II
THE GRANDE PORTAGE
That night and the next day the two lads' heads were full of the Islandof Yellow Sands. They wanted to be alone to discuss the Indian's tale,but found it impossible to avoid their companions. Moreover they had fewidle moments, for the Northwest Fur Company's station was a busy placethat July day in 179--. Nearly a thousand men were gathered at the post,and there was much work to be done.
The Bay of the Grande Portage, where the station was located, is on thenorthwest shore of Lake Superior, a few miles south of the Pigeon River.The river forms a part of the line between the United States and theDominion of Canada. Although the peace treaty that followed theRevolution had been signed, defining the boundary, the NorthwestCompany, a Canadian organization, still maintained its trading post onUnited States ground. The place had proved a convenient and satisfactoryspot for the chief station, that marked the point of departure from LakeSuperior for the country north and west.
Separated from a much larger bay to the northeast by a long point ofland, and further cut off from the main lake by an outlying, woodedisland, Grande Portage was well screened from all winds except thesouth. The land at the head of the bay formed a natural amphitheatre andhad been cleared of woods. On one side of the open ground, underneath ahill more than three hundred feet high, with higher hills rising beyond,a cedar stockade walled in a rectangular space some twenty-four rodswide by thirty long. Within the stockade were the quarters of the men incharge of the post, clerks, servants, artisans and visiting traders andmembers of the Company, as well as the buildings where furs, suppliesand goods for trade were stored and business transacted. There also wasthe great dining hall where proprietors, clerks, guides and interpretersmessed together.
Outside the stockade were grouped tents and upturned canoes, supportedon paddles and poles. The tents were the temporary homes of the"northmen," the men who went to the far north and west for furs. The"comers and goers" or "pork eaters," as the canoemen who made the tripbetween Montreal and the Portage, but did not go on to the west, werecalled, slept under their canoes. In that queer town of tents and boats,men were constantly coming and going; clerks and other employees fromthe fort; painted and befeathered Indians, many of them accompanied bysquaws and children; and French-Canadians and half-breed voyageurs,strikingly clothed in blanket or leather tunics, leggings and moccasinsof tanned skins, and scarlet sashes and caps.
Offshore a small sailing vessel of about fifty tons burden lay atanchor. This boat was to take a cargo of pelts back across the lake, butthe main dependence of the Company was placed upon the great fleet ofcanoes. Other smaller canoes were arriving daily from the northwest orsetting out in that direction, the route being up the Riviere auxTourtres, now known as Pigeon River, the English translation of theFrench name. The mouth of the stream is about five miles northeast ofGrande Portage Bay, and the falls and rapids near the outlet were somany and dangerous that boats could not be paddled or poled throughthem. So the canoes from the west had to be unloaded several miles abovethe mouth of the river, and the packages of furs carried on the backs ofmen over a hard nine-mile portage to the post, while provisions andarticles of trade were taken back to the waiting canoes in the same way.This was the long or great portage that gave the place its name.
Busy with their work, and surrounded almost constantly by the othervoyageurs, the boys had no opportunity to discuss the prospect ofreaching the Island of Yellow Sands, but Jean found a chance to answersome of Ronald's questions about the tall Ojibwa. The Indian's gratitudeand devotion to Jean's father dated from fifteen years back, when theelder Havard had saved him from being put to death by white traders atthe Sault de Ste. Marie, for a crime he had not committed. Convinced ofNangotook's innocence, Havard had induced the angry men to delay theexecution of their sentence, and had sought out and brought to justicethe real offender, a renegade half-breed. For that service the Indianhad vowed that his life belonged to his white brother. The Ojibwa andthe Frenchman had become fast friends, for Nangotook, or Etienne, as theFrench priests, in whose mission school he had been trained, hadchristened him, was one of the higher type of Indians, possessing mostof the better and few of the worse traits of his tribe. He visitedHavard at his home on the St. Lawrence, and there became the devotedfriend of little Jean, then a child of three.
