by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XXV THE WILD STAMPEDE
At no time in Curlie Carson's adventurous life had he experienced suchstrangely mingled emotions as he did while riding astride the whitereindeer in the midst of the wild stampede. A sea of tossing antlers wasall about him. Behind him was the red glare of a mountain of flame. Whatthe next moment would bring forth he could not even guess. Now the massof struggling life was crowded into a narrow runway between banks of ariver and now they spread out over an open flat. Now his legs werepinched and bruised by antlers pressed against them, and now he rodealmost alone. But always his white steed plunged on into the night madelight as day by the great conflagration.
"Our hope is in the open tundra, open, treeless tundra," he told himselfover and over.
The great horde of creatures, seeming to know this by instinct, headedstraight for it. Now he could see the tundra's broad, white expansegleaming before them. Would they make it? The fire was gaining upon them.He felt the hot breath of flame upon his cheek. The crowding from behindbecame all but unbearable. Beside him, mouth open, panting, raced amonstrous caribou. Before him crashed a spotted reindeer.
Would they make it? Now they were a half mile from safety, now a quarter.The smell of burning hair came stiflingly from the rear.
And now the foremost of the pack reached the open tundra. Then, like aswollen stream which has suddenly broken through its barriers, theyspread out, racing still, over the silent glistening expanse of whiteprairie-like tundra. "A few of the weaker ones have perished. The greatmass of this wild life is saved," was Curlie's mental comment.
A mile from the flames Curlie dropped stiffly from his place on thereindeer's back and, patting his head in grateful appreciation, tied himwith a loose rope to a willow bush.
"There," he murmured, "feed up a bit."
The reindeer began digging in the snow for moss, while Curlie climbed anear-by knoll to have a look at the strange spectacle.
As each wild creature pursued his own course, Curlie looked on withinterest. The wolves were the first to slink away. The bear, a hugebarren-ground grizzly, climbed a distant hill, there to suck his sorepaws and nurse his grievances.
The caribou began passing to right and left like some army ordered todeploy and, in an astonishingly brief space of time, had all disappeared.
Only the reindeer, five hundred to a thousand in number, remained to feedpeacefully upon the moss of the tundra.
"Well," Curlie said to himself, "it seems I've come into possession of areindeer herd! Don't see's they have any masters. No men in sight."
Just then a dog barked. It was answered by a second one.
"Dogs!" he exclaimed. "Two of them. That's interesting. Wonder whatkind."
Putting two fingers to his lips, he sent out a shrill whistle. A momentlater two beautiful collies came racing up to him.
"Collies!" he cried in great joy, "reindeer collies. Why, here I am allset up in business, with a herd of reindeer and collies to help herdthem."
He sat down to think. This was undoubtedly the herd which had been heldby the Indians. Had the fire caught them unawares and had they beenburned alive? Or had they set the fire in the hope of concealing theirtheft of the reindeer?
"If they're still alive and did not set the fire," he told himself,"they'll be along after the fire dies down and there'll be more trouble.On the other hand, if I could take some of these deer out upon the icefloe to meet Joe and the explorers, it would be a great boon to them.Plenty of meat, the right kind too. It might save their lives.
"But there's the outlaw!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Got to settle himfirst. He can't--why he can't be more than eight or ten miles from thefood depot on Flaxman Island. A brisk morning's walk, that's all."
After careful deliberation he decided to mount his reindeer and ridedirectly for the shore of the island. The island would be solidlyconnected to the shore by the ocean ice. He would search out the depotand ride boldly up to it.
"Surely," he told himself, "no man who plots mischief is going to beafraid of an unarmed boy riding a reindeer. Hope I can catch him unawaresand steal a march on him."
Having put his plan into action, his faithful reindeer and he soon wentracing away over the tundra. Coming to the shore of the island, in orderto reach the north shore where the food depot was placed he beganskirting it.
The ice was everywhere smooth as a floor and covered with just enoughsnow to give the reindeer good footing.
"Would be a regular lark if it wasn't so dangerous. This marching rightup to a man you have followed for thousands of miles is not what it'scracked up to be."
A high cut-bank hid the food depot, a long, low building, from his sightuntil he was all but upon it.
As he rounded the point of the cut-bank he saw a man, whose back wasturned to him, disappear around the northwest corner of the building.
"Did he see me?" he breathed. "I'll play he didn't."
Hastily wheeling his reindeer about, he retreated to the shelter of thecut-bank.
Here after a moment's thought he tied the reindeer to an out-croppingwillow root, then, on hands and knees, crept back to the corner.
Peeping around the point, he stood at strained attention. He saw no one,heard no one. "And yet he might be spying at me," he whispered. "Got torisk it, though."
At that he leaped to his feet and dashed full speed toward the cabin. Thedistance was two hundred yards. His heart beat madly. Would he be shotdown before he reached that shelter?
Now he had covered half the distance, now two-thirds, now three-quarters.That his footsteps might not be heard, he was now running on tiptoes.With his breath coming in short gasps, he leaped to a corner of thecabin, threw himself upon the snow close to the wall and was for themoment safe.
"So much, so good," he breathed. "Now if only he doesn't see me first."
