CHAPTER VIII.

TIMBER WOLVES.

The town of Batzahakat is very much like Red Shirt. A few log cabins, one of which serves as a store, huddled together on the bank of the river. It was growing dark when two very tired boys and six nearly played out dogs and an Indian, who acknowledged that he had been more rested, dragged themselves up the bank and made their way along the single short street to the store.

"Do you know the man who keeps the store?" Bob had asked the Indian earlier in the day.

"Oui, Injun know heem. Heem name Jules Lamont. Heem Frenchman, no breed," Lucky told them.

"Is he all right?" Bob had asked.

"Oui, heem bon man," Lucky had assured them.

And now they soon found that he was again right for, as soon as they had entered the store, Jules Lamont gave them a hearty welcome and assured them that he had plenty of room for them in his cabin just out behind.

Jules Lamont had a wife who was fully as kind in her welcome as was he and she was a splendid cook as they soon learned.

"Gee, but it seems kind of good to get into a bed once more," Jack said when, soon after supper, their host had shown them to a well furnished room above the living room. There were two beds in the room and Lucky occupied the other.

Yes, he remembered Silas Lakewood very well and the man Long as well, he told them the next morning when, while eating breakfast, they told him of their errand.

"They stay here three four days," he told them in almost perfect English.

"Did they say where they were going?" Bob asked.

"They say they go up river, but not how far."

"And you haven't seen them since?"

"Not since."

"Do you remember just how long ago it was they were here?" was Bob's next question.

"Pretty hard say. Time goes ver' slow up here an' I forget. Mebby seven weeks, mebby eight or nine, but no more than nine sure."

"Do you know Long?" Jack asked.

"Oui, I know him long time."

"What kind of a man is he?"

"Not good. I not trust him."

"He's sure got a bad reputation," Jack said. "We haven't heard a single good word about him yet."

"After breakfast over we go see some other men an' ask them what they know," Jules told them.

He had urged them the night before to stay over a day and they had agreed after Lucky had assured them that a day's rest would be of great benefit to the dogs and that they would more than make up for the lost time.

"One day geeve snow time to settle an' mak' more bon goin'," he assured them.

By noon they had interviewed probably nearly everyone in the village, Jules going with them and introducing them. They found the people universally courteous and eager to be of service, but they learned no more than they already knew. It was evident that neither their uncle or Long had confided in anyone, keeping their destination a secret.

The next morning they got an early start. Although it would be several hours before the sun would make its appearance, it was not dark as the moon was full. The dogs had indeed profited by their day's rest and had fully recovered their eagerness or pep as Jack put it. It was twenty-five degrees below zero when they drove off after thanking their host and hostess for their kindness.

"We ver' glad to have you an' hope you find your uncle all right an' hope you stop longer time on way back," Jules Lamont told them as he shook hands.

"We'd sure like to and will if we can," they assured him.

"He's a mighty fine man," Bob said as soon as they were out of the village.

"And his wife's a queen if there ever was one," Jack added.

"If you've got any more friends like them up this way just lead us to them," Bob told Lucky.

"Jules, heem best, but they some others," Lucky said.

Their way now lay straight up the river and, as the snow had settled, they were able to make better time especially as they found that two or more teams had been ahead of them and broken a fairly good trail.

They had been traveling for about three hours and the sun was just beginning to show itself when Jack, who was walking slightly ahead of the Indian, turned to ask him a question. Instead of answering him, to his surprise Lucky grabbed up a handful of snow and the next instant he was vigorously rubbing Jack's nose with it.

"Hey, there, what's the b-b-big idea?" he sputtered.

"White boy hold still."

"Like f-f-fun I w-w-will. I-I-I want t-to know—"

"Don't get excited, Jack," Bob laughed.

"But—"

"Your nose was freezing."

"Freezing nothing. I didn't feel a thing," Jack retorted.

"And that's just what the trouble was. But I reckon you can feel it now."

"I'll say I can. It hurts."

"That's the frost coming out of it. It'll be all right after a bit," Bob assured him.

"Jack have heap bad nose, Injun no rub heem," Lucky explained.

"And I'm much obliged," Jack grinned realizing now that the Indian had indeed done him a good turn.

They were two days making the next town about eighty miles farther north. This was Arctic City, so called because of being situated exactly on the Arctic Circle. The weather had held clear and cold and they had made good time and were in good spirits as they entered the town about three o'clock. Although only the middle of the afternoon it was dark enough for lights in the cabins. Indeed there was only about five hours a day during which the sun was above the horizon.

Arctic City much resembled the other towns through which they had passed and they found the people much the same type. They were kindly received and secured a comfortable room for the night. During the evening they interviewed several of the men of the place most of whom were known to the Indian. But it was just as they were about to start off the next morning that they received their first real clue.

The dogs were harnessed and Lucky had already given the order to "Mush" when a very small man dressed in a heavy bearskin coat shouted to them to wait a minute.

"Wonder what he wants," Bob said as Lucky ordered the dogs to stop.

"Reckon we'll know in a minute," Jack told him.

"Yer lookin' fer two mans, eh?" the little man asked as he came puffing up.

"Yes," Bob told him. "Can you give us any information regarding them?"

"Mebby. What der name?"

"Silas Lakewood is one and the other is a man named Long."

"Oui, I see 'em."

"When?" Bob asked the question with much eagerness in his voice.

"'Bout seex week ago."

"And where did you see them?"

"Een Mountain nor' of Beaver."

"Where is Beaver?" Jack broke in.

"'Bout feefty mile nor' here."

"And how far from Beaver are the mountains?"

"'Bout same."