Since that first visit, Nangotook had appeared at the Havard home anumber of times, after irregular intervals of absence, sometimes ofmonths, again of years. Although, until the night before, it had beenmore than four years since Jean had seen him, the Ojibwa had apparentlynot forgotten either his gratitude to the elder Havard or his affectionfor the boy. That gratitude and affection had led him to offer to guidethe two lads to the wonderful island. Jean and his father needed gold,so Nangotook intended that they should have gold, if it was in his powerto help them to it. Ronald was Jean's friend, and the Indian was willingto include him also. Moreover what he had overheard of the Scotch boy'sremarks about the way some of the traders treated the Indians hadpleased Nangotook. He had taken the teachings of the missionary priestsseriously and had grasped at least a little of their meaning. By naturemoderate and self-controlled, he realized the disasters that were comingupon his people through the physical degradation, idleness and otherevils that followed overindulgence in the white man's liquor. SoRonald's disgust at the unscrupulousness of many of the traders in theirdealings with the savages had met with his approval, and had made theIndian the lad's friend.
It was nearly sunset when the two boys slipped away from the camp to thesecluded spot where they were to meet Etienne. Seating themselves on thefallen tree trunk, they began at once to talk of the subject uppermostin their thoughts. In a week or two the canoes would be ready to startback around the shore of the lake to the Sault, and thence to Montreal,where they would arrive late in September. Jean and Ronald, however,were not obliged to return the whole distance, although, up to the nightbefore, they had intended to do so. They had spent the previous winterat the Sault de Ste. Marie, the falls of the river St. Mary whichconnects Lake Superior with Lake Huron. Jean had been staying with aFrench family there, friends of his father, while Ronald, who had madethe trip from Montreal with his uncle in the autumn, had remained, afterthe latter's return, as a volunteer helper to the Company's agent at theSault. Before pledging him to the Company's service for a term of years,his uncle had wished him to learn whether he really liked the businessof fur-trading. When, in the spring, the canoe fleet from Montreal hadarrived at the Sault, it had been short handed. Two men had been killedand several seriously injured in an accident on the way. So it happenedthat Jean and Ronald, expert canoemen and eager to make the Superiortrip, had been engaged with three others. Their contracts were only forthe voyage from the Sault to the Grande Portage and back again to theSault, and they were under no obligation to go on with the fleet toMontreal.
Whether there would be time, before cold weather and winter storms setin, to come back to the lake and join the Indian in a search for theIsland of Yellow Sands, they could not be sure until they had consultedhim. They hoped ardently that they could make the attempt that year, forwho could tell what might happen before another spring? As Ronaldpointed out, Etienne alone knew how to reach the island. If anythingshould go wrong with him, they would have no guide. Moreover, in theinterval, some other white man might discover the place. Indeed Etienne,though Jean thought that unlikely, might take it into his head to leadsome one else there.
They were discussing this question, when, just as the sun was sinking,the Indian joined them. It soon became evident that he was bent onleading them on the adventure, and they were quite as eager to followhim. He seemed certain that there would be ample time, unless they weredelayed by unusually bad weather, to make at least one trip from theSault to the mysterious island and back, before winter set in. He wouldfurnish a small canoe, and would bargain at the trading post for thesupplies they would need. He was well known at the Sault, and hisarrival there would excite no comment. But he
cautioned them to keeptheir plans secret, lest others should forestall them in the discoveryof the gold. They must disappear quietly and join their guide at a spotagreed upon, several miles from the little settlement. As rapidly aspossible they would paddle along the north shore of Lake Superior to theplace where they must strike out into the open lake. The voyage fromshore to island could be undertaken only in the best of weather, but itcould be made, he assured them, in a few hours. After they had loadedtheir canoe with as much sand as it would carry, they would return tothe shelter of the shore, and make their way back to the eastern end ofthe lake. Not far from the Sault he knew a safe, well hidden spot wherethey could secrete the bulk of their precious cargo, until they couldfind an opportunity to return to the island for more.
