CHAPTER XI.

LUCKY BRINGS BACK THE "BACON."

Although Bob had tried hard to conceal his fears he had been much worried since Lucky had left them. To be sure he had unbounded confidence in the Indian, but he also realized that he was not infallible and he had little doubt regarding the character of the Eskimo who had stolen their food. Any man who would do a thing of that sort would not be likely to hesitate at even murder were his safety threatened. Should anything happen to prevent his return they would be in a pretty desperate situation especially now that Jack was helpless.

These thoughts filled his mind as he started off, but he whistled a merry tune until he knew he was out of hearing.

"I do hope he'll be back when I return," he said half aloud.

He found the packs of meat as he had left them and decided to leave one where it was as he was, in spite of his assurance in Jack's presence, pretty tired and fifty pounds was about all he cared to lug back under the circumstances.

"The rest'll be safe enough," he thought as he slung the pack to his back.

Although it was not yet three o'clock when he stumbled into camp, tired through and through, darkness had fallen. He had started whistling as soon as he knew that he was in hearing distance and Jack's voice, as he shouted a welcome, assured him that all was well so far as he was concerned.

"Lucky's not back yet," he said as he swung the pack to the ground and entered the tepee.

"Not yet."

"Oh, well, he's likely to come any minute now," he said trying to speak cheerfully. "How's the foot?"

"The patient is doing as well as could be expected."

"Hurt much?"

"Not much. But you must be about played out."

"Not so you'd notice it. Think you can masticate a good juicy steak?"

"Lead me to it, or rather lead it to me."

There was still a good bed of coals and in a very few minutes Bob had a huge steak sizzling in the frying pan.

"Thank goodness he didn't take both bags of salt," he said to himself as he found a small sack of the precious material which the thief had overlooked. "Now, if he'd only left us a few spuds it wouldn't be so bad, but perhaps Lucky'll be back with them by the time the steak's ready."

But he was not and they had to eat it straight, as Jack put it. However hunger is an excellent sauce and the thick juicy steak, cooked to a turn, went down with no urging.

"Best thing I ever tasted," Jack declared after he had eaten all he could manage.

"Not half bad, but I do wish Lucky'd come."

"If wishes were horses, you know," Jack quoted.

"Yes, I know. But he ought to be getting along."

Although Jack objected strenuously Bob insisted on giving the ankle another hot water treatment and it was close to six o'clock when he had finished, and the Indian had not returned.

"Something's gone wrong with Lucky," Jack declared.

"I hardly think so. You see, there's no telling how far he had to chase him and you know Lucky."

"And we don't know that Eskimo. There's the rub."

"But—"

"Honest Injun, now, aren't you worried?"

"Sure I am, but I honestly think he'll come back all right."

"How long do you think this old ankle will lay me up?"

"A week maybe."

"A week, your grandmother's eye. Bet you I walk on it tomorrow."

"Maybe, but I doubt it."

During the past half hour Bob had been conscious that the wind was rising steadily and the fact caused him no little uneasiness. If they should have another blizzard before the Indian returned it would make their lot doubly hard. As he went outside to replenish the fire he cast an anxious eye upward and his fears were increased when he was unable to see any stars.

"I believe it's going to snow again," he muttered as he threw a big log on the fire.

As he again looked up a flake of snow struck his face and he turned back and entered the tepee with a sinking heart.

"How's the weather?" Jack asked.

"Not so good."

"Snowing?"

"Starting a bit."

"I thought that wind sounded like it."

"Perhaps it won't amount to anything."

"Storms usually don't up here," Jack said sarcastically.

"But this one may be an exception."

"Maybe. But, honest Injun, Bob, we're in rather a bad fix, don't you think?"

"Bad, but not desperate. We've got food enough, thanks to that buck, to last a good while so we won't starve and, thank goodness, we had sense enough to keep our ammunition in the tepee so he didn't get away with that. I don't see that we're in any great danger."

"Well, you'd better put that light out. All the oil we have left is in those two lanterns."

Bob blew out the light and for a long time they sat in the darkness and talked. The temperature had risen during the past few hours and the heat reflected from the fire, which Bob kept going, made it very comfortable in the snug tepee. Each did his best to appear cheerful but each knew that the other was far more anxious that he let on. While they knew that they were in no great danger the thought that their friend might be lying dead or wounded somewhere out in the storm made the situation almost unbearable. Several times Bob had been out to replenish the fire and each time he reported that it was snowing. To be sure the storm had not as yet reached the height of a blizzard, but each time he went out he realized that the wind was stronger and the snow was coming down faster.

"It's ten o'clock," he announced. "Shall we hit the hay?"

"Might's well I reckon. He won't be back tonight."

Bob lit the lantern and helped Jack get into his sleeping bag. Then he went out and fixed the fire so that it would last for several hours.

