"The first thing will be supper," said I. "Baptiste, you and Carteretunpack the sledge. And do you build us a roaring fire, Pemecan."
I went into another room for a moment--it had been my own in timespast--and when I returned the Indian had already started a cheerfulblaze. As I walked toward the fireplace, intending to warm my hands, aloose slab of stone that was set in at the right of it was dislodged bythe shaking of the floor. It toppled over with a crash, breaking intoseveral fragments, and behind it, on the weatherworn stratum of plaster,I saw a number of hieroglyphics. On pulling down some more plaster Ifound more lines of them, and they were doubtless an inscription of somesort. The odd-looking characters were carved deeply into the wall, and Ijudged that they had been made years before.
"How strange!" cried Flora, coming to my side.
The rest also drew near, scrutinizing the mysterious discovery witheager eyes and exclamations of surprise.
"It looks like a cryptogram," said Captain Rudstone, and his voiceseemed to tremble and grow hoarse as he spoke. "What do you make of it,Carew?"
"Nothing," said I. "You know as much as myself--I never saw it before."
"Was it put there in your father's time?"
"Perhaps," I answered, "but I am inclined to think that it belongs to amuch earlier date."
The captain shook his head slowly. He stared at the hieroglyphics with athoughtful face, with his brow knitted into tiny wrinkles over hishalf-closed eyes.
The Cryptogram: A Story of Northwest Canada Page 30
