The cabin plane they were to use was standing on the field, the motor turning over rhythmically, the propeller whirring. Stubby helped them into the plane and when Brent had taken his seat up in the nose of the ship beside the pilot they were off.
In Canada they landed and went immediately to a hotel where they were to spend the night. Brent had thought it best to wait until the following morning before driving to the little village from where they would go to Bouchard’s cottage. He was a little dubious as to the outcome of their trip. He hoped fervently, as did the others, that Gale would recognize them but he had his doubts.
The next morning they breakfasted early and entered the car in which they were to drive to the little French-Canadian village. The driver of the car was the same one who had driven Brent on his previous trip. Though he was not fond of the man or his companionship Brent had hired him because he already knew the way.
It was nearly lunch time when they entered the little village. Without a stop they came upon the road that led away to the north and followed it to its end. Then, leaving the driver with the car, they set out on foot.
The Howards were silent, thoughtful, and Phyllis, walking beside Brent, felt her heart begin to beat with excitement. They had come so many miles, suppose now they discovered that Brent had been mistaken in his identity? She rebuked herself sharply. How could he have been mistaken? He had heard the Frenchman’s story. But if only Gale would recognize one of them! Phyllis thought she must. She looked up at Brent. He was looking away, ahead of them, his eyes fastened on the little crest of ground beyond which lay the Bouchard cottage. Phyllis thought he looked older, worried. She knew he had suffered even more than she and Gale’s other friends had because, in a way, he blamed himself for the crash and Gale’s disappearance.
Brent held up his hand and they halted for a brief rest.
“You can see the smoke from the cottage,” he said, motioning ahead with his hand to where a thin stream rose into the sky.
The others did not reply, merely glanced at one another and moved forward again.
CHAPTER XV
Lost
Gale, when Brent had left the cottage, took Toto and went to her room. There she put the dog on the floor and flung herself down on the bed. Propping her chin in cupped hands she could see out the window to the snowy fields in the distance and the blue, cloudless sky. But her eyes were fixed on something outside her vision. She did not watch Brent’s figure as he trudged away out of sight. Rather, she was again trying to bring to the fore some knowledge, the memory that lay dormant, of who she was.
Antoinette entered softly and gazed compassionately down at Gale. She sat down beside her and put a friendly arm across the other’s shoulders.
“Do not worry, Gale,” she murmured.
Gale smiled a trifle. “I’ll try not to,” she whispered. “But suppose he does know who I am? I—I should have gone with him!” Her eyes were dark with shadows, her lips trembled.
Antoinette hugged her affectionately. “I am glad you did not. It would be lonesome here without you. And if you did not like him—”
“Oh, but I did,” Gale said hastily. “He seemed nice but—it was just—I didn’t know where he was going to take me.”
“I understand,” Antoinette nodded. “Now you must rest. Come, Toto!”
The French girl rose and went to the door. The dog obediently trotted after her. Gale lay back and closed her eyes, but she could not sleep. Vividly she remembered the young man who had wanted her to go away with him. If only she could recall him from the past! If only his face and name would mean something to her! Warm tears slipped down her cheeks before she sat up and in annoyance brushed them away.
Gale got up and donned her coat. With a word to Antoinette she went outside, her customary bodyguard, Toto, at her heels. She tramped into the woods and kept on walking. She knew if she would tire herself out she would be able to sleep tonight and not keep tantalizing herself with questions she could not answer.
She walked along breathing deeply of the cold, crisp air, Toto scampering ahead of her or lingering behind to dig out a half buried root and shake it vigorously in his firm white teeth. The sun moved slowly to the western horizon. Its rays became less and less warm, the sky began to be overcast with night clouds and a strong northern wind sprang up. With a start Gale realized that it would soon be night and unless she turned back now she could easily become lost. Whistling to Toto who was deeply engrossed in a bit of bark he had unearthed and which he was trying to shake into some semblance of life, she turned her back on the sunset to go back to the cottage. At her whistle Toto pricked up his ears and started on a run for her. She ran too. Together they romped until both had to stop for lack of breath.
