A Boy of the Dominion Part 24

For the better part of an hour Hank led his two comrades across the snow-clad side of the hill, guiding them between the trees of the patch of forest land which they had now entered, and keeping always to the west. Then, without show of hesitation, he plunged into a wide-open strip across which could be traced, even at a distance, the tracks left by the two moose they had so recently accosted. Nor did he slacken his pace till a second belt of forest land appeared, and the trio had once more dived into cover.

"You kin sit down and rest awhile and get yer breath," he said shortly.

"Me and Beaver Jack'll watch to see what's happenin' to them varmint.

Gee! I'd give a pile of dollars to know who they are and for why they've taken it into their ugly heads to follow and attack us. You ain't got no notion, Jack?"

The Indian, who had already thrown himself down beneath an evergreen with his face turned in the direction in which they had been coming, merely grunted. It seemed almost as if he considered an answer superfluous. Then, as Hank repeated his question somewhat peremptorily, the Redskin swung over on to his right side and looked back at the hunter.

"Not sure," he said. "Bad men, anyway; half-breeds, p'raps. But want to kill us; maybe they think there is money."

"Then they're jest makin' an almighty error," grinned Hank, who seemed to be amused at the idea, and who, in any case, desperate though the position might be, seemed in no way put out or bereft of his usual cheeriness and a.s.surance. "They're jest making a tarnation error ef money's what they're after, for Joe and I ain't got much more than the price of a tin of 'bacca between us. We've sunk it in land, Jack, land as thieves like them can't grab. But half-breeds they are, I'd guess; though why they should follow us beats me hollow. P'raps they're discharged servants of the Hudson Bay Company, and, happenin' to fall across our tracks, thought to knock us over the heads and clear all that we've got. There's two sides to that sort of business. I ain't never allowed people to give me knocks without rousin' trouble, and guess them 'ere varmint is in fer a little now. Joe, ha' you got any sort o' notion who they could be?"

Was it likely that our hero could have even an idea? After all, his experience of Canada was decidedly limited. It is true that the months he had spent with Peter Strike had taught him a great deal, while his stay in the lumber camp, and the unending yarns of the men when gathered of an evening round the fire, had furnished him with many a little incident telling of the life of the settlers and also of old colonists. Indeed, there were men there who had pa.s.sed to the north as far as Hudson Bay, and who, when pressed, had spoken of the long, dark winters, of the spa.r.s.e population, of the half-breeds to be found at and about the forts erected by the all-dominating Hudson Bay Company.

But search his memory as he might, there was nothing in those yarns to give him an inkling as to who these marauders could be; in fact, he had gathered that life was peculiarly secure even in the out-of-the-way parts of the Dominion. Why, therefore, should he and his two comrades have been so suddenly and unexpectedly attacked?

"Beats me, Hank," he exclaimed, shaking his head. "I got wondering once whether it could be Hurley, who somehow got to learn that you and I were off for a prospecting tour. But is it likely?"

The little hunter stuffed the bowl of his thin pipe with one firm finger tip, while he stared away across the open along the tracks which he and his comrades had made. It was clear that his eyes were hardly observing his surroundings. He was thinking deeply, and his c.o.o.n-skin cap, though it was pulled low down on to his forehead, failed to hide the deep wrinkles which had suddenly appeared, and which even ran down over his brows to the corners of the eyes. He struck a match--for that was one of the luxuries of civilization which he clung to in the backwoods, though Beaver Jack was above such trivial help--and slowly lit the weed.

"I never thought o' that," he said at last; "but it ain't likely.

You've got to bear in mind that Hurley ha got a rope round his neck every day of the week and every hour of his life. He aer likely to be informed against every time he sets his ugly nose near the settlements; and sense you may say as he's always in danger of being taken, it stands to reason that he ain't going to risk his neck jest for the sake of gettin' quits with two of the chaps who helped to chase him. No, it ain't reasonable. Seems to me as it aer likely that what Beaver Jack says aer right. Them 'ere skunks is half-breeds out ter rob. They've perhaps been huntin'. P'raps they belong to some station north of this, and has been sent along to get stores or to take a message, though as a general rule there ain't much of that sorter work done in the winter. Anyways, they dropped on our trace and, seein' as there was three of us, made up their minds to wipe us out. But ef they ain't mighty careful they'll come up agin bad trouble afore they're much older."

