by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER VI A STRANGE MEETING
"That moose was very far north," said Gordon Duncan, as they sat dreamingby the fire after their first meal of moose steak. "One seldom finds themhere. He was alone. Moose and men are like that sometimes. They prefer tolive alone. Timmie was that way. He longed for solitude."
The old man's eyes were half closed. He appeared to be living in thepast. "Yes," he mused, "Timmie liked me. He promised to wait for me backthere behind the mountains. But he liked to be alone. He's waiting therestill, behind the mountains."
Johnny's lips were parted for a question regarding this long lost partnerand the green gold, but feeling the pressure of the girl's hand on hisarm, he left the question unasked.
"She's afraid of getting him excited and bringing on another attack," hethought to himself.
That night as he lay rolled in his blankets and the others slept fartherback in the cave-like shelter, he fell to wondering about the strangepair. Why had they gone so far into the wilderness? Why had they appearedto be afraid of other human beings? Why, in the end, had they lost alltheir fear of him and accepted him as a traveling companion? How much wasto be expected from the future? Was the old man's partly told tale of alost partner and the finding of green gold purely a work of theimagination, a fairy story, or was it all true? Would they find Timmie?Was he waiting still? Would the green gold be there? Was there much greengold? Was it valuable? Was--
So, wondering on and on, he fell asleep.
Next day, as they entered a narrow valley, after toiling down atreacherous slope, they came quite suddenly upon a well marked trail.Trees had been blazed here and there, and brush cleared away. True, therewere no marks of recent travel. Only here and there were signs that toldof someone passing weeks, perhaps months before. This trail came from theleft, down a narrow ravine, then paralleled the river on its waynorthward.
For a long time after discovering this trail, Gordon Duncan stood quitemotionless, apparently buried in deep thought.
When at last he led the way onward, it was to take up this trail. This hedid in silence. Not a word was uttered by any member of the party.
To Johnny this silence was eloquent. What had passed in Gordon Duncan'smind? Had he read in this freshly discovered trail signs of danger? Hadhe feared that his plans might be brought to nought? Had he, in the end,decided to risk it, to take the chance, to follow the trail? To all thesequestions Johnny could find no certain answer.
Noon came. They ate a cold lunch, then pressed forward. This day the oldman seemed eager and tireless.
"There's more to him than I thought," Johnny told himself as he moppedhis brow. "He may have a trick heart, but he certainly can cover themiles, may live to see us all in our graves yet."
By mid-afternoon they were passing over a level stretch of forest. To theright, the left, before, behind, short stout fir trees stood likesentries. The silence about them was oppressive. Not a branch quivered,not a pine needle stirred. When a white owl rose and went flap-flappingaway, his wings beat noisily.
In a moment he was gone, and only the steady pat-pat of feet on the trailwas to be heard.
Then slowly, as in a dream, there came to their overstrained ears asound. Faint, indistinct, it seemed at first but the approach of windthrough the treetops.
As they marched straight on this sound took form, the sound of many smalltinkling bells.
"Bells!" the girl whispered, stopping short in her tracks. "Sleighbells.A dog team." She clutched at her mackinaw as if to still the beating ofher heart.
Without a word, the old man turned and marched away at right angles tothe trail. There was no concealing their tracks here. The ground waslevel, the soft snow ten inches deep. Soon, however, they came to abarren ridge. Here they might walk upon rocks. Soon they were lost fromsight in a dark clump of fir trees.
There, breathing silently, uttering not a word, they waited.
"Why all this secrecy?" Johnny asked himself. "They know; I do not." Hefelt annoyed by it all. He turned to the girl, and was about to speakwhen, putting one hand to her lips, she pointed with the other.
A stout dog team had appeared down the trail. Behind the sled, clad inthe blue trousers and red jacket of the Mounties, trotted a strappingsix-footer.
"It's all right." A look of relief spread over Gordon Duncan's face."It's Corporal Simons of the Mounted. He has been in the wilderness formonths. We'll go to meet him. He may be able to tell us of a way acrossthe river."
"Queer business," Johnny thought to himself as he followed Gordon Duncanback to the trail.
"My old friend Gordon Duncan, as I live!" exclaimed the sturdy Corporalas he caught sight of them. "And Faye. But Man!" he exclaimed. "Why sofar back into this great beyond? Is it safe? You with your bows andarrows."
"No place is far in this fair land of ours," said Gordon Duncan. "As forthe bows and arrows, you'll find fresh meat in our packs."
"That's more than you'll find in mine," said the Corporal, "but I've beentraveling light and fast on the King's business. Sad business it is tobe, I fear. But say! The sun is about down. Back on my trail a half mileor so is a cabin of a sort. There's a rough fireplace and a Dutch oven onthe hearth. I thought of putting up there for the night. Since you'rehere I'll turn back. When a man's been on the trail among Indians andEskimos he welcomes a woman's hand at the cooking. I've a few suppliesback there." He gave Faye a warm smile.
"But who is this?" There was a note of distrust in his tone as he spoke.He had seen Johnny for the first time.
"Only another nimrod we picked up by the way," said Gordon Duncan.
"Well, we'll be getting on. Gee!" the Corporal spoke to his leader. Theteam whirled about. Grasping Faye's pack, the driver dropped it on thesled, then tossed her after it.
"No sort of thing for a girl to be doing," he grumbled, "packing her waythrough these wilds."
An hour later Johnny found himself seated at the corner of a rude stonefireplace. Before the fire, enjoying their pipes, sat Gordon Duncan andthe Corporal. From the hearth came delicious odors. From the Corporal'smeager supply of stores Faye had secured the proper ingredients for acake. It was now browning to a turn in the Dutch oven.