"Please tell us what you knew."

"Oui. 'Bout seex week ago me go up dar hunt bear. No find heem an' stay long time, ten day, mebby two week. Go round ver' mooch. One day I see leetle cabin an' smoke come out heem. I been dar before an' never see cabin so I know heem new. I go up an' go to knock on door when I hear mad man talk. I leesten an' hear heem say 'you sign dat paper or you no go away from here. I leesten an' hear nodder man say, 'I no sign heem'. Den odder man heem sware ver' mooch an' I come away. I think eet not my beeseness an' I stay mebby I geet hurt."

"But what makes you think they were the men we are after?" Bob asked when he had finished.

"I hear one man call odder dat name, Lakewood," the man told them.

"Then I reckon they were the men all right," Bob said turning to Jack and Lucky.

"No doubt about it," Jack agreed while the Indian nodded his head.

"And do you think they are still there?" Bob asked.

"I dunno 'bout that. I come away: no see 'em any more."

"Do you know where that place is?" Bob asked turning to Lucky.

"Oui, I been there."

"And you think you can find that cabin?"

Instead of replying the Indian turned to the small man and asked: "You tell me where heem be, eh?"

"Dar two beeg mountain up dar. You know heem?"

"Oui."

"Cabin right 'tween 'em 'bout half way een."

"Bon. I find heem."

Bob pulled a five dollar bill from his pocket and offered it to the man, but he shook his head.

"Please take it," Bob urged. "Your information is worth a lot to us and I want to make you a little present. Just take it and buy yourself something."

After a little hesitation the man accepted the bill thanking Bob with a great display of feeling.

"Well, it looks as though we had something definite to go on now," Jack declared as soon as they were once more on the river.

"Do you know that man?" Bob asked the Indian.

"Non."

"You never saw him before?"

"Non."

"Then we don't know whether he was telling the truth or not."

"But why would he lie to us?" Jack asked.

"I don't know unless it was to get some money."

"But he didn't want to take it."

"He didn't seem to you mean."

"Well, maybe, but he looked honest to me."

"And he did to me too. What do you think, Lucky?"

"I think heem straight."

"Then I reckon it's all right. We'll take it for granted anyhow until we find out to the contrary."

Greatly to their disappointment they got no more information in the little village of Beaver which they reached late that night. No one seemed to have seen the men although they found several who said that they knew Long, but none of them had seen him for more than a year.

"Looks as though they had given this burg the go-by," Jack said when they were in the little room which they had secured for the night.

"It does look that way," Bob agreed. "I wonder why?"

"Probably too near the scene of their operations."

"Maybe."

"But the farther north we go the worse that man Long's reputation seems to get."

"He must be a bad egg for a fact. He's certainly not popular."

They camped the next night at the beginning of the pass which led between the two mountains which reared their snowy summits far up toward the sky.

"Cabin not more'n 'bout two mebby three mile from here," Lucky told them as he halted the team. It was only two o'clock, the place not being so far from the town as they had thought from what the little Frenchman had told them. Lucky had told them when starting out that morning that he thought the man was mistaken as to the distance but, as he had not been there for a number of years, he was not sure.

They had found a splendid place for a camp. Beneath an overhanging rock, the ground was almost free from snow as a circle of thick spruce trees in front and about twenty feet away had protected it on the open side. Here they made beds of thick spruce boughs and a roaring fire soon warmed the face of the rock by its reflection so that it seemed impossible that the temperature outside was nearly forty below. Before leaving the river early the preceding day, they had stopped long enough to cut a hole in the ice and allow Jack to catch a dozen large trout and five or six salmon, enough, as Bob said, to last them a couple of weeks.

After supper was over they sat for some time in front of the fire and discussed plans for the morrow.

"We got be ver' careful," Lucky told them. "Dat man, Long, heem bad man an' heem get mad he shoot, oui."

"But we'll be three against one, not counting Uncle Silas," Jack reminded him.

"But heem got gun an' bullet go ver' fast."

"Lucky's right, Jack," Bob declared. "We must play it safe. Of course there may not be any trouble and everything may be all right and I sure hope it is but if he's keeping Uncle up here against his will, the way it looks, he's probably playing for big stakes."

"But why should he want to keep him up here?"

"That's what we've got to find out. According to what that man said he was trying to get him to sign some paper. Now, if that's right, my guess is that they've found gold and he was trying to get him to sign away his rights to it. Of course, that's only a guess."

"Heem ver' bon guess," Lucky added.

"Couldn't make a better myself," Jack assured him.

"Then I'm flattered," Bob smiled.

"Then what do you think we'd better do?" Jack asked, turning to the Indian.

"I tink you better stay here an' Injun go up see what doin'."

"Don't you think it would be better for me to go?" Bob asked.

"White boy no know way," Lucky objected.

"But I couldn't help finding it if it's between these mountains. You see, it's this way. That man Long knows you and if he should see you he'd smell a mouse, but he's never seen me."

Although the Indian saw the force of the argument and made many objections to the plan he finally gave in and it was settled that as soon as it was light enough to see Bob should start to spy out the land.

That night, for the first time in several days, they heard wolves, but they were far off and Lucky did not think that they had scented them.

Although he could hardly believe it the thermometer said forty below when he left the camp, but so clear and dry was the air that it hardly seemed cold at all.

The passage between the mountains was very narrow, in fact, there was hardly any level ground between them, one seeming to rise at the foot of the other, so he had little fear of missing the cabin provided it was really there. The dry snow creaked pleasantly beneath his snow-shoes as he strode along humming a favorite song. Tall trees grew so closely together that he was unable to keep to anything like a straight course, but this gave him no worry. He had the day before him and there was no hurry.