Any scruples the lads might have felt at leaving the Sault withoutletting their friends know where they were going, were soon overcome bythe lure of the adventure as well as of the gold itself. They comfortedtheir consciences with the thought that, once they had found the yellowsands, they would make everything right by taking Jean's father andRonald's uncle into confidence and partnership. Then they would secure,or build, a small sailing vessel, and bring away from the island all thegold they would ever need. M. Havard could buy back the old home on theSt. Lawrence that financial reverses had forced him to lose. Jean glowedwith the thought of the happiness his father and mother would feel atreturning to their dearly loved and much mourned home. Ronald was anorphan, the uncle in Montreal being his only near relative, and thelatter was wealthy and not in need of help. But the boy had alreadyplanned a great future for himself. First he would go to college inMontreal and perhaps even in England for a time, until he learned allthe things an explorer ought to know. Then he would make up anexpedition to the north and west, and, not being dependent on trade forgain, would penetrate to new lands and would add, not only to his ownglory and renown, but to that of his country as well.
After their plans had been perfected, so far as they could be at thattime, Nangotook left them, but the two lads lingered to discuss theirhopes and dreams. As they were sitting on the log, watching themoonlight on the peaceful waters of the bay, and talking in low buteager voices, Jean's keen ears caught the sound of a snapping twig and aslight rustle among the trees behind him. He rose quickly to his feetand peered into the shadows, but could distinguish nothing that couldhave made the sounds. Ronald also took alarm. They ceased theirconversation, and slipped quietly back among the trees and bushes. Inthe darkness they could find no trace of anything disturbing, but thethread of their thoughts had been broken, and they felt strangelyuneasy. With one accord they turned in the direction of the camp, andmade their way towards it without speaking. As they approached the edgeof the clearing, they saw ahead of them the dark figure of a man slipout from among the trees and go swiftly, but with an awkward gait,across the open. His stiff ankle and out-turning right foot betrayedhim.
"Le Forgeron Tordu," exclaimed Ronald. "Do you suppose he was listeningto us?"
"I fear it," answered Jean. "We were fools not to be more cautious. Iwould give much to know just what he overheard."
"He may not have been listening at all," Ronald returned. "Perhaps hewas merely passing through the woods and didn't hear us, or paid no heedeven if he caught the sound of our voices. Unless he were close by hecouldn't have understood, for we were speaking softly."
Jean shook his head doubtfully. "I hope he heard nothing," he said."There is not another man in the fleet I would so fear to have know ourplans. He is not to be trusted for one moment. There is nothing evil hewould shrink from, if he thought it to his advantage."
"Well," was Ronald's answer, "he's not fond of you and me, that iscertain, but what harm can he do? Since Etienne left, I am sure we havenot been saying anything about the island itself or how to reach it.Indeed he told us little enough. He merely said it lies south of a pointon the north shore, the Rock of the Beaver he called it, but he didn'ttell us where on the north shore that rock is. Have you ever heard ofsuch a place, Jean?"
The French lad shook his head, then said with an air of relief, "It istrue Le Forgeron can have learned nothing of importance, if he has beenlistening. He was not near when Etienne was there or Etienne would havediscovered him. Trust Nangotook not to let an enemy creep up on himwithout his knowing it. But we must be more careful in the future."
The camp was ruddy with the light of fires and noisy with the voices ofmen, talking, laughing, singing, quarreling. Many of the voyageurs werethe worse for too much liquor, which flowed far too freely among thecanoemen. But the canoe where the boys lodged was near the edge of thecamp, and they were able to avoid the more noisy and boisterous groups.
The night was fine, and they had no need of shelter. Wrapping themselvesin their blankets, they stretched out, not under the canoe, but in itsshadow, a little way from the fire. Around the blaze the rest of thecrew were gathered, listening to the tale that one of the Frenchmen wastelling with much animation and many gestures. Ordinarily the boys wouldhave paused to hear the story, for they usually enjoyed sitting aboutthe camp-fire to listen to the tales and join in the songs. They had notaste for the excesses and more boisterous merry-making of many of themen and youths who were their companions, but, as both boys were plucky,good-natured, and always willing to do their share of the work, theirtemperate and quiet ways did them no harm with most of their roughfellows, and they were by no means unpopular. That night, however, theytook no interest in song or story. Their minds were too full of thefascinating adventure in which they had enlisted.