XIX
THE HALF BREED DESERTS
David was vaguely aware of a babel of human voices, and that he wasbeing lifted, and then came a sudden consciousness of warmth,accompanied by the pleasant odor of burning wood.
He attempted to open his eyes, but the effort resulted in such sharppain that he directly closed them again. Dimly, however, he had seenin the brief interval his eyes were open that Andy was by his side,and the dark forms of Indians bending over them, and the blaze of afire. Then he fell into the heavy slumber of complete exhaustion.
With returning consciousness the following day David's first thoughtwas that he was in his bunk in the Namaycush Lake tilt. He could hearthe blizzard still raging outside. Vaguely he felt relieved that thestorm would not permit him and Andy to venture out upon the trails,and that he might rest a little longer, for he was aware of an unusuallassitude and weariness and a desire to remain in bed.
Then there stole upon him the recollection of the terrible struggle inthe blizzard, how Andy had become exhausted, and his own desperateeffort to keep Andy upon his feet and to keep moving himself. Dimly herecalled the faint cloud of fire that had suddenly risen before him inthe darkness at a moment when he felt his strength exhausted and hesank into the snow, and then the sensation of warmth, the vision ofIndians and the echo of voices.
David's senses were awake now, and sitting up he attempted to lookabout him. Faintly, as through a smoke, he saw a fire and an Indianwoman bending over it. Two Indians sat opposite, smoking, and therewere other Indians by the fire. He recognized at once the interior ofan Indian wigwam. Then the pain in his eyes compelled him to closethem again immediately.
"Beeg snow. Mooch bad," said one of the Indians good-naturedly,observing that David was awake.
"Where am I?" asked David.
"Sa-peesh tent," said the Indian.
"Andy! Is Andy all right?" David asked apprehensively.
"Andy sleep mooch," laughed the Indian. "Heem all right."
David was vastly relieved by this assurance. He knew Sa-peesh, the oldMountaineer Indian, well, for Sa-peesh had camped at the post eachsummer for as many years as David could remember, and of all theIndians that came there was the only one who could speak English.
With Sa-peesh's limited command of English, and the few Indian wordsthat David understood, he presently learned that he and Andy hadfallen headlong against the wigwam in the night, that the Indians hadthus discovered and rescued them, and that they were quite welcome toremain until they were sufficiently recovered from exhaustion andsnowblindness to return to the tilts. He also learned that they were aconsiderable distance to the eastward of Namaycush Lake, and haddoubtless traveled up, instead of, as they had supposed, down, theriver.
Satisfied with the assurance that Andy was quite safe, David lay backagain upon the bed of boughs, as there was nothing else to do, and ashe lay there he recounted to himself the happenings of the previousday.
The cloud of fire that had appeared so suddenly before him, then, wasthe Indians' tent, with the firelight filtering through it and hewhispered a little prayer of thanksgiving that God had guided him andAndy to it--and that they had kept their grit. Then he heard amovement by his side, and Andy's voice speaking his name.
"Here I be, Andy!" said David eagerly. "How you feelin'?"
"Not so bad if 'tweren't for th' hurt in my eyes. Where are we, Davy?"asked Andy.
"In Sa-peesh's tent, and away up th' river instead o' down," answeredDavid. "We ran into their tent in th' dark. 'Twas good we kept ourgrit, Andy, or we'd ha' perished before we got here."
"We _did_ keep our grit, now, didn't we Davy, and stout hearts, too?"and there was pride and satisfaction in Andy's voice.
"And now," continued David, "we'll be here a week, _what_ever, beforeth' snowblind leaves us, and then in another fortnight 'twill be timet' strike up th' traps."
"But we made a fine hunt, _what_ever," said Andy.
"That we did!" agreed David. "A fine hunt, now!"
While the boys were talking Mrs. Sa-peesh was dipping generousportions of boiled venison from a kettle that simmered over the fire,and now Sa-peesh interrupted the boys with an invitation to eat,setting before them, at the same time, the dish of venison, two tincups and a kettle of tea. And though they could open their eyes onlyto narrow slits, because of the pain, there was no complaint to bemade with their appetite, and they managed well enough.
And thus, miraculously, David and Andy were rescued, and they weresafe enough, and comfortable enough, too, in the wigwam with Sa-peeshand Mrs. Sa-peesh, and Mesh-tuk (tree), a young Indian who lived withthem and hunted with Sa-peesh, and Amish-ku (beaver) and Ni-pit-se(summer), the two children. A-mish-ku, a lad of twelve, and Ni-pit-se,a maiden of fifteen years, were exceedingly well pleased that theywere to have the companionship of David and Andy for so long, and theychattered to the two boys in their wild Indian tongue, and there wasa deal of sport for all, learning to pronounce each other's strangewords.
* * * * *
It was Saturday evening that week when Indian Jake reached the Narrowstilt, for he too had been delayed by the storm. He was not in theleast astonished or disturbed that the boys did not appear as usual.
"Held up by the storm," said he to himself. "They'll be heretomorrow."