He had gone perhaps three quarters of a mile when he was brought up short by a long drawn out howl, seemingly not very far away.

"That was a timber wolf," he thought as he peered anxiously through the trees.

The howl was answered almost immediately from the side of the other mountain and, for a moment, he wondered if he would not be wise to turn back.

"I don't belive ther's more than two of them," he thought as he listened.

But even as the thought passed through his mind a third howl broke the stillness and this one was surely behind him.

"Seem to have me surrounded," he muttered, as he started on again.

Whether there were more than three of the wolves he was unable to tell, but that they were coming nearer there was no doubt. Soon, peering through an opening in the trees, he caught sight of a skulking gray shape just as it raised its head and sent its mournful howl through the forest. But that howl was its last for, before it was finished, he had raised his rifle and sent a bullet crashing through its head. The wolf dropped in its tracks, gave a convulsive kick or two and was still.

"One less anyhow," Bob muttered as he ran forward to where the wolf was stretched.

About ten yards from where he was standing was a large tree with low branches and, as another howl rang out not hundred yards away, he ran toward it resolved to make a stand there knowing that wolves could not climb a tree and that, if worst came to worst, he could find temporary safety at least in its branches.

By this time he knew that there were more than three of the beasts and, by the sounds he judged that there must be nearly a dozen. Soon he caught sight of another gray form and, quickly raising his rifle, fired his second shot. The wolf fell but, almost before he was stretched on the snow, from all sides, gray shapes sprang upon him and in an incredibly short time the dead wolf was torn in pieces and devoured. A moment later and the first one killed was discovered and had shared a like fate. And still the ravenous beasts were not satisfied and in less than ten minutes from the time he had fired the second shot the pack was gathered in a semi-circle about twenty-five feet away, snapping and snarling and gradually closing in. He had not fired again hoping that they would be satisfied with the feast already provided and go away. But their appetite seemed only to be whetted and he fired again.

"Here's where little Bobby seeks safer quarters while they're busy," he muttered as he swung himself up onto the lowest branch of the tree. "I imagine Jack and Lucky'll hear the rumpus and come to my rescue," he thought. "Anyhow I'm safe enough and can pick them off at my leisure, if they choose to stay around."

The third wolf was quickly dispatched and the pack, about fifteen in number were soon gathered beneath the tree voicing their disappointment in mournful howls. Taking careful aim at the largest beast he pulled the trigger but, to his surprise, only a slight click resulted. Thinking there might be a defective cartridge in the rifle he pulled back the ejector. But to his dismay it stuck when half way back.

"Now I am in a fix," he said half aloud. "Mighty funny the thing had to stick at just this time especially when it's never done it before."

All this time he had been working feverishly in an effort to remove the cartridge, but he soon found that, without the aid of a screwdriver, it could not be done.

Then the thought that he had his automatic came to him and he took new heart. But his joy was short lived for the revolver was gone. He couldn't understand it, he told himself over and over again. He distinctly remembered shoving it into place in his belt just before starting. Then he remembered that, a short time before he heard the first wolf, he had tripped and fallen headlong.

"It must have dropped out when I fell," he told himself. "Wouldn't I have been in a nice fix if there had been no trees anywhere around?" And he shuddered as he looked down at the hungry beasts only a few feet beneath him.

He knew that he was safe so far as the wolves were concerned, but the intense cold was beginning to work through his clothing. Hustling along on snow-shoes at forty below zero was one thing, but roosting up in the branches of a tree at the same temperature was quite another, he told himself. He wondered why Jack and Lucky had not put in an appearance and then, for the first time he noticed that a strong wind was blowing and that it was coming from the direction of the camp.

"Perhaps that wind's so strong that they haven't heard the wolves or the shots," he thought.

It seemed that his last thought must be correct for a full hour passed and there was no sign of his friends. He knew it would be of no use to shout for if they had not heard the wolves and his shots it was dead certain that they would not hear him. If they had heard anything to give them the idea that he might be in trouble they would have had no trouble in following his tracks as they were the only ones visible. Hence, he reasoned, they had heard nothing. He did not know whether it was growing colder or not, but he was quite sure that he was, and, having a firm seat in a crotch, he spent much of the time beating his body with his arms in an effort to keep out as much of the cold as possible.

The wolves showed no signs of giving up. To be sure they were no longer leaping and howling, but had assumed an attitude of what he called watchful waiting. It was, he knew, only a question of being able to stand the cold long enough. Jack and Lucky would be after him when he did not return soon after they would expect him.

Another hour passed and he began, for the first time, to be really frightened. For a long time he had been shaking with the cold, but now he did not feel nearly so cold and a peculiar drowsiness was stealing over him, an almost overwhelming desire to sleep. He knew what that meant and, with all the force of his will, he fought against it. For awhile he kept changing his position, but now he feared to move for fear he would fall. So he wedged himself in a crotch between the trunk and a large limb in such a way that in case he lost consciousness his body would be held.

"God grant that they may come in time," was his last conscious thought and then he drifted off into nothingness.

CHAPTER IX.

THE RESCUE.

"Isn't it about time Bob was getting back?"

Jack looked at his watch as he asked the question.

"What time heem be?" Lucky asked

"Quarter past one."

"Oui, heem ought be here ver' soon."

"You don't suppose anything has happened to him?" Jack asked anxiously.

"Non, but wind heem change. We goin' have snow."

"Well I wish he'd come. Somehow I feel uneasy."

"Heem come soon."

For another half hour they waited, Jack getting more and more uneasy.