"It's going to be a blizzard all right," he muttered as he crept back into the tepee and into his sleeping bag.

He blew out the light and for several moments there was silence and each boy knew that the other was in communication with Him who is conscious of the sparrow's fall.

Although very tired it was long before Bob slept. Over and over again he asked himself what could have happened to Lucky, and as often came the thought that it must have been something very serious or he would have returned. He could tell by the sound of Jack's breathing that he was asleep and he was glad. That the storm was increasing in violence he knew and the knowledge that it might last for days added to his worry. Finally he was almost off when the faint, but unmistakable howl of a wolf, far off on the mountain side, brought him wide awake.

"One would think we had trouble enough without that," he thought.

But second thought convinced him that they really had little to fear from wolves. The fire would keep them away and even though they should brave that they had their guns and plenty of ammunition. So he put that thought from his mind and soon was asleep. How long he slept he did not know, but it must have been several hours for he could not see the reflection from the fire as he reached out and pulled aside a branch from one of the thick boughs. The wind was howling with almost demoniacal fury and, as he listened a moment, above the noise of the storm came the dismal howl of a wolf and he knew that the animal must be near.

"Was that a wolf?" Jack cried as he caught hold of Bob's arm.

"Guess so."

"What time is it?"

"Five o'clock," Bob told him after a glance at the luminous dial of his wrist watch.

"Reckon the fire's about out, isn't it?"

"Must be. I'll go out and build it up."

"Think its safe?" Jack asked as another howl reached their ears.

"Sure. They're not that near and I'll take my gun."

"But—"

But Bob was already out of his bag and creeping from the tepee and what Jack said was lost in the fury of the storm. As soon as he was on his feet he saw that only a small bed of coals remained of the fire.

"And the snow would have put them out if it wasn't for the protection of that cliff," he thought as he hurried to where they had piled the supply of wood. "I'll have to get in some more wood tomorrow whatever happens," he muttered as he noted the small amount left.

The fire was so low that it took him some little time to get it to blazing again, but he finally accomplished it with the aid of some light stuff and had turned to get more when an angry snarl caused him to glance over the fire. There, about thirty feet from where he stood, but plainly visible in the light of the fire, was the largest wolf he had ever seen. It was evident that the great beast feared the blaze and dared not approach nearer, but it was also clear that it was loath to retreat. So it stood there baring its cruel fangs and uttering snarl after snarl.

Bob had stood his rifle against a tree only three or four feet from where he was and in another instant it was in his hand and he was pressing the trigger. Had it been daylight it would have been an easy shot but the flickering fire must have disturbed his aim for the wolf, with an angry snarl, either of rage or pain, he was not sure which, turned and bounded off into the forest.

"Missed him," Bob groaned in disgust.

"Did you get him?"

He barely caught the words.

"No, I missed him, but he's gone."

"Hurry up, he may be back."

"There's no danger. I'll be in in a minute."

But it was some time before he had the fire going to his satisfaction and he would not leave it before. He could hear, now and then, the snarl or howl of the beasts and knew that there must be quite a number of them around but, although he kept close watch, he saw no more and, finally, he crept back into the tepee.

"Many of them?" Jack asked anxiously.

"There's a few, but the fire'll keep them off."

"How'd you miss?"

"Reckon the fire threw my aim off. It was a good shot."

"Didn't you hit him at all?"

"I don't know. He sounded as though he was kinder disappointed."

"Probably had his mind made up for a good meal," Jack chuckled.

"Well, he isn't going to get it off us," Bob assured him.

"You go to sleep and I'll wake you if there's any need."

"What's the matter with the other way around?"

"No, you need it and I don't. You've been doing all the work and may have to do it all for a day or two longer if this bum ankle of mine gets to cutting up."

"How does it feel?"

"Pretty good. But will you do as I say?"

"I would if I could, but the sleep's all knocked out of me and I couldn't go to sleep if my life depended on it."

"All right then, we'll talk."

"You'd better sleep."

"Couldn't do it."

"You mean it?"

"Sure do. I'm not a bit sleepy."

"All right, I'll be glad of your company."

"How's the storm?"

"It's still snowing."

"Hard as ever?"

"I'm afraid so but, to tell the truth, I didn't pay much attention to it."

"It doesn't seem to be blowing quite so hard."

When Bob's watch told him it was seven o'clock he declared that he was going to get breakfast wolves or no wolves.

"I haven't heard them for the last half hour and they've probably gone," he told Jack.

The wind was still blowing a gale and the snow was driving with unbated fury outside, but within the fringe of trees it was not so bad and, after he had replenished the fire with almost the last of the wood, he got the meat from where he had hung it in a tree and cut off two thick steaks. Then he melted some snow and mixed up a batch of flapjacks with the water as the condensed milk was all gone.

