CHAPTER XXIV.
ON THE PORCUPINE RIVER.
We must now pass over an interval of several weeks. During this periodour readers are to imagine the numerous rapids and perils of the UpperYukon conquered and the permanent camp of the silver fox huntersestablished upon the swift Porcupine River, not far above its junctionwith the Yukon and amidst a country wilder than any into which theBungalow Boys had yet penetrated.
The work of setting out the peculiarly constructed traps in which thesilver and black foxes were to be trapped had occupied much time, andsome exciting adventures with bears and wolves had accompanied thework. When completed, the "trap-line" extended for more thantwenty-five miles from the camp, which was pitched on the bank of theriver to which the _Yukon Rover_ was tied.
Did space permit we should like to tell in detail, and may at somefuture time, the numerous exciting episodes that marked those weeks ofour young friends' lives. But we must now hasten on to an event whichwas to try their resources as they had rarely been tested before, andwhich was peculiarly characteristic of the life in that wild region"north of fifty-three" which they were exploring.
It is first necessary to explain that the work of overseeing thetrap-line was attended to every week, the work being divided into"shifts," one of the party, or more, being left to guard the campduring the absence of the others. At the particular time we are nowdealing with Mr. Dacre was disabled with a slight fever, and Sandy,also, was a "little under the weather" from the same cause. So that itdevolved upon Tom and Jack to assume the task of going over thetrap-line, a duty which had to be performed, while Mr. Chillingworthremained behind with the invalids.
And right here it is proper to explain that although the traps hadbeen set and baited, the trappers did not expect any results tilllater in the season when the "big cold" set in. Nevertheless, in orderto guard against the possibility of vicious or unprincipled trappersor "dog Indians" interfering with them, a rigid patrol was necessaryto insure the well being of the trap-line. The actual trapping wasdestined to come later when the wastes of forest to the north werefrozen and the creatures of the wild came toward the river in searchof food.
Well used to roughing it as the boys were, they carried little morewith them on these expeditions than flour, "erbwurst,"--a sort ofconcentrated soup, not very palatable, but nourishing,--teas, salt andsugar. Their rifles, blankets and canteens completed their loads, withammunition, of course, sufficient to enable them to "live on thecountry."
The trap-line led back into a wild range of mountains known as theFrying Pan Range, though just why that name had been given to thesection is beyond the present chronicler to explain.
On the particular morning with which we are dealing, we find Tom andJack almost at the end of the trap-line. Not much to their surprise,their investigation of the fifty or more traps scattered through thisterritory had not resulted in their discovering any silver foxesensnared. Other wild creatures, though, had been entrapped, but theywere not bothering with these. In every instance, if they were notmaimed, the creatures were set loose, with one exception. That was theugly "glutton" or wolverine, a notorious robber of trappers' andminers' camps, and a savage, truculent animal. When such creatureswere found, they were despatched without mercy.
Tom, the first to open his eyes that morning, gave a glance ofastonishment as he gazed about him from his blankets. On every side ofthem was a fleecy blanket of fog as thick and blinding as that whichhad encompassed them at Kadiak. He awakened Jack and the two lookedabout them rather anxiously. In pursuit of a deer, the carcass ofwhich hung in a neighboring tree, high up so as to be beyond the reachof wild animals, the boys had, the evening before, wandered rather farfrom their beaten track.
They had, in fact, been overtaken by night in a part of the mountainswhich was entirely strange to them. But they felt no apprehensions onthat score. They, of course, carried, like all wilderness travelers, agood compass and had the accurate bearings of their camp. Thetrap-line itself was marked by a blazed trail, so that once upon ittheir course was as plainly recognized as if they had been on a publichighway.
After breakfast, consisting of deer-meat steaks, which when freshlykilled are by no means as good as asserted, flap-jacks and tea, wellsugared, the two young trappers took earnest counsel as to the bestcourse to pursue.
The fog enwrapped them closely in billowy folds of white. On themountain top on which they had halted, the mist was peculiarly denseand heavy.