As the boy sat there dreaming and wondering about many things he caughtthe voice of the Corporal. He was telling of some recent happening.
"What do you suppose happened to the trader?" he demanded of GordonDuncan.
"Anything might. Snow-blindness, blizzard, wolves, an overflow on theriver."
"Fact is he didn't arrive." The Corporal's voice rose. "Those CaribouEskimos have come to depend upon him for ammunition. So there they are.And there they'll be starved in their tents. I can do nothing for them.Should I try to return with supplies it would be too late."
"It's as I have always said," Gordon Duncan's tone was low and deep. "Thenatives are better off without us. They lived before we came. How? By thebow, the spear, the snare and the deadfall. But now we have taught themto use firearms and if there is no ammunition they must starve.
"Two hundred miles, did you say?" He rose and began pacing the cabinfloor. "It is incredible that men should starve when we are so near.There must be a way."
"But there is no food here," said the Corporal. "A dozen rounds ofprovision here in this cabin. You chanced on a moose yesterday; otherwiseyou would be hungry, too."
"But the caribou will be flooding in from the Southwest."
"In another month, perhaps sooner. What does it matter? I do not haveammunition. Neither do you. You have only your bows and arrows."
"Corporal Simons," the old man paused to bang the table with his fist,"with bows and arrows we will save them. This young man, if he will, andFaye will go with me. We will show you what primitive weapons will do."
"Calm yourself." The Corporal's tone showed consternation. "You wouldn'tdrag a young woman into that barren land. I tell you they are starving.Desperate. Who can say what they might do? And after all," he added,"t
hey are but Eskimos, mere savages. It is sad, but the world will notmiss them."
"There are no savages," said Gordon Duncan, resuming his place by thefire. "In the eyes of the All Seeing One, all men are the same. In thepast many a white man, many a member of your force, has owed his life tothese simple people. Is it not so? Then we owe them their lives inreturn."
It was evident to Johnny that the Corporal knew something of GordonDuncan's state of health, for at a look from Faye he said no more.
A half hour later they were seated round a rough board table graced bysuch a feast as only a Scotch girl accustomed to the wilds could havespread before them.
The evening meal over, Gordon Duncan dropped into a great rustic chairbefore the fire. As Johnny watched he saw the old man start as a changecame over him. A battle of conflicting emotions played across hisexpressive face. Twice he half rose in his chair. Many times he clenchedhis fists tight. Three times he turned to speak to the Corporal. At last,as he sank down deep in his chair, a look of resignation came over hisface. Peace now reigned where a battle had raged. He was soon sleeping inhis chair.
Johnny could not read all the story that had been recorded there. He knewtoo little regarding the two possible courses of action that lay beforethem and the purposes and emotions that were back of them. He did knowthat an idea had taken possession of Gordon Duncan. He had had a partnerin the past. They had found some metal. He called it green gold. Was it?Whatever it was, the whole soul of the old man had been bent on findingthat partner and his treasure.
Now a man, an officer of the law, had told him of a starving people. Hehad at once conceived of a plan for helping them. Just what those planswere Johnny did not clearly know. Of one thing he felt certain. Havingobserved the old man and understanding something of his deep convictions,he felt sure that he would feel compelled to go to the aid of those whofaced starvation.
"Faye will go," the old man had said.
"Will I?" Johnny asked himself this question in all seriousness, but didnot attempt to answer it. He had seen much of life, had lived in manyclimes; but to go into the great white wilderness to a desperate tribe ofstarving half savages in the company of an old man and a girl, armed onlywith bows and arrows--
"What good could we possibly do?" he asked himself.
The simple household duties of the cabin done, Faye joined them besidethe fire.
She had been sitting there but a short time when a great shaggy dog, oneof the Corporal's team, rose from the floor and approached her. Afterkissing her hand he laid his shaggy head in her lap.
"He knows you," said the Corporal in surprise.
"Yes," she said. "He used to belong to a next door neighbor. You musthave bought him from that man. We are great friends," she said,addressing the dog. "Aren't we, Tico?"
At the sound of the name Tico, the dog gave forth a low woof, then stoodstaring intently into her eyes.
"Tell you what," the Corporal said quite suddenly. "I'll give him to you.Then if you go--" he hesitated, "wherever you go, he'll be company,protector and guide.
"He's not much account in the team, anyway," he added halfapologetically. "Too old when I took him. Dogs need to be trained young."
"I--I--why, thank you! That would be grand, wouldn't it, Tico?"
The dog woofed again; then, as if he had understood everything that hadbeen said, dropped to a place at her side.
"So now we are four," Johnny thought to himself as, rising from his placehe took up the axe and went out into the night to gather a fresh supplyof fuel.
When he returned Gordon Duncan was still fast asleep. Sitting quite closeto the girl, the Corporal was talking in low tones. As Johnny took hisplace he caught the word cabin. A little later a boat was spoken of, thentimber and a broad tundra.
Taking the stub of a pencil and a sheet of paper from his pocket, theofficer drew what was likely to be a rough map.
Johnny understood in a general way what was happening. The Corporalrealized that he had, without intending to do so, stirred up in GordonDuncan's breast a fire not easily quenched. He had so worked upon hisalmost exaggerated sense of duty that he would be driven to attempt theseemingly impossible. Without adding fuel to the flames by giving the oldman a detailed description of the route to be taken, he was impartingthat knowledge to Faye Duncan.
"Well thought out and mighty decent of him," was Johnny's mental comment.With that thought uppermost in his mind, he went about the business ofpreparing for a night's repose.