"Venison steak and flapjacks," he announced a half hour later as he brought the food in to Jade. "What more could you want?"

"A cup of coffee."

"That would go good, but we'll have to make out without it this morning, I reckon."

After they had eaten, Bob made an examination of the injured ankle and was gratified to find that the swelling had nearly vanished.

"Is it very sore?" he asked.

"Not so very. Let's see if I can stand on it."

"Better wait a bit."

"But—"

"No buts. You'll only injure it if you tax it now."

Jack knew that Bob was speaking the truth and did not press the point.

"Don't you think, Bob, that you ought to go hunt for Lucky?" he asked a little later.

"And leave you here?"

"I'd be all right."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"But the wolves have gone and they're not likely to return very soon."

"Well, I've got to get some more wood in first anyhow, so we won't decide till that's done and perhaps he'll be back then."

The sun would not be up for another two hours or more, but it was not so dark that he felt obliged to wait. But once outside the fringe of trees where the full strength of the storm struck him, he doubted his ability to accomplish his purpose. But he knew that there was plenty of dead wood where they had been working before and it was only a short distance away. At every step he sank nearly to his waist and, before he had gone twenty feet, he decided he had better go back and put on his snow-shoes. Fortunately the wind was directly in his face and he knew that, although it took about all his strength to make headway against it, it would be of great help when it came to dragging the wood back.

"I'd never be able to drag much of a stick against this wind," he muttered.

He remembered a large spruce which had fallen a little to the right of where they had obtained the wood before and which they had not touched and he felt sure that, could he but find it, he could get enough to at least last through the day and the next night.

He located the tree without much trouble and was glad to see that the snow was not quite up to the trunk. This made it comparatively easy to chop off the thick branches and he set to work after standing his rifle, which he had not dared to leave behind, against the butt of the tree. He forced himself to work with exceeding care as he well knew the danger of a slip of the axe under the circumstances and should he cut himself they would be in a plight ten times more serious than at present. When he judged that he had cut as much as he could drag he hastened the butts of the branches together with a piece of rope and, picking up his rifle, started back. It was only a little over a hundred feet back to the fire, but he was all but winded by the time he got there with his load.

"Coming along fine," he shouted sticking his head into the tepee before starting back for a second load.

"How's the storm?" Jack asked.

"Still humming."

"No sign of a let up?"

"Not yet."

While working Bob had been trying to make up his mind what he ought to do. Lucky was undoubtedly in trouble and he felt that he ought to go to his aid in case he could find him. Then, on the other hand, was his duty to his brother. Would it be safe to leave him in his present condition? Suppose the wolves should come back while he was gone and make an attack on him. He shuddered as he thought what might result in case he was not able to keep them off. Then again, suppose something should happen to him and he be unable to get back. Jack would surely die and again a shudder ran through him. It was a situation which sorely taxed his mind, and he was unable to decide where his duty lay.

He had dragged in his third load and was back at the tree and about to start cutting again when he heard a sound which sent the blood racing through his body. At first he thought it was a wolf and then, as it came again, he knew he had been mistaken.

"That's Lightning, or I'm a Dutchman," he cried as he put his hands up to his mouth and gave a loud yell.

The yell was answered almost at once in the welcome tones of Lucky's voice and for an instant Bob raised his eyes and thanked God. Then, grabbing up his rifle, he hastened back and burst through the fringe of trees just as the dog team swept around the farther end.

"Thank God," he cried and the next minute he was hugging the Indian as though he never intended to let him go.

"Whar Jack?" the Indian asked as soon as he could speak.

"I'm in here," Jack called out.

"He sprained his ankle yesterday," Bob explained.

"Dat bad, but I tank Le Bon Dieu you safe."

By this time he was inside the tepee where he received a welcome fully as warm as Bob's.

"Did you get the stuff?" Jack asked after a bit.

"Oui, I geet heem."

"But what made you gone so long?"

"That can wait, Jack," Bob broke in. "Can't you see he's tired and hungry?" Then, turning to the Indian, he said: "Now you lie down here in your bag and I'll see to the dogs and get you something to eat."

But the Indian would not hear to it insisting that he was all right although he acknowledged that he was pretty hungry.

"Then you see to the dogs and I'll get you something to eat. We got a buck yesterday and I reckon you can get outside a good sized steak."

"Oui, I eat heem ver' quick."

Bob had the steak cooking in almost no time and Lucky declared that it was the best thing he had ever eaten. As soon as he had finished they went inside the tepee where Jack was waiting impatiently.

"Thought you'd never come," he growled.

"Now, Lucky, tell us all about it."

"Oui, Injun tell. Injun geet up with heem leetle past noon. Heem goin' ver' fast, but Injun's dog heem go faster, oui. Heem no hear me till I geet most up to heem. Then heem see an' mak' to draw gun, but Injun have gun out an' Injun tell heem hand up or heem geet keel queek.