"Hark!"

"That wolf."

"And it came from up that way." Jack indicated the direction which Bob had taken.

"Geet gun, we go queek."

Throwing some wood on the fire so that it would last until they should return they quickly tied on their snow-shoes and, taking their rifles, were off at the fastest pace they could muster.

"You think the wolves are after him?" Jack asked as they hurried along.

"Mebby. But heem climb tree."

"But he'd have shot and we didn't hear any shots."

"Wind, heem wrong."

They had gone but a short distance when Jack's quick eye caught sight of something lying nearly concealed in the snow. Stooping he picked up Bob's automatic.

"It's Bob's," he gasped holding it out so that the Indian could see it.

"Oui, heem Bob's."

"But how did it come here?"

"See, heem fall here. Mebby gun heem fall out."

"But I don't see how it could have," Jack objected.

"Heem fall here," Lucky insisted.

"Sure he did, but I don't see how he could have lost this gun. But it won't do any good to stand here talking about it."

They had heard the mournful howl of the wolves several times since they started, and Jack grew more and more alarmed as they advanced and he could see that the Indian was not entirely easy in his mind although he was doing his best to conceal it.

"We ver' near where wolf be," Lucky declared as a long drawn out howl came from only a short distance ahead.

"Sounds that way," Jack agreed.

"Have gun ready."

"You bet."

They hurried along for a few minutes and then Lucky, who was a few feet ahead of Jack, suddenly stopped and raised his rifle. Instantly a shot rang through the woods followed by a loud yelp of pain. Jack hurried to his side and from there could see the pack as they gathered about the foot of the tree. But at that moment they were engaged in a mad fight to see which should get the choicer portions of their fallen comrade.

"Let heem have eet," Lucky shouted, and Jack began pumping lead into the pack as rapidly as he could work the ejector.

Wild yelps of pain mingled with the fierce growls of combat filled the air. Then, just as Jack had emptied the magazine of his rifle, one of the wolves saw them and with a sharp bark of anger left the pack and sprang toward them. Jack saw that the wolf would be upon them before he could get his rifle loaded and cast a quick glance at the Indian. But he too had exhausted his magazine and was hurriedly loading. The wolf was now only a few feet away and behind him were several others and he knew there was not an instant to lose. Dropping his gun he snatched his automatic from his belt and, just as the leading animal was about to take the final spring, he fired. The huge wolf fell dead at his feet a bullet in his brain, but another was upon them almost instantly. Jack fired again, but this time he must have missed for the wolf did not stop and before he could fire again he was upon him. As they came to the ground Jack succeeded in getting a firm hold on the long hair at the beast's neck and, pushing with all his strength, he was able to keep the huge jaws away from his throat. Over and over they rolled in the snow, but almost at once the boy heard the crack of Lucky's rifle and knew that the Indian had loaded and was firing again.

After what seemed a long time and just when it seemed that he could not hold those terrible jaws away another instant he heard a muffled shot close at hand and instantly he felt a convulsive shudder pass through the wolfs body and the head fell forward in his grasp. Flinging it from him he sprang to his feet.

"Heem hurt you?"

"Only a few scratches I reckon," Jack panted. "Where are the rest of them?"

"Them run, but we kill most all."

Jack quickly glanced toward the tree, but only the still forms lying on the snow met his gaze.

"Bob must be up that tree," he said as he looked about for his automatic which had fallen from his hand when the wolf hit him. He located it almost at once and, shoving it into his belt, he picked up his rifle and started for the Indian who was already nearly to the tree.

"Bob! Bob! Oh Bob!" he shouted as he ran.

But there was no answer and his heart almost stopped beating as he joined Lucky beneath the branches of the tree.

"You—you don't—" he began, but the Indian interrupted.

"Heem must be up thar."

"Take my rifle and I'll have a look," Jack said as he handed over the gun and swung himself up.

"He's here," he called a minute later. "But—but I can't seem to wake him."

The Indian was beside him almost before he had finished speaking.

"Heem no dead," he declared after he had laid his ear over his heart. "We geet heem down an' back to camp queek."

It was hard work getting the heavy body down out of the tree, but they did it quickly knowing that a moment more or less might well mean his life. The ground seem literally covered with the bodies of the wolves, but they took no heed of them as they quickly fastened on their snow-shoes and started back, the Indian carrying Bob over his shoulder. Fortunately Jack's shoes had not been damaged in the fight and he went ahead carrying their rifles. Not once did the Indian stop and he refused to allow Jack to carry him or to help, asserting that they could make better time that way. Jack was amazed at the Indian's strength and the speed which he was able to maintain with such a heavy load.

Arrived back the Indian laid the still form on a blanket over the bed of boughs and started rubbing his limbs while Jack hurried to get out their medicine case. For fully fifteen minutes they worked before the first sign of returning life rewarded them. Over and over Jack moaned that he was dead, but the Indian insisted that it was not so and they kept on. Then Jack noticed a slight twitching of one eyelid and fell to work with renewed hope.

"Heem heart geet stronger," Lucky assured him.

"He's opening his eyes," Jack declared a moment later.

A low moan followed Jack's words and Bob opened his eyes. A faint smile played about his mouth, but he was too weak to speak.

"Don't try, old man," Jack cried.

"Tank de Bon Father," Lucky murmured.

They continued to work on him for some time and as the color returned to his face Jack thanked God over and over again for His great goodness.

"We see him feet froze," Lucky said after a little.

Quickly they unlaced the moccasins and pulled off the heavy woolen socks.

"Oui, dem froze," Lucky declared.

"Badly?"

"Non, no bad. Rub wid snow."