He was somewhat at a loss to account for their non-arrival on Sunday.The storm had continued but two days, and he could think of no goodreason why they should have been delayed longer. He slept not the lesssoundly, however, Sunday night, and on Monday morning as usual set outupon the weekly round of his trail, well satisfied that the boys wouldappear later.
He was mystified, however, upon returning the following Friday, todiscover that David and Andy had not visited the tilt during hisabsence, and still more mystified when they failed to appear eitherthat evening or Saturday evening.
"Something has happened," he said, when it grew so late he was assuredthey would not come. "I'll go over their trail tomorrow and take alook for them."
Accordingly, early on Sunday morning he set out with his long,swinging, rapid stride for the Halfway tilt, and making no pause tovisit traps, and not following the windings of the trail but taking astraight course, reached there a considerable time before midday. Abrief survey was sufficient to satisfy him that the boys had not beenthere for many days, and without halting to prepare his dinner hecontinued to the Namaycush Lake tilt.
It was early afternoon of the long April day when the tilt came intoview, and as he approached it his sharp eyes took in every detail ofthe surroundings. There had been no storm since the blizzard in whichDavid and Andy were lost, and the half-breed was quick to discover notrack of snowshoes.
"Not here since the storm!" he exclaimed.
The boys' toboggan leaned against the tilt outside, and within, thehalf-breed discovered their sleeping bags and other equipment whichthey usually carried with them. He closed the tilt and set out uponthe marsh, but no sign or mark could be found to indicate the coursethey had taken.
"Lost in the storm," he said, turning back after an hour's fruitlesssearch. "No use looking for them any longer. They've perished. They'reburied deep enough under the drifts somewhere, and when the thaw comesthey'll be food for foxes and wolves."
Indian Jake proceeded to kindle a fire in the stove, and, while thekettle was boiling, to examine two marten pelts, which hung from theceiling. These he took down and stuffed into the bosom of his shirt.Then turning his attention to a search for food, he discovered somefat pork and stale camp bread. He sliced some of the pork into afrying pan and placed it upon the stove. Indian Jake was hungry, forhe had eaten nothing since early morning.
When he had disposed of his simple and hastily prepared dinner, thehalf-breed set out upon his return without delay. When night fell thetrail was lighted by a brilliant moon, and he did not stop until nearmidnight, when he reached the Narrows tilt.
Indian Jake kindled a fire, boiled the kettle, and ate a belatedsupp
er. Then he took down a bag suspended from the ceiling, opened it,and drew forth the furs which David and Andy had captured during thewinter.
The pelts were in the condition in which they had been cured, the furside turned in, the fleshy side out, for, as previously explained, inskinning a fur-bearing animal the trapper draws the pelt off whole,necessarily turning it as he draws it down over the head, and it isthen stretched upon a properly shaped board, after which all fat andfleshy adhesions are scraped away.
One by one Indian Jake turned down each pelt sufficiently to examinethe color and texture of the fur, turned it back again, and laid it onthe bunk. Thus he first went over the marten pelts, laying them inthree piles, graded as to value and quality. In the same manner hegraded the fox and mink pelts. There were also four lynx and the threewolf skins. Indian Jake had previously examined every pelt, to besure, but never before with the careful criticism he now displayed.
This done he mentally calculated the value, and uttered a huge gruntof satisfaction.
"Worth five hundred dollars--maybe six hundred--at the Bay, and they'dbring nine hundred in Quebec. Good! One more round o' th' trail, andI'll strike up, and go. Won't be safe t' wait for the break up. Wish Ihad my fur here; I'd go in the mornin'!"
The following morning the half-breed left the tilt at the usual hour,gathering his fur at his tilts as he went, and striking up his trapswhen he had examined them for his week's catch; and on Friday drew histoboggan as usual to the Narrows tilt.
On Saturday Indian Jake assorted his own furs in the same manner inwhich he had previously assorted those of David and Andy.
"Ugh!" he grunted. "Thought I'd tell 'em what I had! Wonder whatthey'd said t' that!"
And he held up to his admiring gaze a beautiful silver fox skin,shaking it briskly as he did so, that all its glossy luster mightappear to advantage.
"Worth six hundred anyhow," he muttered with satisfaction.
Then he drew out another, shook and examined it in like manner.
"Not so good," he said. "Worth four hundred, though, at the Post. Evenif I hadn't got these two silvers, it's the best hunt I ever had.Worth with the silvers about fifteen hundred. And Tom Angus thinkshe'll get a third of it! Ugh!"
The balance of the day was occupied in getting together the things hewished to take with him. The venison had long since been eaten. Therewas some whitefish, taken upon a second fishing excursion, fourrabbits and several partridges. A small amount of flour, salt pork andtea also remained. These he carefully packed. On Sunday morning IndianJake lashed upon his toboggan all of the provisions, a cotton tent, atent stove, his sleeping bag and other equipment, and all the furs.
Snow was falling when the half-breed closed the tilt door, and,hauling his well-laden toboggan, turned southward. Presently the thickfalling flakes closed upon him, and covered his tracks, and no sign ormark remained to indicate in which direction he had gone. The Narrowstilt and the fur trails were now deserted indeed.