"And I'll bet he put 'em up in a hurry," Jack said as Lucky paused.

"Oui, heem put um up."

"Then what?" Bob asked as he paused again.

"Injun come close an' mak' heem put stuff back on sled. Heem ver' mad' an' watch ver' close chance to geet—what you call um—drop, but heem no geet."

"I'll bet he didn't."

"Keep still and let him tell the story," Bob ordered.

"When heem stuff all put on my sled Injun tell heem start off ver' queek. Tell heem no look back an heem ver' glad go heem see heem no geet drop on Injun. Injun watch heem till heem geet long ways off an' then Injun turn heem dog around an' we start back."

"What time was that?" Bob asked.

"Now, who's interrupting?" Jack demanded.

"Eet 'bout ein o'clock. All go bon till we geet most half way back an' then that Slack dog heem geet seek, ver' seek, an' we have stop. Injun no know what matter with dog. Heem act like heem got belly ache ver' bad. Got no medicine so have to rub heem belly ver' long time an' tink mebby heem goin' die. Injun no want dog die, dey too bon dog. So keep on rubbin' an' when eet begin geet dark dog begin geet better, but heem still some seek. So put heem on sled an' start, but een leetle while Pete dog heem geet seek and have stop rub heem long time. When heem geet better have go ver' slow an' begin snow, have go slow some more. No geet here till leetle while ago. But Injun geet here."

"You bet you did," Jack burst out.

"How ankle? Heem ver' bad?"

"It's coming along fine now. Reckon I can walk on it tomorrow."

"I'm not so sure about that," Bob said with a shake of his head.

"How long's this storm going to last, Lucky?" Jack asked.

"No can tell. Mebby not ver' long."

"I don't see why it doesn't make a continuous performance of it and be done with it. Then one would know what to expect," Jack growled.

"Don't be pessimistic," Bob advised. "Now that Lucky's back we can stand a little snow, I reckon."

"A little, yes, but who said anything about a little?"

"Well, a lot then."

"That's a lot better."

"You no walk on that foot tomorrow I tink."

"But I could ride for awhile and we could go slow."

"Mebby, eef snow not too mooch. We see mornin' heem come."

It seemed good to have a variety of food once more and they made a bit of a feast of the dinner opening a number of things which they had been saving for some special occasion. In the short afternoon they cut some more wood and dragged it in and as darkness was falling the storm showed signs of breaking.

"Eet be bon day tomorrow," Lucky announced while they were eating supper.

"Then we'll be off," Jack declared.

"Mebby, see how um foot be in morning."

CHAPTER XII.

VISITORS.

As Lucky had predicted the storm blew itself out during the night and the stars were shining in a clear sky when they ate breakfast shortly after seven o'clock.

"How um foot feel?" Lucky asked when the meal was over.

"Fine's a fiddle," Jack assured him and to convince him that he was telling the truth he took a few steps with only a slight limp.

"You no can walk on foot today. Mebby tomorrow, oui."

"Sure I can. Why it doesn't hurt hardly any."

"Lucky's right, old man, and you know it. As long as it hurts at all it would be foolish to think of trying to walk on snow-shoes," Bob added.

"But couldn't I ride on the sled?" Jack asked.

"No can do. Too mooch snow mak' eet too hard for dog. Eet keel um."

"Well, of course, I don't want to do anything like that, but I sure do hate to be wasting time here. By the time we get up there we'll probably find they've left for the North Pole."

"Then it'll be the North Pole for us," Bob chuckled.

During the day Jack growled off and on at the enforced delay although he knew that the Indian was quite right. But the ankle was improving rapidly, thanks to Bob's treatment, and he was resolved that it should not keep them from starting out the next morning.

The next morning came at last and, although the Indian shook his head and Bob advised waiting over another day, Jack insisted that the ankle would stand it and, against their better judgment, they finally gave in.

"You no keep on that ankle heem hurt," Lucky ordered as, shortly after eight o'clock, they were all ready to go. "That ankle heem no strong an' you hurt heem some more mebby you no use heem again for ver' long time."

The weather had continued warmer than was usual and the snow, which had been heavy when it fell, had settled rapidly and was so well packed in most places that the dogs sank in but a little and the sled hardly at all.

"Eet ver' bon snow-shoen'," Lucky said after they were fairly on the way.

"You bet," Bob replied. Then, turning to Jack, he asked: "Does that ankle hurt any?"

"Nothing to speak of," Jack assured him. "Of course, I know I've got one."

"You tak' heem easy. I tink snow packed 'nough so you can ride some on sled when you geet tired," Lucky told him.

"I'll let you know when I want to ride," Jack assured them.

The Indian had set a slow pace, knowing that Jack would not be able to maintain a fast one for any length of time, and it was nearly ten o'clock when they reached the scene of the accident and retrieved the meat which Bob had cached there.