Jack did as ordered and had the great satisfaction of seeing the color come slowly back.

"Them be heap sore for 'while, but them geet well," Lucky declared after a few minutes.

By this time Bob was able to whisper a few words, but the Indian cautioned him to save his strength and soon he fell into a deep sleep.

"More heem sleep now the better," Lucky assured Jack.

"You think he'll be all right?"

"Oui, eef heem no have pneumonia."

"You think there's danger of it?"

"Some, but heem ver' strong an' clean. Mebby heem no geet eet."

They took turns watching by his side through the long hours of the night fearful lest the dreaded fever develop. But Bob slept nearly all the time, waking only to ask for water. Once Jack was sure that he had a temperature and awakened the Indian. But he thought not and a little later slight drops of moisture on his forehead proved that he was right.

Morning came at last and with it the glad news from Lucky that the danger was passed and that Bob would be all right.

"But eet one ver' close call," he said.

Bob was very weak, too weak in fact to talk much and the Indian insisted that he keep perfectly quiet. With the light came the first flakes of snow presaging the coming of the storm which the Indian had been expecting.

"Injun mak' hut, you tend heem," he ordered.

He took one of the axes and went off into the woods to return a few minutes later dragging a number of long poles which he had trimmed clear of branches. With these and a lot of spruce boughs he quickly fashioned a rude, but strong tepee large enough to accommodate the three of them.

"You think it's going to be a bad storm?" Jack asked after they had placed Bob inside.

"Mebby. Most storm some bad up here."

"How long will it be before Bob is able to go on?"

"Two, mebby three day."

"Well, we must wait till he's all right."

"Oui, we wait."

In less than an hour if was evident that they were in for another blizzard and they spent the greater part of the day getting in a large supply of firewood. Fortunately they found a number of dead trees only a short distance off and by dark Lucky was certain that they had enough to last for at least three days. Bob had slept most of the time and seemed stronger every time he awoke. About four o'clock he awoke and wanted to know if it wasn't most time to eat. He ate all the Indian would let him and then declared that he was strong enough to tell them of his adventure.

"All right, but you stop queek you geet tired," Lucky cautioned him.

"I know I was going to sleep, simply couldn't help it, and I was almost equally sure that I wouldn't wake up in this world," he told them when he had finished.

"We must have gotten there very soon after you went to sleep," Jack said.

"Oui, ver' queek or heem no wake," Lucky added

"How many wolves did you kill?" Bob asked.

"We didn't stop to count them," Jack laughed. "But we must have shot all of a dozen. What do you think, Lucky?"

"Mebby dozen, mebby more. Two three got 'way."

"Well, I hope I never see another wolf as long as I live," Bob declared.

"Same here," Jack added.

"We see heap more," Lucky shook his head.

"I suppose so," Jack agreed.

"Injun do wrong let boy go."

"None of that stuff now," Bob said quickly. "I'd have been all right if I hadn't been clumsy enough to lose my gun and that wasn't your fault."

"But Injun—"

"Forget it," and Lucky never mentioned the subject again.

All that night and all the following day it snowed and blew. How the wind did blow outside, but beneath the overhang of the cliff where they had pitched the tepee it was comparatively still and thanks to the thick circle of trees, only a small amount of snow found its way to them. At one side, but beneath the overhang, Lucky had constructed a rough shelter for the dogs and they were, as Jack had said, "well stabled."

Long before both Jack and Bob had made warm friends with the members of the team and although it would be extremely dangerous for a stranger to touch any of them, they found they could do anything with them. In fact, as Lucky declared, "Them dog adopt you white boys ver' queek."

It had been the Indian's intention to start out on a reconnoitering expedition himself the morning following Bob's adventure, but so fierce was the storm that he knew it would be folly to attempt it. Bob passed a good night and in the morning insisted that he was all right and wanted to get up, but Lucky would not hear of it.

"Mebby you geet up tomorrow, mebby not. No geet up today an' that flat, oui."

"All right, you're the doctor," Bob laughed good naturedly, but he chafed at the restraint.

It was still snowing hard when they went to bed that night, but Lucky declared that the wind was working around into the west and that it would clear before morning. And he was right for the morning dawned clear and cold.

"Forty below," Jack announced as he looked at the thermometer which he had placed on the other side of the tepee.

"That's kind of chilly around the edges," Bob laughed as he pulled on his moccasins.

He had insisted on getting up and Lucky, after a show of reluctance, had given in.

"How much snow has fallen?" Jack asked the Indian who just then entered the tepee.

"Heap lot. Eet drift ver' much, but must be four feet on level. Breakfast heem ready."

"And so are we and hungry too," Bob told him.

"You feel all right, oui?"

"Fine's a fiddle."

"No weak?"

"No weak."

"Bon."

"Bon is right," Bob smiled.

"And now what's the program?" Jack asked as soon as the meal was finished.

"We all go find cabin?" Lucky looked at Jack and then at Bob.

"Fine." Both the boys spoke the word at the same time.

They left in about a half hour just as the sun was casting its first rays into the defile. They found the traveling extremely hard as the snow was light and their snow-shoes sank several inches at every step. But they took it easy, Lucky in the lead, for he was afraid, that, in spite of Bob's declaration, the boy had not as yet fully recovered his strength. It took them the better part of an hour to reach the scene of Bob's adventure and he was unable to prevent a shudder as he caught sight of the tree in the branches of which he had so nearly perished. The bodies of the wolves were, of course, buried deep beneath the snow and there was nothing except remembrance to recall the terrible experience.

"You tired?" Lucky asked Bob as they stopped beneath the tree.