That was the utmost that one could say of this mystery. After all, what difference did it make who these strangers might be? It could not help Joe and his friends to be sure of their names, not in the slightest. But still Joe puzzled. Could it be Hurley?

"Nonsense!" he told himself. "Hank must be right. The man would never risk his neck just on the offchance of killing a couple of the men who helped to arrest him. All the same, I wish he'd never escaped, and in any case, I am awfully sorry about that envelope he took from me. I've bothered about it a whole heap; for though I feel sure that the contents were of no actual monetary value, yet there was some message of great importance which Father wished me to have once I had made some sort of a place in the world. What could it have been?"

What, indeed? Of what use to worry, seeing that Hurley had relieved our hero of the missive, and then, when that rascal had been captured, though his dollar bills were forthcoming, there was no trace of the letter? It was gone. Perhaps even Hurley was already captured, while the men following at that moment, and still out of sight, had undoubtedly no connection with the outlaw who had so nearly ended Joe's attempts at settling in this vast dominion.

"Guess they've been bothered by the trees, and has had to climb out of the sledges and walk quiet," chuckled Hank, when a quarter of an hour had pa.s.sed without a sight of the enemy. "Now see here, mates, our game aer as clear as daylight. With this here snow all around we can't hope to smother our tracks and get clear off. Ef it war springtime, or summer, a babe could do it. There's fifty ways more or less. We could climb a tree, sneak along from branch to branch in a wood same as this and then drop into a river, takin' care to land somewhere whar there was rock. In course, ef it snowed jest now that'd help us. But then it ain't goin' to snow. There's nary a cloud in the sky, so it simply comes to holding them off as long as we're able, and this here aer jest the spot to work it. Guess me and Joe'll have a bite while Jack watches. When we've done, he can have a turn."

It was an excellent proposal on the hunter's part, and Joe seized upon the opportunity, for the brisk air and the excitement of the day had given him a keen appet.i.te, and our hero had become somewhat notorious for that since he came to this glorious country. He and Hank sat down, therefore, and, pulling some of their ready-cooked food from their pack bags, made a hearty meal. Then Beaver Jack was relieved, while Joe took his place.

"Jest keep yer eyes skinned, and follow every inch of the line of the wood 'way across the open," said Hank. "I'm goin' to take a look round on either hand and in front. It wouldn't do to sit tight here waitin'

and waitin', and have them skunks round us up and come along towards us from the opposite direction. You kin never say what sort o' tricks a half-breed will be up to, so jest look lively."

He went off through the trees for all the world as if he were a ghost, his snowshoes making not so much as a sound. Joe lay flat on his face in the snow, taking the same position that Beaver Jack had selected.

Placing his rifle a little to one side and somewhat in front, he stared steadily across the open, watching the edge of the wood from which they had themselves lately emerged, and then gazing to right and to left.

But not yet could he detect the presence of the enemy, and since they were not there, he fell again to wondering who they were, from whence they had come, and for what purpose they had attacked a party of hunters who could by no possibility have done them harm, and who, in any case, could not be the possessors of great wealth. As to his own feelings on the question of personal danger, he had not so much as a qualm. Perhaps, if he had been warned that an attack was to be made, he would have been thrown into that curious condition which is neither caused by fear nor by anxiety, but merely by that natural agitation of spirit which comes to the average man when danger threatens. But here Joe had been, as it were, suddenly pitchforked into the midst of turmoil. At one moment he had been facing a charging moose, a situation requiring nerve, and the next he had found himself the object of bullets sent by an enemy from behind. Ah, there they were! The irregular line of the forest was of a sudden broken; Joe had been gazing in that direction but a second earlier and had seen nothing.

Now, when his eyes swung once more to that quarter, two sleighs stood out prominently, their dog teams sprawling out ahead of them. The dark figures of five men moved about the sleighs, and it was clear from their movements that they had been marching through the forest, and were now about to mount their vehicles again.

"Slipping off their snowshoes and getting ready for a burst of speed across the open," said Joe to himself. "That'll be the time to read 'em a lesson, and seems to me they deserve one."