Lucky had estimated that they had made about twenty-five miles when they stopped for the night shortly after five o'clock. It had been dark for several hours, but not dark enough to prevent them from traveling. Jack had rode a good part of the way although he had protested strongly every time Lucky or Bob had proposed it, and his ankle was in fairly good shape although he confessed that "it didn't feel as good as new."

"But another night's rest will fix it all right," he assured them.

All day their way had led through the defile between the two ranges of mountains and, for the most part, they had been ascending although at no time had the way been at all steep. They were off to an early start the next morning resolved to make a long day of it, provided Jack's ankle permitted, and when the sun showed itself over the top of the mountain, Lucky declared they had covered not less than fifteen miles. Jack had walked nearly all the time, resorting to the sled only a couple of times and then only for short distances.

Shortly after noon they emerged from the defile and found, stretching out before them and sloping gently downward, an unbroken waste of snow reaching as far as they could see.

"Great Scott!" Bob burst out. "How are we ever going to keep a straight course across all that?"

"We ought to have a compass," Jack added.

"Mebby heem not so far heem look," Lucky told them. "Eet ver' what you call hazy. Mebby not ver' far 'cross."

"Here's hoping," Bob told him.

His hope was realized for just as it was beginning to get dark they sighted a thick growth of trees and in another hour they were once more traveling through woods.

"Are you sure we're on the right trail, Lucky?" Bob asked anxiously.

"Oui. I tink so. Eskimo heem tell me whar go."

"But how do you know that he was telling the truth. Any man who would do what he did wouldn't hesitate to lie."

"Mebby heem lie."

"Well, I suppose the only way to find out is to keep on."

"Oui, that only way."

How the Indian could keep anything like a straight course through the deep forest, in which they were now traveling, and where he had never been before, was a mystery to the boys. But he never hesitated as he led the way and they knew they were making good time. It was about half past five when he finally called a halt for the night and both boys were glad to hear the order, Jack especially as his ankle, which was still far from being strong, had been giving him considerable pain during the last hour.

"We mak' eet tomorrow, mebby," Lucky told them as he set about making the dogs comfortable for the night.

The temperature had been falling ever since morning and now the mercury in their thermometer stood thirty degrees below zero and was still falling.

"It's going to be a bit cold around the edges tonight," Bob declared as he took the axe and started to hunt for firewood.

"Bet she'll go to forty," Jack agreed.

"How cold you ever know it to get up here, Lucky?" he asked a little later as they were sitting around the fire eating supper.

"'Bout feefty-five, mebby seexty."

"Well, I hope it doesn't break that record while we're up here," Bob laughed.

They reached Colville River soon after dark the following day and made camp in a thick clump of trees close to the bank.

"Wonder if there's any fish in this river?" Jack asked.

"I 'spect um thar, but you find eet plenty hard work cut hole een ice," Lucky told him.

"Do you fellows want some fresh fish for supper enough to do the work here while I'm trying to get some?"

"Go to it," Bob told him.

If he had realized what it meant to get a hole through the ice it is doubtful if Jack would have proposed fish for supper, but once started he was resolved not to give up. But it was all of an hour and a half from the time he started before he was ready to drop in his line. However he felt amply repaid when he carried six good sized salmon back to camp.

"You got 'em," Bob greeted him.

"Sure did, but I thought I'd hit the bottom of the river before I struck water," Jack told him.

"How thick is the ice?"

"Must be nearly three feet and there's about four feet of snow on top of that."

"Well, you ought to have a medal."

The fish proved a very welcome addition to their rations and they had a good, if a rather late, supper.

"Do we go up or down from here?" Bob asked a little later.

"Up," Lucky replied.

"But have you any idea how far from here they are?"

"Not mooch. That man heem say only leetle way from whar we strike river."

"Then we ought to find them tomorrow?"

"Mebby. No can tell."

Lucky and Bob had dug a hole in the snow and had covered the bottom with an extra thick layer of spruce boughs as the night bid fair to be the coldest they had yet encountered. The sleeping room, as Jack dubbed it, was long enough to permit a good sized fire to be built at one end and, as the walls were nearly five feet high, it was really cozy by the time they were ready to turn in.

"Forty-eight below," Bob announced as he glanced at the thermometer just before crawling into his bag.

"I should worry," Jack, who had been "in bed" for some moments, chuckled.

Jack was a sound sleeper and seldom awoke during the night unless disturbed. But this night it seemed to him that he had hardly fallen asleep when he awoke with a sudden start. For a moment he lay wondering what had happened. He could hear Bob breathing steadily on one side of him while the Indian was snoring quietly on the other, and knew they were both sleeping. The fire had died down to a bed of coals by which he knew that he had been asleep for some hours at least. He was about to shut his eyes again, convinced that he had awakened without cause, when a low threatening growl reached his ears.