"Little bit," Bob replied reluctantly.

"We rest leetle beet, oui?"

"Guess we better, but I'm all right."

"You feel bon, eh?"

"I sure do," Bob assured. "Only a bit puffed."

"How far do you suppose it is to the cabin?" Jack asked.

"No can say. Eet may be mile mebby two, mebby three. Fellers up here no sure of distance."

"In which respect they haven't a thing on a lot people back home," Jack laughed. "Remember that farmer, Bob, up near Jackman, who told us it was only a little over a mile to town when it was exactly four and a half?"

"And he'd lived there all his life," Bob laughed.

After a short rest they started off again, Bob taking the lead with strict orders from Lucky to go slow and not get tired. Not a breath of wind stirred the branches of the trees and not a sound save the crunch of their snow-shoes on the dry snow. All nature seemed at rest and, although the sun was low in the sky, its rays had raised the temperature noticeably since they left the camp.

"My, but it's getting real hot," Jack laughed as he took off his cap and went through the motions of fanning himself. "I don't believe it's much more than thirty below."

They had stopped again for a breathing spell and Bob, in spite of his efforts to conceal it, was breathing heavily.

"You no so strong you tink, eh?" Lucky asked anxiously.

"Oh, I'm all right only I seem to get out of wind rather easily," Bob asserted.

"We tak' heem more easy."

"All right. You're the boss."

"We've made about two miles don't you think?" Jack asked, turning to Lucky.

"'Bout."

"Then I suppose we're apt to run into that cabin most any time now."

"Mebby."

But another long mile lay before them before they came to the end of their search. Bob was again in the lead and he suddenly stopped and held up one hand as a signal for the others to come to a halt.

"What is it?" Jack asked as he came back to where they were standing.

"The cabin is about fifty feet from where I was," he announced in a low tone.

"You see heem?"

"Yes."

"You see smoke come from heem chimney?"

"No, there was none."

"White boys stay here while Injun go see."

Without waiting for them to object the Indian started off and was almost at once lost to sight amid the thick trees.

"Was it a big cabin?" Jack asked

"Not so big."

"If there was no smoke it looks as though there was no one there, I should say."

"It sure looks that way, but I reckon we'll know before long."

In less than ten minutes they heard Lucky shout for them to come.

"That settles that part of it," Bob declared as they started.

"Sure does," Jack agreed.

In another moment they were through the fringe of trees and in plain sight of the little cabin which stood beneath the branches of one of the largest spruces they had ever seen. Lucky was standing a few feet from the door and they could see that the snow was banked nearly half way to its top.

"And there are no tracks except his," Jack declared as they advanced.

"No one home?" Bob asked trying to conceal his disappointment.

"Non, no one home," Lucky echoed.

The three looked at each other for a full minute before anyone spoke again.

"We must get in," Bob finally said.

"It's going to be some job to get that door open without a shovel," Jack declared.

"How about a window?"

"Oui, we geet in window."

There were but two windows, one on each side, and they consisted of a single pane of glass about fourteen inches square.

"Going to be a pretty tight squeeze even if we can get it open," Bob said as they halted after making a circuit of the cabin.

"But I reckon we can make it," Jack declared as he stepped close to the window and began to examine it. "It's nailed fast," he announced a moment later.

"Think we can drive it open?" Bob asked.

"Could if we had a hammer or an axe."

"Which we haven't, but there's a pile of wood out back. You wait a minute till I see what I can find."

He was back shortly with two sticks of wood one about a foot long and an inch or more thick while the other was nearly four feet long and about three times as thick.

"Here we are," he said as he handed the small piece to Jack. "Now, you hold that against one corner and I'll see what I can do."

Jack did as directed and Bob began to hammer the end of the stick with his club, gently at first and then harder as the frame showed no sign of yielding.

"Guess they must have used spikes," he said as he paused to examine the frame after he had struck thirty or more blows.

"Mebby better try other one," the Indian suggested.

"Not a bad idea," Bob agreed. "Come on, Jack, perhaps that one isn't nailed so hard."

"I'm going to get in there if I have to break the glass," Jack declared as he followed the others around to the other side.

"I hope it won't be necessary."

"She's giving a bit," Jack shouted after Bob had been hammering away for about five minutes.

"Good."

"Bon."

"That's enough. I think I can push it out the rest of the way," Jack told them after a few more blows had made a large crack between the window frame and the sill.

"All right. Go to it," Bob panted.

Jack pushed with all his strength and finally had the satisfaction of forcing the window completely out.

"Now for the squeeze," he said as he laid the window down on the snow.

"Better take a good look around inside there first," Bob cautioned.

"Don't see anything to be afraid of," he announced a moment later. "So here goes."

Jack and Lucky had little difficulty in getting in, but Bob was thicker and with him it was indeed a tight squeeze and they had to help him. But finally they were all in and ready to inspect the cabin.

To be sure the small windows admitted but little light, but they were able to see well enough after the first few minutes. The cabin consisted of but a single room and was meagerly furnished. An old rusty cook stove in the center, a rough table and three old straight backed chairs together with a couple of rude bunks filled with spruce boughs about completed the inventory, with the exception of a rough closet at one end which contained a few pots and pans and a few cracked dishes and three or four knives, forks and spoons. The floor was of dirt.

"Gee, it doesn't look as though anyone had lived here for a good while," Jack said after they had made the complete circuit of the big room.

"It sure doesn't look promising," Bob agreed.

"Heem look ver'—what you call heem—punk," Lucky added.

"Punk is right and then some," Jack told him.

"But the place looks mighty clean," Bob declared.