Finally Gale put aside her thoughts of pleasure and concentrated on the landmarks about her. None of them were familiar. She subdued a sense of panic that gripped her. She must find the way back to the cottage. They could not stay in the open all night. Let’s see—she must have come that way, it looked like the tree around which she had chased Toto. Resolutely she started off in that direction. But it was not long before she discovered she was wrong. She came to a tiny stream of water, frozen over now with the ice of winter. She stood and looked at the mirror-like crust on the water. Toto, too, regarded his own reflection with interest. Turning her back upon the water Gale stared intently first to the north then to the south. She had not come upon this stream when she came from the cottage; therefore, all this time she must have been going away from, instead of toward, her home. Toto sat in the snow and regarded his friend with dancing eyes.
“You know, Toto,” she said speaking slowly to the dog who had his head cocked as if understanding every word, “I believe we are lost.”
At that the dog merely yawned.
“What will we do?”
Toto stood up and shook himself, trotted a few paces away and came back to look at her.
“Do you suppose you could find the way home?” she asked with a half smile. “You’re too much of a puppy to have much sense of direction yet, but we’ll try it. Which way do you want to go, Toto?”
The dog immediately trotted a few paces toward the north and stood waiting for her to follow him.
“All right,” she agreed. “We’ll go that way and I hope you are right!”
Gale walked along swiftly to keep the dog in sight. But soon she had to slacken her pace. She was tired, they had come far, and now she found it almost impossible to keep up a fast gait. Too, it was getting darker. The Canadian night was closing in upon them rapidly. She thought of Antoinette and François waiting, watching for her and scolded herself for ever coming so far. She thought of the warm supper awaiting them, of the warm bed which would feel so good now, and lashed herself on to a renewed pace. But it was hopeless. When it was so dark she could not see Toto ahead of her she halted and called the dog to her. She picked him up in her arms, she didn’t intend to lose her one companion in the wilderness. His rough, red tongue licked her chin affectionately and she almost dropped him.
“Toto, you are even a worse direction-picker than I am,” she declared, squeezing him. “We are really lost this time!”
Toto didn’t seem to mind. He snuggled down in her arms, even trying to get his head into her jacket pocket.
Gale grasped him more firmly and started to walk again. She didn’t know where or in what direction she was walking, she only knew she must keep in motion to keep the biting cold air from freezing her limbs. Then, too, sooner or later she must come to some house! She had a faint idea she was walking in the direction of the little village to which Antoinette had taken her. From there certainly she could find her way home.
The dog in her arms became heavier and heavier as Gale became more and more tired. It seemed almost impossible to carry him a step farther. She leaned against a tree and deposited him in the snow at its base. Toto protested with a grunt at being roused from his warm nap and hovered about her feet shivering.
“This
is a nice mess,” Gale said in disgust. “Why did you let me come so far, Toto?”
When Gale had regained her breath and felt in a measure rested she settled Toto comfortably in the crook of her arm and started out again. Nearly all night she trudged slowly through the snow and moonlight. Only the knowledge that she must keep moving kept her on her feet at all. She wanted to lie down and rest and sleep. Her eyelids felt weighted down. She was almost asleep on her feet. At last she submitted, as she must have in time, and sat down, her back against a sheet of rock to rest. The rest stretched into a sound sleep. Her head fell forward on her knees and Toto, too, slept peacefully by her side.
The sun was high when she awoke and started to her feet only to abruptly sit down again. Her muscles were stiff and arms and legs cramped and numb. Toto yawned, shook himself and ran a few paces and back to her side. Gale rubbed her arms and legs vigorously and stood up to survey their position.