"That's Lightning," he thought as he strained his ears again.

For some moments he heard no other sound and drowsiness was stealing over him when the sharp snap of a twig brought him wide awake. Reaching over he touched his brother lightly.

"S-s-s-s-h. Listen," he whispered.

"What is it?" Bob breathed.

"There's something or someone out there."

"I don't hear a thing," Bob whispered.

"Listen."

"I hear it now," as another twig snapped, answered by an angry snarl from one of the dogs which awoke Lucky.

"What matter with dog?" he whispered as soon as he saw that the boys were awake.

"There's something prowling around the camp," Bob told him.

"Injun go see."

"Reckon we'd better all go," Bob said as he began to squirm out of his bag.

There was only a small rim of the moon showing, but the sky was filled with stars and it was not dark. In fact Bob could see for some distance through the woods as he carefully raised his eyes over the edge of the snow. At first he saw nothing to cause him any alarm, but after a moment of watching he caught sight of a shadowy form stealing from behind a large tree about thirty feet away to the security of another some ten feet nearer.

"It's a man," he whispered. "And there's another and another," he added a moment later.

The dogs were now growling almost continually.

"What'll we do?" Jack whispered.

"We wait, see what um do," Lucky whispered back.

"How many have you seen?"

"Six so far," Bob whispered, and a moment later added: "They're working around where the dogs are."

"That no go," Lucky growled. "Mebby um keel dog."

As he spoke the Indian leaped to the edge of the snow and shouted:

"Who you, eh?"

For a moment there was silence broken only by the snarls of the dogs, then, from behind a tree, only about ten feet from where he stood, stepped a man. The boys could see that it was a man of large frame standing well over six feet, but it was not light enough to guess at his nationality until he spoke.

"Who you?"

"He's a breed," Bob whispered in Jack's ear.

"What you want in night here?" Lucky snapped the question in a tone they had never before heard him use.

"You name Lareux?" the man asked ignoring Lucky's question.

"Non."

"What ees eet?"

"Hogan, Lucky Hogan."

"Dat sound Irish. You Irish? You no talk Irish."

"No Irish. Me Injun."

"Your name Irish, you talk lik' breed an' say you Injun. Eet too mooch. You step out here whar I geet good look. You try funny beesness an' my man heem shoot."

For an moment Lucky hesitated as though trying to make up his mind whether or not to obey the order.

"Go ahead, Lucky," Bob whispered. "I've got him covered."

"My man heem got you on de sight," Lucky said as he took a few steps forward in the deep snow.

The other, who was on snow-shoes, advanced to meet him and in a moment they were close together. The stranger carried a rifle, but he bore it over his shoulder as though he had no idea of using it at present. On his snow-shoes he towered nearly two feet above Lucky.

"You no Lareux," the boys heard him say.

"Who heem?" Lucky asked.

"Heem ver' bad mans. Heem keel one of my mans an' we hunt heem."

"When heem keel heem?"

"Tree, mebby four day ago," the stranger answered somewhat evasively Bob thought.

"Where you leeve, eh?" Lucky asked after a pause of a moment.

"Up nor'."

"How far?"

"What for you ask question so mooch?" It was plain that the man was rapidly loosening his patience of which he probably had no great store.

"You ask first," Lucky told him pleasantly.

"Dat my beesness."

"Mine too."

"How many mans you got?"

"Some. How many you?"

"You see some man yes'day?" the stranger next asked without replying to the question.

"Non."

"Day 'fore dat?"

"Non."

"All right. We go now. You no man we want."

He turned and stole silently back into the forest and the boys could see others slipping from behind trees and following him.

"What do you make of it?" Bob asked as soon as the Indian was back in the "bed room."

For a moment Lucky hesitated.

"Injun no like dat man," he finally said.

"You think he's no good?"

"Mebby. Injun tink heem—what you call heem?—one beeg bluff."

"You mean you think he was after us and not that man he mentioned?"

"Oui."

"Then why did he leave?"

"Heem heap big coward. Heem no know how many here."

"You think he'll come back?"

"Mebby. No can tell."

"Well, it's after three o'clock now. I reckon we'd better keep an eye open, eh?"

"Injun watch. White boys go sleep."

But both declared they had had enough sleep and could not go to sleep again anyway, so they built up the fire and, for the next two hours the Indian entertained them with his stories of which he seemed to have an inexhaustable supply. But every few minutes one or the other would get up and take a look around, not that they thought it at all likely that they would return so soon, but they wanted to be on the safe side.

"How about eats?" Bob asked when his watch told him that it was nearly six o'clock.

"You wait leetle minute," Lucky said as he got to his feet.

"What you going to do?" Bob asked.