"But that doesn't mean anything, does it?"

"I don't know that it does," Bob acknowledged.

"How long since anyone has been here," Jade asked, turning to the Indian.

"No can tell."

"But you can guess."

"Mebby week, mebby year." Lucky shook his head.

"And that's not very definite,"

"Not ver'," Lucky confessed.

All this time the Indian had been moving about examining each object with the utmost minuteness in an effort, he explained a few minutes later, to get a clue as to what manner of men had last occupied the cabin and how long ago they had been there. But he was forced to acknowledge that it was too much for him and that he was beat.

"Injun hate geev up," he said shaking his head sadly. "But no can tell."

"But I've found something."

Bob was at the other end of the room from the others as he spoke and they hastened to where he was closely examining one of the logs which was about on a level with his shoulders.

"What is it?" Jack asked eagerly.

Bob made no reply, but pointed with his finger.

"S. L."

Jack spelled out the letters slowly and then looked at his brother.

"Well?" he asked.

"S. L. stand for Silas Lakewood, don't they?" Bob asked a bit impatiently.

"They could, of course, but don't forget that they could also stand for a good many other names as well. It doesn't look to me as though those letters were cut there very recently. What do you say, Lucky?"

The Indian looked at the letters for a long time before he made any reply, but he finally turned to Jack and said:

"Heap hard tell, but Injun tink them not ver' old, mebby three, mebby four week."

"Why do you think so?" Bob asked.

"Color wood tell Injun."

"Well, I think it's a pretty safe bet that he's been here anyhow," Bob declared.

"But we knew that before," Jack said. "Or at least we have that man's word for it."

"Yes and these letters make it pretty near certain, don't you think, Lucky?"

"Oui, heem been here."

"Granted for the sake of the argument, and now what's the next step?"

"I'll never tell you," Bob said soberly.

"It kind of looks to me as though we're at the end of our rope so to speak," Jack declared.

"What's your opinion, Lucky?" Bob asked.

"Eet not bon—what you call heem—situation," the Indian began after a moment of deep thought. "We no can track heem in fresh snow, Lightnin' heem bon tracker, but no bon here."

"But we can't give up yet," Bob told him.

"We no geeve heem up."

"Then what?"

"Mebby we wait two, three day, mebby dey come back, eh?"

"And mebby they won't," Jack added. "But I guess that's as good a plan as any. What do you say, Bob?"

"I reckon it is. To try to follow them under the circumstances would be mere guess work unless we can find some clue on the outside."

"That's a mighty good idea. I never thought of that," Jack said. "Let's get at it."

"Better wait till 'nother day," Lucky advised. "Eet geet dark time we geet back now an' we got nothin' eat."

So, after a little discussion it was decided that they would go back to the camp and come again early in the morning and hunt all day if necessary for a clue.

CHAPTER X.

THE ESKIMO.

"Now I reckon we'll need all the woodcraft we ever learned."

The sun was not yet up although it was after ten o'clock and they were once more standing in front of the cabin. The night before they had seriously considered the plan of moving all their stuff into the cabin and making it their headquarters, but Lucky had not been in favor of it, pointing out that they would have to build a fire in the stove and that the smoke would betray their presence in case the man should return. So the final vote had been against it.

It was Bob who made the above statement and both Jack and the Indian readily agreed with him.

"Which way do you think they most likely went?" Jack asked looking first at Bob and then at Lucky.

"North, I should say," Bob replied and Lucky nodded agreement. "You see, if they had gone south we would probably have run into them or at least heard from them from someone who did," he explained.

"Then I reckon we'd better hunt up that way first," Jack proposed.

Both the boys, having spent a good part of their lives in the great woods of Northern Maine, were very expert in reading the signs of the forest and, as Jack had more than once declared, the Indian forgot more about such things every night than they ever knew. But in spite of all this several hours of hard searching told them next to nothing. To be sure they found plenty of signs which told them that someone had been there not many weeks previous but, as Jack put it, there were altogether too many of them, for they found them not only to the north, but on all other sides as well, and there was absolutely nothing to indicate the direction they had taken when they quit the cabin for the last time.

"Looks like a case of heads you win and tails I lose," Jack said a bit discouragingly as they finally stopped to swallow the lunch they had brought with them.

"Don't quite see the connection," Bob told him.

"Gray matter working a bit sluggishly today?"

"Maybe."

"Well, if we stay here we're not likely to find them and if we don't we're not."

"Don't what?"

"Don't stay here."

"Oh. Well, your comparison is very poor. In fact it is not applicable to the case in hand at all."

"Which may or may not be a matter of opinion," Jack grinned good naturedly.

"Leesten."

The Indian suddenly held up his hand.

"Someone's coming," Bob declared a moment later.

"Queek, we geet out sight."

They were only a short distance from the cabin and it was but a moment's work to gather up the remains of their lunch and slip around to the other side of it.

"But they'll see our tracks," Jack said.

"Of course, but we can't help that," Bob told him.

It was but a few moments before they heard a loud voice calling on a team of dogs to stop and Lucky whispered:

"Eet Eskimo."

"Then we might as well show ourselves," Jack suggested.

They at once stepped out from behind the cabin, the Indian in the lead, and saw that he had been right in his estimate of the nationality of the stranger. He was a short fat man completely swathed in furs and was accompanied by a team of four dogs with an nearly empty sled. He was busily engaged in examining their tracks and they were within a few feet of him before he was aware of their presence.

"How," Lucky said pleasantly as the man looked up.

"Ugh."

It was a grunt, but whether meant to be pleasant or hostile the boys were unable to tell.

"Where you come?"