Away to her right rose a cliff of rock and ice. Gale remembered she had been able to see this cliff with the peculiar formation of a man’s head from her window on clear days. Antoinette had laughingly referred to it as the Lonesome Man. It was the only jutting rise in their immediate horizon and the ice and rock had formed to make a perfect man’s head. Gale started in the direction of the Lonesome Man. It was her opinion that if she could climb upon the rocks she might be able to see the cottage in the spread of world at her feet. Then it would be a simple matter to steer a straight course for home.
But the Lonesome Man was farther away than it had at first appeared. Its very largeness gave it a sense of being close when in reality it was a mile away. Gale stubbornly clung to her first idea to climb upon it. Otherwise she would have absolutely no course of action and she would not be able to see the cottage from where she was on the ground. Toto trotted obediently by her side, looking up from time to time to observe the expressions on her face.
“Hungry, Toto?” she asked once and he barked in response. “So am I,” she declared laughingly. “But don’t worry, it won’t be long now. Once we are on Lonesome Man and can see the cottage—we shall be home soon then.”
Toto seemed to understand for he cavorted gaily, falling over himself in his exuberance.
It was the middle of the day when they came to Lonesome Man and Gale felt a gnawing hunger. The sun was directly overhead and she was keenly anxious to get back home. Antoinette and François would be anxious, that she knew.
The first step on Lonesome Man was a huge rock which must be gotten up on before one could continue up to a point of vantage where the ground would lay revealed openly. Every tree, every stream, every cottage for miles could be seen from the top of Lonesome Man’s head.
Gale, after some difficulty, managed to mount the huge rock which was the first step in her ascent. She stopped to rest and waved at Toto on the ground below. The dog set up a howl. He looked so plaintive and lonesome and howled so indiscreetly as to awaken a hundred echoes that Gale had no course but to come down after him. It took quite a while until both she and Toto had again negotiated the first step.
“See all the time we’ve wasted,” she complained to the dog, sitting beside him and letting her legs dangle over the rock, “just because you wouldn’t be good and stay on the ground.”
The dog showed his appreciation of her return for him by kissing her lavishly with his rough, red tongue, so lavishly that Gale had to scramble away.
She took the next rock to a point higher and hauled Toto up after her. The dog, after once sticking his nose over the edge and finding the ground quite a distance below him, cowered against the wall, his hair standing on edge.
Gale laughed. “Don’t be nervous, Toto; if you’re good you won’t fall off.”
The dog turned earnest brown eyes to her, his tail wagging faintly.
“You wouldn’t stay on the ground,” she reminded him. “Now you can just wait here for me.”
Gale climbed a little higher, the dog watching her, wanting to follow but afraid to move. The puppy was used to the good firm earth beneath him and was not at all sure that he should even let his friend out of his sight. Gale meantime was slowly finding foothold to reach the summit, the top of Lonesome Man’s head. Once when her foot slipped a shower of loosened rock and bits of ice rattled to the ground below. Gale held her breath and dug her fingers into the niches of the grey rock, holding on for dear life. When her panic subsided she found she was in no immediate danger of falling and could proceed with a maximum of caution.
Lonesome Man hadn’t seemed as high as he really was. When Gale reached the top she sat down and looked over the side. She shut her eyes quickly. It made her dizzy to think that she might have slipped with those pebbles. Of course even then it wouldn’t have been as far a fall as if she should slip now!
She wondered how Toto was but could not see him from her present position.
When her breath was coming naturally and she was feeling a little rested from her climb Gale could stir up enough interest to view her surroundings. Far to her right she could see a brown cottage which at first looked like the Bouchards’. But after a careful scrutiny she decided it wasn’t and turned in the opposite direction. Carefully her eyes wandered over the scene spread out before her. Trees, stripped of their summer splendor, stood revealed black and forlorn. Winter wind swayed their stripped branches. She beheld a moving object which at first she thought was a man, but later decided it was a bear. She shivered. Suppose she had met him in the dark last night!