"Injun scout 'round leetle 'fore we geet eats. Mebby they hide somewhere, take shot, oui."

"You'll be careful?"

"Oui. Injun look out ver' queek."

While talking the Indian had jumped out of the hole and was fastening on his snow-shoes.

"You no geet out till Injun come back," he ordered.

"You're the boss," Jack told him and the next moment he was gone.

"Hope he isn't gone long," Bob said as he sat down again.

"He seems to think of everything," Jack said. "You and I would have gone right out and started breakfast and made a fine target of ourselves without giving it a thought."

"Perhaps."

"Probably."

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps what?" Jack snapped.

"Perhaps, probably," Bob laughed and Jack joined in.

A half hour passed and they were beginning to get uneasy when the Indian returned.

"All gone," he announced.

"Good. Now we can get something to eat and, believe me, I'm about starved."

"Same here," Jack added.

"Now we got be mighty careful," Lucky cautioned as they were about to start off up the river an hour later.

"You think they may be coming back?" Bob asked.

"No can tell. We—what you call heem?—play heem safe."

"You bet," Jack declared. "That's my motto, 'play safe'."

"Since when?" Bob asked.

"Since—since—well, since I got a good look at that half-breed," Jack stammered.

"I thought it was of recent origin."

They had intended to travel on the river as it was much easier than through the woods, but Lucky told them it would be safer to keep to the woods declaring that they would make altogether too good a mark out in the open.

"Injun goin' keep leetle way ahead an' white boys follow heem track. No can geet lost."

"No, but you can get shot," Bob said soberly.

"Injun no geet shot. Injun got eyes."

"I'll say you have," Jack testified.

When all was ready the Indian ordered them to give him a start of five minutes and then to come on with the team. Both boys had, during the trip, taken turns at driving the dogs and, although they still lacked much of Lucky's skill, they could manage very well. The Indian took a course nearer the river than that taken by their visitors of the night so they had no trouble in following his tracks.

"Hope he don't get too far away," Bob said as he gave the order to mush.

They had been on the way a little over an hour when, suddenly, the sound of a rifle shot broke the silence of the forest.

"What's that?" Bob cried as he ordered the dogs to halt.

"There's no doubt about what it was," Jack answered. "The big question is why?"

"Was it Lucky's rifle, do you think?"

"Don't know."

They listened for a moment or two but there was no other shot.

"Maybe he shot at a deer or something," Jack suggested.

"If he did he'll be coming back in a minute because he'll know we won't know what to make of it."

"Well, if he doesn't show up pretty soon I'm going on. Perhaps he's in trouble."

"We'll wait five minutes," Bob said glancing at his watch.

The five minutes were just up when they caught sight of the Indian coming toward them at a rapid lope.

"What's up?" Bob asked.

"Did you shoot?" Jack asked.

"No shoot, geet shoot at," he told them.

"One of those fellows?" Bob asked.

"Injun 'spect so, no see um."

"Tell us about it," Jack said as Lucky paused.

"Not mooch tell. Injun go 'long like when bang go gun, but no geet heet, so come back."

"Well, what'll we do?" Bob asked.

"Do you think he meant to hit you?" Jack asked before the Indian could reply to Bob's question.

"Tink heem mean scare Injun. No hear bullet."

"Then I move we go on. I don't belive they intend to kill us and anyhow they can do it about as well in one place as another up here if that's what they are after."

"What do you think, Lucky?" Bob asked.

"We run dey catch us, we stay here dey find us yer' queek. Mebby we go on."

But as it happened it was not left for them to decide for just then another shot rang out followed by the thud of a bullet as it buried itself in the trunk of a tree over Jack's head.

"Hey, what's the big idea?" he shouted.

In answer to the question a man, whom they all recognized as their visitor of the night before, stepped out from behind a tree about thirty feet away. Instantly Bob had him covered with his rifle.

"No shoot," the man cried.

"Why not?" Bob demanded. "You've had two shots at us."

"No shoot to hit."

"Well, that last one was a bit too close for comfort," Bob told him still keeping his rifle leveled.

"My mans all 'round you. You shoot we keel all."

"That's different." Bob lowered his gun as he had little doubt, but that the man was speaking the truth. "What do you want with us?" he demanded.

Instead of replying to the question the breed stepped forward after giving a shrill whistle. Then they saw that he had indeed spoken the truth for instantly, from all sides, five other men stepped from behind the trees and came toward them.

"Some reception," Jack whispered.

"You come wid us," the big man ordered as he motioned to his men to start north.

"What's the idea?" Jack asked.

"Huh?" The man snapped.

"I mean what are you going to do with us?"

"You find dat out later."

"But I want to know now."

Jack was never one to be bossed unless the one who did it had a good right and he was mad clear through.

"No geet heem mad now," Lucky whispered and taking the hint, Jack added:

"All right, have it your own way. I reckon you're the doctor."