The Eskimo shook his head evidently not understanding the question.

The Indian repeated the question this time in French, but he again shook his head at the same time saying something in a language entirely new to the boys. But Lucky understood him for he immediately answered in the same language, and, for several minutes they carried on a spirited conversation helped along by many eloquent gestures on the part of the stranger.

"Heem say heem live three hundred mile nor' of here," Lucky told them when the man stopped for a moment.

"Ask him if he's seen the men we're after," Bob suggested.

"Injun asked an' heem say oui, heem seen 'em."

"Where?"

"'Bout hundred mile nor'."

"How long ago?" Bob asked eagerly.

"Three day. Heem say dey got leetle camp on Colville River."

"Have you ever been there?" Jack asked.

"Noo, Injun no go nor' more dan leetle way more."

"Ask him if he'll be our guest for the night," Bob directed.

"Heem say oui," Lucky announced as soon as he had given the invitation and received his answer.

"Then I reckon we might as well be getting back to camp."

"Oui, we go."

They arrived back at camp just as it was getting dark and Lucky directed the stranger to make himself at home. The Eskimo took in the location of the camp at a glance and then drove his dogs to a thicket a few yards away where he quickly located them for the night.

"Heem no dare put heem dog near ours, fear dem fight," Lucky explained.

"He seems to be a sort of a grouch," Jack declared a little later as he noted how the stranger persisted in keeping much to himself.

"Probably he's bashful," Bob smiled.

But his shyness vanished quickly as soon as supper was ready and he ate with great relish the food which Lucky heaped on his plate.

"Too bad we haven't any candles to offer him," Jack laughed.

"He seems to be doing very well as it is," Bob laughed back.

"I'd hate to have him for a steady boarder."

When it came time to turn in, Lucky, at Bob's suggestion, offered the Eskimo a place in the tepee, but he declined on the ground that it would be too warm.

"Heem say heem sleep out door, geet plenty air."

At Bob's suggestion the Indian had questioned the man further regarding the two men they were hunting, but it seemed that he knew no more than he had told them at first. He had seen them as he came by, but had stopped only to pass the time of day.

Shortly after six o'clock the following morning, Bob awoke with a strange sense of impending disaster. Had he heard someone prowling about in the night or had he only dreamed if? Careful not to disturb the others, who were still sleeping, he wiggled out of his bag and crept noiselessly outside. For a moment he stood gazing into the North where streamer after streamer sent an almost dazzling light far up into the heavens.

"I never saw such a display of the Northern Lights," he murmured as he gazed at the scene at most spellbound.

The fire was burning low only a few embers showing a dim light, but it was not dark and he could see plainly for some distance. There was no sign of their guest and he concluded that he must have slept over near his dogs. Moving quietly he made his way toward the thicket stopping every few feet to listen. He did not want the man to suspect that he was spying on him, but some inner sense told him that all was not well. And a moment later his suspicions were strengthened when he found that both man and team were gone.

"It's strange," he thought as he looked at the place where they had huddled together.

Then he turned and ran quickly over behind the tepee where their stores were packed on the sled. And now his suspicions were confirmed. He had heard someone prowling behind the tepee during the night and he was disgusted with himself that he had not awakened sufficiently to make an investigation. Their stores had been rifled and, it seemed to him, the greater part of them were gone.

"Jack! Lucky!" he yelled.

There was no answer and he yelled again this time louder, and was rewarded by a "huh" from Jack.

"Get out here and make it snappy."

"Where's the fire?" Jack asked sleepily a moment later as he poked his head out of the tepee.

"He's gone."

"Who's gone?"

"That Eskimo."

"Well, why make such a fuss over a little thing like that?" Jack was out of the tepee with the Indian close behind him.

"Take a look here and you'll know," Bob snapped.

"The—the,"

"All that and some more," Bob interrupted.

"To think that he'd steal our food," Jack gasped.

"Heem one beeg thief," Lucky added.

"But we've got to have those things back. He's taken nearly everything we had," Bob declared after he had investigated a moment.

"Injun go geet heem."

"And we'll go with you," Jack added.

"Non," Lucky shook his head. "Injun go faster heemself."

"You'll take the dogs?" Bob asked without arguing the point for he knew Lucky was right. They were no match for him when it came to speed.

"Oui. Tak' dog, bring back stuff." The Indian was already hurrying toward the dog shed and in less than five minutes he was ready to start.

"You stay here till I come bac'," he ordered as he gave the order to mush.

"How long do you expect to be gone?" Bob shouted after him.

"No can tell. Be bac' as queek as can."

"And I hope it will be soon," Bob said turning to Jack. "I'll be mighty uneasy until he returns."

"Same here. There was something about that guy that I didn't like a little bit. He had a bad eye."

"Also a bad disposition."

"Well, I hope Lucky gets him and gets the stuff back. It'll be very inconvenient for us to say the least if he doesn't."

"He'll do it if anyone could, and I don't imagine it will take him very long to catch up with him as our dogs are well rested and his must be tired."

"Not so very tired either. Remember he's been traveling light."

"That's true too. I wonder how long he's been gone."

"That's hard to say. And, by the way, it's kind of strange that none of us heard him."

"I did," Bob told him.

"You did? Well, why in the name of common sense, didn't you stop him or do something?" Jack demanded.

"Well, you see, I didn't get awake enough to really know that I had heard anything. I remember wondering if I had really heard it or had just dreamed it. It's too bad, of course, but there's no use crying over spilled milk."

"Don't think I was blaming you, old man," Jack hastened to assure him. "It wasn't your fault. But I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat if he's left us anything at all."