He turned his head for a moment and beckoned to Beaver Jack; then, picking up his rifle, he laid the sights on one of the sledges and waited for a forward move on the part of the enemy. Nor could it be said that our hero had the smallest doubt as to what his action should be, or the slightest compunction at the thought of firing on these strangers.

"It's they or us," he told himself, "and they have a bigger party. Ah!

what's that? More of them!"

No wonder he gave vent to a cry of amazement, for a hurried inspection of the party aboard the pursuing sleighs had given him the impression at the beginning of this strange encounter that there were only four or more in the party. Now he knew that the sleighs bore five. But just as that number had embarked, he was thunderstruck to see four more dark figures issue from the irregular line of the forest and move out on to the open snow. At the same instant there was a slight noise beside him, so, turning his head, he found Hank had returned and had taken up a position. He lay full length, his rifle to his hand, his eyes glued on the enemy.

"The tarnation skunks!" Joe heard him growl. "I ain't surprised to see more of 'em. That jest explains why they've been so slow in following.

The sleigh party went ahead, hoping to drive right up to us and finish the business. T'others followed afoot, and when the fust lot was disappointed, why, they halted for a while so as they could all come along together. This aer mighty awkward. Yer see, ef they breaks up into several lots, we can't hope to keep 'em back. There's enough hollows and trees out there in the open to give 'em shelter, and in course of time they're bound to close in on us. This aer a tarnation fix."

There was little doubt, in fact, that Joe and his comrades were face to face with a dangerous dilemma. For, as Hank was not slow to point out, if merely the two sleigh parties attempted a dash across the open, he and Joe and Jack might very well hope to pick some of the enemy off, and even to force them to retreat; but with four others added, and they on snowshoes, it would be next door to impossible to hold them at a distance.

"It aer come to a council," said Hank, scratching his head. "To me it seems likely enough that them cusses aboard the sleighs'll try a dash.

Wall, that won't help 'em overmuch, for in a jiffy we'll teach 'em something worth learnin'. What bothers me is to say how we should work ef they makes across, taking advantage of every bit of cover. Where are we to go? We can't keep runnin' away for ever. 'Sides, I ain't so sure as I'm ready to show my heels to skunks same as these."

There was a resentful, threatening note in his words, and, glancing at the little hunter, Joe saw that his face was flushed, while his little eyes were flas.h.i.+ng dangerously. After all, in spite of his somewhat diminutive proportions, there was quite a lot of the bull dog about Hank. Those who knew the hunter knew him to be a cunning and courageous tracker, a man to be depended on, a friend worth having, an enemy more than difficult to make--for Hank hated quarrels, and was for ever ready to forgive and forget--and yet an enemy to be duly feared and placated. Those who had been so unfortunate never to have had the opportunity of meeting this remarkable little man, save on one occasion, were none the less impressed. Hank's was a personality that bred confidence. Strength of character, honesty of purpose, bull-dog determination were written plainly on his face, even while it was wreathed with the most cordial smiles. Joe had felt the very same about his friend. Hank had impressed him from the first. Sometimes he imagined that long acquaintance had disclosed all the hunter's points, good and bad, to him. But even now he had something to learn. He had never seen his friend in a similar position to this; he had never known him when he was the object of an unprovoked attack, and when the odds were opposed to him. But seeing his firm face now, the strong determination on every feature, his own chin took on something of the same aspect. Looking at the two as they lay side by side, one would have said at once that while the elder man could be relied on whatever the position, his youthful comrade was not one whit behind him.

"Wall?" came from Hank dryly, while the lock of his rifle clicked.

"Ain't you goin' to speak?"

Joe looked sharply across at him. "Eh?" he asked. "I thought you were speaking to Beaver Jack and asking his opinion."

"And mighty nice of you, lad," came the answer. "I like to see a young chap as keeps his mouth shut till his elders has spoken. But there ain't too much time before us, and 'sides, I know that Jack would ha spoken already ef he had anything to say. What's your idea? You've reckoned the position. You ain't ready to go on runnin' away from a set o' skunks same as them, aer you?"

"No!" came emphatically from our hero. "Partly because I couldn't.

I'd soon be done, for this snowshoeing is heavy work to one who is not hardened. Then I don't see why I should. Who are they that we should run from them? Let 'em prove that they are stronger."

