The Cryptogram: A Story of Northwest Canada

by William Murray Graydon

  CHAPTER XXXIV.

  ON THE WAY.

  A visitor of any sort was the last thing we could have expected, and thereader can imagine what a surprise and scare the interruption gave us.We leaped to our feet with such haste that several of the benches woreknocked over, and Christopher Burley, who was in the act of sitting downat the time, landed on the floor with a heavy crash. But there was nooccasion for alarm--no need to rush frantically for our muskets. Theintruder was not an Indian, not an enemy. In the open doorway, framedagainst the whiteness of the storm, stood a big, bearded man clad in thewinter uniform of the Hudson Bay Company.

  And the moment I saw him I recognized an old acquaintance--a hunter whohad of late years served at Fort Charter.

  "Tom Arnold!" I cried gladly, as I hurried forward to greet him.

  "By Jupiter, if it ain't Carew!" he shouted, clasping my hand. Turninground, he called loudly: "Come in, boys, it's all right!"

  At the bidding five more men stamped noisily into the house, shaking thesnow from their clothing, and dragging a well-laden sledge behind them.

  "I left these chaps outside, not knowing who might be in the fort," Tomexplained; "but when I listened a bit I reckoned it was safe to enter. Iheard a couple of voices that sounded kind of familiar. And no mistakeeither! We're in luck to find friends and shelter at one stroke. What asnug place you've got here!"

  A scene of merriment and excitement followed, and hands were clasped allround; for the most of our party and of the new arrivals were acquaintedwith one another, even Captain Rudstone finding a friend or two.

  After a generous glass of wine, Tom Arnold lit his pipe, stretched hisfeet to the blazing logs, and volunteered explanations, which we hadbeen waiting anxiously to hear. He and his party, it seemed, had leftFort Charter on a hunting trip three days before. On the previous nightthey had chosen a poor camping-place--it afforded little shelter againstthe storm, and so, in the morning, they determined to try to reach oldFort Beaver.

  "That's my yarn," Tom concluded, "and now let's have yours, Carew. Whatare you doing in this part of the country, and with a pretty girl intow?"

  As briefly as possible I related all that had happened, from the swiftbeginning of trouble at Fort Royal to the night when we escaped by thesecret passage. Every word of it was new to Tom and his companions, andthey listened with breathless interest and dilated eyes, with hoarseexclamations of rage and grief. And when the narrative was finished agloom fell upon all of us.

  "So the country is quiet down your way?" asked Captain Rudstone.

  "Yes, as far as Fort Garry and the Red River," Tom replied. "We haddispatches within a week, and though they mentioned bad feeling and afew rows in which men were killed on both sides, there has been nogeneral outbreak. As for the trouble up north, we hadn't an inkling ofit."

  "Apparently, then," said the captain, "the attack on Fort Royal was aprivate grudge--an act of revenge instigated solely by CuthbertMackenzie, who stirred up the redskins to help him. There was motiveenough, you know, for a man of his nature."

  "It's likely as you say," Tom answered, "but at the same time I'm afraidthe Northwest Company knew what was on foot, and will declare open waras soon as they hear of the fall of Fort Royal. The Indians may havegone north to attack other forts on the bay, or possibly they will marchto Fort Charter next. We must lose no time in getting back and givingthe alarm. This is the worst of news."

  "I am sure there is no danger," I said hurriedly, noticing that. Floralooked disturbed and anxious. "The Indians must have gone toward FortYork to cut us off; if they had come this way you would have heard ofthem long ago."

  "Yes, that's right," assented Captain Rudstone. "It will be time enoughto start in the morning, when the storm will likely be over. If you setoff now, you have ten chances to one of perishing in the snow. You can'tdo better than share our cozy quarters."

  "I'll think about it," Arnold answered doubtfully. "At all events, we'llhave a jolly good feed together, and then we'll see what the weatherpromises. I ought to be back at the fort long before to-morrowmorning."

  By this time the dinner was ready. Carteret had found a packet ofcornmeal that had been overlooked before, and our visitors contributedfreely from their own ample store of food. So our spirits brightened alittle, and while we ate and drank we chatted of more pleasing thingsthan Indians and warfare. But Christopher Burley was in a sullen moodand showed a very curt manner to Captain Rudstone. Why the latter hadcut the law clerk's speech short so brusquely, and why he had beendisturbed by it, were mysteries to which I could find no solution.Indeed, I felt keenly disappointed, for I knew that Burley had been onthe point of explaining the task that had brought him out to theCanadas.

  The meal over, a surprise was in store for us. We observed that morelight shone through the frosted window panes, and Tom Arnold rose andopened the door. He gave a shout that drew most of us after him, and wewere amazed to see the change that had taken place in so short a time.Of the howling storm there was not a trace, save the fresh snowdrifts.It was still blowing a little, but no snow was falling, and through theclear air the clouds gave signs of breaking.

  "Hurray! We can start now!" cried Tom.

  "Yes, if the calm lasts," added Captain Rudstone.

  "What do you think of it?" I asked of Carteret, who was considered anauthority on the weather.

  The old voyageur sniffed the air for a moment.

  "It's hard to tell in this case, sir," he replied. "The clouds may breakand clear away for good; and then ag'in, the storm may come on as bad asever, within the hour. But it's worth risking the chance."

  Some held Carteret's opinion, and others were in favor of waiting tillmorning. But in the end the latter were won over, and we decided tostart at once. For a little while there was bustle and commotion as themen repacked the sledges, donned their furred coats and snowshoes, andlooked to the priming of their muskets.

  In less than ten minutes we were ready, and with a last lingering lookat the room which had sheltered us so well, we left the house. I sawCaptain Rudstone glance keenly at the spot where the cryptogram washidden, and he muttered something under his breath as he turned away. Wepassed across the inclosure, out at the ruined gates, and struck off inthe direction of Fort Charter. We were soon in a heavy forest, where itwas necessary to march two or three abreast. Tom Arnold, CaptainRudstone and another led the way. I was in the next file of three, witha couple of Fort Charter men for company. Flora was a little distance inthe rear, strapped to our half-empty sledge, which Baptiste and Carteretwere drawing. From time to time I glanced back for a sight of her prettyface looking out from a dainty headdress of fur.

  The storm did not recommence, though the clouds, instead of breaking,hung low and heavy over us. We marched as rapidly as possible throughthe wilderness, gliding over the drifts and dislodging miniatureavalanches of snow from the drooping limbs of the trees.

  At about three o'clock in the afternoon, when we had covered some six orseven miles, we were filing along a deep and narrow valley, over the bedof a frozen stream. The snow covered the undergrowth and rocks, making afairly good road. On both sides of us rose mighty hills, densely coveredwith timber, and seared with granite crags. Of a sudden, from a pointslightly ahead on the left, rang the dull report of a musket.

  "I'm shot!" cried Tom Arnold, clapping a hand to his arm.