"Huh?"

"I said you're the big boss."

"Oui, me boss." It was clear that the man was pleased with the acknowledgment. "You do what me say no geet hurt. Try funny beesness an' you better not."

"I reckon you're right," Jack assured him.

He ordered them to follow after his men and he brought up the rear keeping a few yards behind them.

"What do you make of it, Bob?" Jack whispered after they had gone a short distance.

"Haven't an idea, but we'll probably find out sooner or later."

"I reckon."

They noted that they were traveling in a direction which made an angle of some forty-five degrees with the river and the way was up a gentle rise for more than an hour.

Suddenly, when they were nearly to the top of the hill, a large but low log cabin loomed up ahead.

"Guess we're there," Bob said in a low tone.

"You mean here, don't you?"

"It's all the same."

The five men, all breeds, were standing about the door, as they came up, as if awaiting further orders from their leader. He spoke some words to them, in a French dialect, which the boys, although they were fairly conversant with the language, failed to understand, but it was evidently an order for one of them to show the Indian where he was to stable the dogs. The man motioned for Lucky to follow him around back of the cabin and, without a word, he drove the team after him. The leader pushed open the door and, after slipping off his snow-shoes, told the boys to enter.

The cabin was roughly but almost luxuriantly furnished and consisted of at least two rooms. The front room, in which they found themselves, contained a large massive table in the center and a half dozen roughly built, but comfortable easy chairs, four of them being rockers. A huge fireplace occupied nearly the whole of one end while the side away from the door was lined with bunks. Several bear and deer skins were on the floor and above the fireplace an enormous moose head was fastened to the logs, the antlers touching the top of the room. Many skins of different animals adorned the walls. Altogether it was a most homelike appearing room and, for a moment, the boys gazed about spellbound.

"Nice place you have here," Jack finally declared.

"Oui, eet ver' bon," their host replied evidently pleased with the praise.

"Did you build it?" Bob asked.

"Non, me no build heem."

"Bought it, eh?"

"Non, no buy heem."

Evidently the man did not intend to enlighten them as to the means by which he had secured possession of the cabin and Bob quickly decided that it would not be wise to press the matter. Instead he asked:

"Are we to consider ourselves prisoners?"

For a moment the man did not answer then, then with a slight shrug of his massive shoulders, he said:

"Mebby."

"What do you mean by that?" Bob demanded.

"You geeve word you no try geet away you no prisoner."

"And if we refuse?"

Again the man shrugged his shoulders. "Den you prisoner, oui."

"Then I reckon we'll have to be prisoners. But what's the idea?"

"Huh?"

"I mean why have you taken us prisoners?"

"You find dat out plenty time."

Before Bob could speak again the door opened and Lucky, followed by the five breeds, entered the room. The Indian seemed as much astonished as had the boys at the room, but they could see that he was trying not to make any show of his astonishment.

"Deese boy no promise not to geet away," the leader said turning to Lucky. "You mak' 'em promise, oui?"

"Non." The Indian shook his head.

"Den we feex you so you no geet away."

"Mebby."

"For sure, no mebby."

Lucky shrugged his shoulders as much as to say that the incident was closed so far as he was concerned, and the leader turned to one of the men and gave an order.

"You mak' home," he said not unpleasantly turning again to Lucky and the boys who were standing close together. "Dinner be ready een jest leetle while."

Evidently the big living-room served also for the dining-room for the cover, a huge bear skin was removed by one of the breeds and dishes substituted.

"Reckon they don't intend to starve us," Jack whispered a little later as one of the breeds brought in a huge roast of venison and placed it on the table.

"Perhaps they're going to eat and let us look on," Bob suggested.

But in this he was mistaken for, after the table had been loaded with food of many varieties, they were invited to sit up and eat.

"They've got a good chef that's sure," Jack whispered soon after they started eating.

"Both as to quality and quantity," Bob agreed.

Great as was the quantity of food provided it disappeared rapidly before the attack of the half-breeds who ate voraciously and with little regard for table etiquette. There was no conversation except a whispered word now and then between the two boys who sat side by side. The Indian, whether by accident or design they could not tell, had been placed on the other side of the table. Two large logs were blazing in the fireplace and, as Bob looked about the room, he was reminded of the many tales he had read of the old Norsemen and their crude, but rugged civilization. It seemed that history had been turned back a thousand years.

As soon as all had finished eating two of the men began to clear the table while the others, with the exception of the leader, began a game of cards at a smaller table in one of the corners near the fire.

"What you do up here, eh?"

The leader shot the question at them so suddenly that both boys gave a sudden start. Bob cast a questioning glance at Lucky and tried to read in his face whether or not he ought to divulge the object of their trip. But the Indian's face gave no sign and, after a moment's hesitation, he decided that it could do no harm to tell him.