Finally she saw another house, smoke rising from the chimney. This one stood in the center of a triangular clearing exactly like the Bouchard cottage. It must be home! She was surprised at its nearness. She had been searching the far horizon for it and had at first overlooked the objects nearer at hand. She sighed with relief and was about to climb down in order to waste no time in returning when she stopped, her attention caught by a small group of figures which had suddenly appeared in the clearing. She could not determine the identity of the people from where she was, but nevertheless she watched with interest. Only one she was sure of, François, hobbling with the aid of his crutch. There could be no mistaking him even at a distance.
She watched closely, noting every movement, while two men and a girl started off parallel to her, in the direction she had at first taken yesterday when she started out for her walk. Another man and a girl started directly toward her, while a last feminine figure remained standing beside François. Gale could not at first understand it. Then she concluded it was Antoinette and friends searching for her. It must be Antoinette and a friend who was coming toward her now.
Gale stood up on Lonesome Man’s head, the better to watch their progress. The wind whipped her dress about her and its piercing cold went right through her coat. At the same time she saw the two stop and suddenly the man pointed to her. The girl, Gale supposed her to be Antoinette, waved. She responded with an upraised arm. She could see they redoubled their efforts and were running toward her. It would not be so very long before they reached Lonesome Man.
Without wasting more time Gale started the downward climb. It was even more precarious picking her way down than it had been climbing up. The ice had frozen over spots that had been fairly easy to negotiate on the way up, but now she was afraid of skidding at every step. Twice she slipped and would have fallen had she not grasped the rocks on each side with all her strength. When she finally reached the spot where she had left Toto she breathed freely for the first time. It would be simple now to reach the broad rock at the base and from there jump to the ground. By that time Antoinette should be there. She looked away across the tree tops. She could make out the man and girl still coming toward her.
Gale swung her legs over the edge when she remembered Toto. She looked around. The dog was no longer crouching in safety by the solid rock wall. He had gone adventuring and now Gale gasped as she saw his dangerous position.
Unable to reach the high point his friend had obtained Toto had contented himself with snoopi
ng his way out onto the ledge of rock which made the Lonesome Man’s nose. It was a narrow ledge jutting out in a straight line for about five feet with nothing but the ground twenty feet below. There Toto had decided to await the return of Gale and she now found him interestedly watching her, his eyes dancing, red tongue dangling from white teeth.
“Come, Toto, we’re going home,” she urged.
His tail beat a tattoo on the rock ledge but he did not move.
“Come, Toto, come,” Gale coaxed.
She whistled, called, did everything to coax Toto from his position on the narrow ledge but he did not budge.
“I declare you’re laughing at me!” she scolded. “Now come, Toto! Oh, if I get my hands on you!”
Gale considered leaving Toto there upon the ledge and running to meet Antoinette. Perhaps she could coax the dog off. But just as she decided this, Toto decided to be good and started toward Gale. He had taken but one step when he looked from Gale to the ground below. He looked at the narrow span of rock which he must cross to reach her. Then he backed up and sat on the very edge of the ledge. His eyes pleaded with her to understand. He was frightened. He did not know how he had gotten here and was afraid to cover the distance to Gale where he would be safe. He shivered in the cold wind, a suddenly forlorn little figure.
Gale felt all her impatience with Toto fade away. The little thing was too frightened to come when she called him. She couldn’t go away and leave him there. Suppose he fell off! She looked at the ground. Snow had drifted in a huge pile against this side of Lonesome Man. The dog would be plunged straight down into the snow and perhaps onto rocks beneath.
She sighed and moved forward. She would have to get him. For a moment she considered the narrow ledge. It didn’t look as though it would hold much weight. At a little whimper from Toto, Gale crept forward. She put one foot on the ledge. Nothing happened. The surface was icy and she was in imminent danger of slipping at every inch she traversed. Toto, watching, contemplated her progress with sad brown eyes. He seemed to realize the peril of their position and did not once move.
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 274
