CHAPTER VII
The three boys plunged at the man together. He stopped short, and madea motion to lower his rifle; but he was too late. The boys hadfastened on him as wolves fasten on a deer. He uttered a single,stifled cry; then they all went down together in a mass of kickingsnowshoes and struggling limbs. The hunter's efforts were feeble, andthe boys had no trouble in over-powering him. Fred pinioned his arms,and Maurice sat on his legs.
Macgregor peered into the man's face. "Why, this isn't one of thatgang!" he cried.
It had grown almost dark. Fred bent forward to look at the man.
"It's my brother!" he cried. "It's Horace!"
"What? It can't be!" cried Peter and Maurice together. They let gotheir hold on their prisoner in order to look closer.
"I declare, I believe it is!" said Macgregor, stupefied.
It really was Horace Osborne, but he was almost unrecognizable in hismuffling _capote_, long hair, and a three months' growth of beard. Hehad no idea who had thus attacked him, and he was in a towering rage.
"What do you mean by all this? Who are you, anyway?" he exclaimed,sitting up in the snow. Then he looked more closely at his brother,who was trying to say something, inarticulate, half laughing and halfcrying.
"Fred!" he cried, in amazement. "Is that you? What on earth are youdoing here? Who's that with you? Peter Macgregor--and Maurice Stark!"
"We thought you might be dead!" Fred cried, and Peter and Maurice cutin alternately:--
"Heard you were sick with smallpox--"
"Came up to find you--"
"Came in on skates, and--"
"A gang of outlaws turned us out of the cabin--"
"Found your diamonds."
"I don't half understand it all," said Horace, "but I see that youfellows have acted like good friends. We can't get in the cabin, yousay? Well, you've a camp somewhere, haven't you?"
They started for the camp in the snow, and on the way Fred gave hisbrother a somewhat incoherent account of what had taken place.
"You fellows certainly have acted like friends to me--like brothers,rather!" said Horace. "I'll never forget it, boys!"
And he shook hands with them all round.
"Not a bit!" said Maurice, in embarrassment. "We were hoping thatyou'd let us in on the ground floor of a diamond mine. Fred says therewas a whole bagful of diamonds that you had hidden in the cabin. Whatdo you suppose they're worth?"
"If they're all diamonds, perhaps a hundred thousand dollars," repliedHorace.
"Gracious!" gasped Maurice, and said no more.
But Fred's attention had been fixed on the pack that his brothercarried.
"What have you there, Horace?" he asked.
"Grub. Bacon, hardtack, tea, cold boiled beans. Why, I never thoughtof it, but you must all be as hungry as wolves. Well, there's enoughfor a square meal here, anyhow, and to-morrow we'll find some way ofgetting those rascals out of the camp."
They built up the camp-fire, and Horace got out his provisions,together with a couple of partridges he had shot late that afternoon.But Macgregor, as medical adviser, refused to let them eat as much asthey wanted. A little tea and a few mouthfuls of meat were all hepermitted them to have; he promised, however, that they should have afull meal in a couple of hours. He took the same ration himself; butHorace ate heartily.
"But where have you been since you left the cabin?" Fred asked.
"At a lumber camp on the Abitibi, about forty miles from here," Horacereplied. "I've been convalescing."
"If we'd only known that there was anything of the sort so near,"remarked Peter, "we'd have made for it ourselves."
"I stumbled on it by chance. However, I'd better explain in detail.As you seem to have heard, I came sick to this trappers' shack. I'dbeen in an Indian camp a week before, on the Nottaway River, where theyhad had smallpox, but I've been vaccinated four or five times, andnever dreamed of danger. I didn't know what the matter with me was, infact, till the red spots began to appear.
"Of course the trappers were badly scared, especially after one of themcaught the disease and died. I can't tell you how sorry I was for thatdeath. I suppose I wasn't to blame, but I felt somehow responsible.
"The Indian cleared out, and I couldn't blame him. But I couldn'tafford to let the third man go. I was over the worst of it by thattime, but I was as weak as a kitten, and could hardly feed myself. Ifhe'd deserted me I should have died. I offered him any sum of money ifhe would stick to me, and told him that I'd shoot him if I saw any signof his making off.
"I couldn't have aimed straight enough to hit him at a yard just then,and I suppose he knew it. Anyhow, he disappeared one morning before Iwas awake. He didn't take much with him except his gun and ammunition.
"I was gaining strength fast, and I was able to stagger about a little.I could get water, and there was some grub in the shack. I knew that Imust get out at once, lest snow should come. I stayed four days; thenI took what grub I could carry, my rifle and a dozen cartridges, andstarted. I left all my specimens, notebooks and everything, for Ididn't dare to carry an ounce more than I could help."
"But the diamonds? They didn't weigh many ounces," interrupted Maurice.
"I struck for the Abitibi," went on Horace, paying no attention to thequestion, "and I was so weak that I couldn't make much speed. I hadbeen out five days, and my grub was pretty nearly gone, when I stumbledinto the lumbermen. They treated me like real Samaritans, took me inand fed me, and I've been there convalescing ever since. Day beforeyesterday I started back here to get my things. I had to travelslowly, for I'm not overstrong yet, and I was hurrying on to get to thecabin to-night when you pounced on me."
"If you had only taken the diamonds with you!" Fred lamented.