"Gee! You'll do!" cried Hank. "That's the sort of spirit. Wall, now, you've some sort of idea?"

"None." Joe was bound to confess it. "But," he went on, "it seems to me that we ought to look out for some place which we can hold. Of course it could only be for a short while, as we have no large supply of food; but it would bring this business to a head. Perhaps these fellows would make an attack and give us a chance of beating them. If not, why--well something might turn up to help, and in any case it would be better than this constant running."

"And I'm with you," cried Hank; "only jest now there's not so much as the sight of a place where we could hold 'em, and till one turns up, why, in course, it's run we must. But we'll keep a bright lookout.

See here, and jest you listen, Beaver Jack. We'll give them fellers a dusting ef they try to cross, and then we'll trail arms and slink off through the forest. Something'll turn up soon to help us."

It was perhaps two minutes later that there was a general move on the part of the enemy. The leading man aboard each sleigh was seen to stand, gripping the reins in one hand while he swung a short-handled whip with the other, one which boasted of an enormously long and heavy lash that even a moderately skilful operator could cause to crack with the sound of a rifle report.

"Ay, and more'n that," Hank had observed on one occasion. "I've known men who could swing a whip so as to cut in two anything that was anywheres within reach. One half-breed from 'way up north could stand on his head even and cut slick through a chunk of bread, while there ain't one of them that's used to the whip and has dogs to drive that couldn't set a pal up afore him with a cigarette in his mouth and jest flick the cigarette away as easy and as sartin as winkin'. Then, too, the cut of a heavy lash same as they use is that keen, they say some of 'em could nearly divide a dog with it, ay, cut him in two, while they'd easy whip a chunk out o' the poor beasts. Cruel! In course them whips is cruel, and so's the men. But then you ain't dealing with ordinary dogs; them critters is fierce, and ef they was hungry ain't above tearing a human to pieces."

But this was not the moment for discussing the pros and cons of dog whips, nor the prowess of the men who wield them; for the enemy were on the move. It seemed almost as if they had made up their minds to ignore all thoughts of danger; or perhaps they imagined that Hank had led his two comrades steadily forward, and was not lying beneath the trees beyond the open s.p.a.ce waiting with loaded rifles for them. In any case, the drivers sent their whips cracking over their teams, while the dogs responded by leaping into their harness and speeding away from the irregular line of the forest. At the same moment the four men on foot, who were shod with snowshoes, shot out from the cover and, dividing till a wide interval separated each man, came speeding across the snow.

"Beaver Jack takes 'em to right," said Hank steadily, not a waver in his voice. "I take the critters in the centre; Joe pays partic'lar attention to the varmint on the left. Fire as you get 'em in line with your sights."

A spurt of flame issued from his own muzzle a second or so later, Joe peering out across the snow to see what effect the bullet had; and once more he was witness of the effect of a missile striking a glancing blow on the snowfield. A cloud of white particles suddenly leaped up in front of the foremost sleigh, hiding the men aboard it, while a shout came from the enemy.

"Missed 'em by a pip," observed Hank, ramming in a fresh cartridge.

"You, Joe."

Our hero lined his sights on the second sleigh, followed the moving object for a moment, then pressed his trigger; and all the while as he aimed he was wondering at his own coolness. He might indeed have been firing at inanimate objects. The idea that he was aiming at living men hardly seemed to trouble him in the slightest, while if he had any qualms at the thought that his bullet might slay a fellow being, he never showed them.

"It's they or us," he repeated for the tenth time at least. "They've made an unprovoked attack, and must put up with the consequences."

Bang! His own weapon spat forth a bullet, while a cloud of white smoke belched from the muzzle, to die away at once. All eyes went toward the sleigh he had aimed at, and once again the tell-tale spray of snow showed exactly where the missile had landed, and precisely by how much it had missed the enemy.

"Not bad shootin'," said Hank. "Them sleighs is moving fast, and you want to give 'em at least a yard ahead when you're aiming. Beaver Jack, jest you see what you're made of."

There came a grunt from the Redskin. Joe watched the seamed and lined and strangely-impa.s.sive face of the Indian go down towards the b.u.t.t of his rifle. He saw the hooked nose settle itself against the wood of the stock, while one of the keen eyes seemed to become rather more prominent. There came a sharp report, and almost at once an answering scream from the distance.