"Well, Jack," said Tom, "we're in cloudland, all right. Are you infavor of waiting till the clouds roll by or striking out for camp?"
Jack at once declared for the latter course. Mr. Dacre's illness andSandy's indisposition had not a little to do with Tom's falling inwith this plan. He was anxious not to remain away longer thannecessary for, as he knew, the river fevers sometimes resulted quiteseriously.
Accordingly, the blankets were rolled up, some meat cut from the deer,canteens filled at a nearby spring, and the march back to the riverbegun. The fog still hung heavy and dense, and the boys strode alongthrough the steamy vapor talking little, but saving their wind andtheir strength for the rough stony ground they were traveling over.
About noon the mist lifted and rolled away like a drop-curtain in atheater. And it was then that the boys made a disquieting discovery.The general scenery adjacent to the trapping line was familiar tothem. But the spot which they now had reached held nothing that strucka reminiscent note.
Instead of being surrounded by noble forests of huge, somber trees,they were in a place that resembled more the scenery found in the "BadLands" than anything else the boys could call to mind. Grotesque pilesof rocky hills, pinnacled like cathedrals and minsters, with here andthere the semblance of some strangely formed animal, surrounded themon every side.
Towering columns and immense, fantastically-shaped masses of clay,suggesting pre-historic monsters of the pre-glacial period, rockycliffs resembling enchanted castles,--these were only a few of theremarkable features of the section of the country into which they hadstrayed.
They looked about them with awe. The strata of the various weirdformations were brilliantly tinted with blue, red, white, yellow andother colors mingled and mixed like the hues of a kaleidoscope. Theutter barrenness of the place suggested a city of the dead, untroddenby man or beast for centuries.
"Where under the sun have we wandered?" asked Jack in an awed tone,gazing about with wonderment not untinged with alarm.
"I've not the slightest idea. We've never even seen a suggestion ofsuch country on our hunting excursions off the trapping line. We musthave strayed far off our course."
"But the compass?"
"I followed what should have been our direction," declared Tom. "Icannot understand this at all."
"Nor can I. Let's have a look at that compass."
Tom fished it out of his pocket and extended it. He glanced at thedial and then uttered a cry of astonishment. The needle was dippingand plunging and behaving in a very odd manner.
"Gracious, what's the matter with the thing? Is it bewitched?" gaspedJack.
"It is certainly behaving in a very mysterious fashion. Something musthave deflected it and led us out of our way."
"What could have done this?"
"I don't know, unless--hullo!"
Tom stooped and picked up a bit of stone which glittered with bright,shining particles.
"Iron pyrites!" he exclaimed. "I remember the professor back at schoolshowing some to the geology class. No wonder the needle wasdeflected! Look, Jack, those cliffs yonder are almost solid masses ofpyrites!"
"And those deposits of iron switched the needle of the compass?"
"Beyond a doubt."
"Then we are lost."
"I don't like to say that."
"But we are far out of our way?"
"No question of it."
"How far?"
"I have no idea. It's a nasty predicament, Jack, but we'll get out ofit, don't worry."
"But you haven't an
y idea in which direction to go?"
"No; we must scout around and try to get our bearings. I would suggestthat we strike out for that high hill yonder that will place a ridgebetween us and the pyrites cliffs, and perhaps the compass will behavenormally."
They struck off in the direction that Tom indicated. But it was hardtraveling in that broken, uncanny country into which they hadwandered in such a strange manner. The hill, too, was further thanthey thought, the clear air being deceptive. But dripping withperspiration and not a little anxious at heart, they gained it atlast.
As Tom placed his hand in his pocket to draw out the compass, healmost let the instrument drop to the ground.
A sudden sound had broken the stillness of the place. It was a soundthat ordinarily would have caused confidence in the hearers. But heardunder the circumstances in which it was, it was so unexpected, so outof keeping with the wild surroundings, that it startled and shockedthem both.
It was the sound of laughter.
The Bungalow Boys Along the Yukon Page 24