"I did," said Horace. He looked at the boys with a smile, and thenwent on:--
"Those stones, my boy, that you saw in the cabin aren't diamonds. Theyare quartz crystals and rather curious garnets, worth a few dollars atthe most. Here are the diamonds!"
He took a small leather pouch from an inner pocket; the boys jumped upin excitement to look. From the pouch he took a small paper package,unfolded it, and revealed nine small lumps, which ranged in size from asmall shot to a large pea. They looked like lumps of gum arabic, buttheir edges and angles reflected brilliant sparks in the firelight.
"Those little things? Are they diamonds?" cried Fred, in somedisappointment.
"Little things? Why, if they were all perfect stones, they'd be wortha small fortune. Unfortunately, the biggest has a flaw in it that youcan see even without cutting it, and some of the others are yellowishand off color. It will take an expert to say what they 're worth. Butthe great triumph is to have found diamonds up here at all."
"Yes, and there must be more where these came from," said Maurice,brightening. "If you've discovered the beds--"
"I haven't, though," Horace returned. "Three of these stones I boughtfrom a camp of Ojibwas. The rest I found in the gravel of thecreek-beds, mostly along the Nottaway River, but none of them within aquarter of a mile of another. Whenever I thought the gravel lookedpromising, I sifted some of it. But I didn't find a trace of the bluesoil that always forms the diamond-beds; if there are diamond-beds uphere, they must be somewhere beyond the region that we have explored."
"But they must be here somewhere," cried Peter, "and there must be morediamonds where you found those! I'll certainly come up here nextsummer and try my own luck."
"I've thought of doing so myself; that is, if this lot turns out to beany good. But getting back to town is the present problem, and we'vegot to consider how to recapture the cabin and your outfit of supplies."
"But not before we eat again," said Fred.
Macgregor, who was as famished as any of them, consented, and theyprepared such a banquet as the three castaways had not seen since theyleft the cabin. It almost exhausted the supplies that Horace hadbrought, but it did them all a great deal of good. With a new f
eelingof being able to grapple with the problem, they settled down toconsider the question of war.
"We might set fire to the cabin," Fred suggested, "and try to capturethe fellows when they rush out."
"Out of the question," declared Peter, "for, even if it worked, theprovisions would be burned up. I had thought of stopping up theirchimney during the night. The smoke would suffocate them in theirsleep, and we could go in and drag them out insensible."
"I am afraid it would waken them first," said Horace. "We'd have themcoming out with rifles. Now I'd been thinking that if we only had someof your formaldehyde fumigator we could get them under control veryeasily."
"So we could. A can of that stuff let through the roof would put theminto a dead stupor without waking them. The only risk would be that ofkilling them all outright. There was a can of it left, too, but it'sin the cabin."
"No, it isn't!" cried Fred. "I put it outside in a hollow tree, so asnot to have the stuff in the house. I could get it in ten minutes."
"Fred, you're a diamond yourself!" Peter exclaimed. "If it's as yousay, we'll have them out of that cabin in a jiffy."
"Shall we try it to-night?" Maurice asked.
"Why not? It's nearly midnight, and they must be asleep," said Horace."I've no fancy for spending another night and day shivering here in thesnow. Besides, we're out of grub."
After some consultation, they put on their snowshoes and tramped offtoward the cabin. It was intensely cold, and very still and clear; abrilliant moon had come up over the pines.
Fred easily found the hollow tree in which he had hidden thedisinfectant, and came back with the apparatus. There was an unopenedtin of formaldehyde complete with its little lamp almost full of spirit.
For some time they reconnoitered the cabin cautiously. A faint glowshone through the skin window, but no sound either of man or dog couldbe heard within.
It would not be possible to introduce the fumigator through the door orwindow, and if it were lowered down the chimney, the draft would carrythe gas out again. But Maurice recollected the hole he had patched inthe roof; it could easily be opened again. He volunteered to set the"smoker" going.
This was really the most dangerous part of the undertaking, for aslight sound might bring out the ruffians, who would probably shootwithout much hesitation. Maurice took off his snowshoes, and carryingthe fumigator, plunged through the drifts toward the cabin.
Twenty yards away the party watched him from the thickets; Horace keptthe door covered with his rifle. The snow had drifted so deep thatMaurice climbed easily to the roof, crawled up the slope on hands andknees, groped about, and began to scrape away the snow.
A moment later, he drew out the deer-hide patch, peered down the hole,and then waved his hand reassuringly toward the woods. He struck amatch, lighted the spirit lamp, and then lowered the can cautiously bya string about a yard long.
In another minute he was back with his friends. "They're dead asleep,"he said, joyfully. "I could hear them snore. The formaldehyde beganto smell strong before I let it down. How long shall we leave it?"
"We don't want to kill them," said Horace.
"No danger," Peter remarked. "The draft from the big chimney will keepclearing the air. I'd leave it till all the stuff is vaporized--say, acouple of hours. The only thing I dread is that some one may wake up;but then, he wouldn't know what the smell was, and the spirit flame isso pale that it's almost invisible."
They watched the cabin intently. All remained deathly quiet. It wasvery cold as they crouched there in the snow. Horace kept his rifleready, but finally his vigilance slackened. They walked about to keepfrom freezing, talked in whispers, and still watched the silent hut.
Suddenly Horace clutched Fred's arm.
"Look!" he cried. "The cabin's on fire!"