The Pony Rider Boys in Alaska Part 2

"Well, I fell in soft spots anyhow," retorted Stacy.

"Ordinarily on your head, I believe," answered Ned quickly.

Again thanking the Captain for his kindness, the lads returned to the deck. Tad leaned against the rail thinking over the story related by the skipper. The romance of the quest of the Diggers appealed to Butler's adventure-loving nature. He declared to himself that he would draw them into conversation and satisfy his further curiosity. Looking them over in the light of what he had heard, Tad saw that the four were determined-looking men, were men who would do and dare, no matter how great the obstacles or the perils. He could not but feel a keen admiration for them. They were real men, even if they were surly and reticent.

"Tad, how would you like to belong to that party of prospectors?" asked Ned, nodding toward the four.

"I can't imagine anything more exciting. I wish we might. I wonder if they are going our way?"

"Why don't you ask them?"

"I intend to," answered Tad, rousing himself and starting towards the prospectors who were lounging apart from the other pa.s.sengers on the deck of the steamer.

"Watch him get turned down," grinned Stacy. "I shall have to break the ice for him. He never will be able to do it for himself."

"Better wait until you are asked," advised Ned Rector.

As Stacy had said, Tad did not succeed in getting into conversation with the Diggers that day. Early on the following morning the boys were on deck, being unwilling to miss a single moment of the scenery.

The "Corsair" was swinging majestically into Queen Charlotte Sound, a splendid sweep of purple water, where great waves from the Pacific rolled in, sending the steamer plunging desperately. There was a scurry on the part of many of the early risers to get below decks, for the change from the quiet waters through which the boat had been sailing to this tumultuous sea was more than most of them were able to stand. Stacy Brown was already on his back in the shadow of a life boat, groaning miserably. Walter Perkins' face was pale, but he held himself together by a strong effort of will, but Tad Butler and Ned Rector appeared not in the least affected by the roll of the steamer. Both were lost in admiration of the scene that was unfolding before them.

"They roll along with the lightness of thistledown across a green field," declared Tad enthusiastically, speaking to himself. "It is simply glorious."

He heard someone come to the rail at his side, but the lad was too fully absorbed to look around.

"That wasn't bad for a sentiment, young fellow," said a voice at his elbow. "If you stay up in this country long enough, however, you will get all the sentiment frozen out of you. I know, for I've been all through it. I'm lucky that my bones aren't up yonder somewhere."

"Yes, sir," answered Butler.

Glancing around he found himself gazing into the face of Curtis Darwood.

CHAPTER II

THE BOYS SCENT A PLOT

"Oh, how do you do, sir. Did I say anything?"

"Well, there's a chance for a difference of opinion as to that," smiled the miner.

"I have been enjoying the scenery, sir. Isn't it beautiful?"

"You should see it at sunrise," answered Darwood. "These mists are well worth coming all the way up here to gaze upon. In the morning they take on all the delicate tints of the primrose. Then at sunset of course the colors grow warmer--amber, orange, gold--almost everything that could be imagined in the way of wonderful colorings. All that sort of thing, you know. I never saw anything like it in any part of the world, and I've seen some," added the Gold Digger reflectively.

"I should like to see it at sunset," answered Tad. "Is it ever like this in the interior, sir?"

"Interior of what?"

"Of the country? Up there in the mountains?"

Darwood gave the boy a quick glance of inquiry. There was suspicion in his eyes.

"In the far country?" added Butler.

"I can't say as to that; I can't say that I know," replied the prospector shortly.

"What we wanted to ask you about was the Yakutat trail from the coast up?" interjected Ned. "You see, we are going that way and we want to get all the information we can about the trails and the country itself."

Tad gave his companion a warning look, but Ned persisted in pressing his questioning. The miner's hands dropped from the rail.

"I reckon you would better ask someone else. I can't tell you anything about the trail," replied Darwood, turning on his heel and striding away.

"There, you've done it now," complained Butler ruefully. "Of course you had to break in and spoil it all. Now we shan't get another opportunity.

Mr. Darwood is suspicious of us, and he won't talk with us again. It's too bad."

"Well, you wanted to know. What's the use in beating about the bush when you want to know a thing. I believe in asking for what you want,"

protested Ned.

"So do I, but it isn't always best to go at it bald-headed. However, never mind, Ned. I am now convinced that there would be little use in asking Mr. Darwood questions in any circ.u.mstances. The instant you begin to talk Alaska with that man he is going to shy off. He fears he might be trapped into an admission, or else he thinks we are trying to pump him for some other reason. You may be sure that others have tried to draw him out, believing they might obtain information that he is supposed to possess."

"They are a queer lot," muttered Ned. "Didn't the Captain say no one knew anything about this gold pa.s.s, or whatever you call it?"

"Taku Pa.s.s? Yes. That is, he said few persons knew of it, but you may be sure that the purpose of these men up here is known. There are plenty of gentlemen waiting to beat those four into the land of golden promise. I don't blame the Diggers for having their suspicions of everyone about them. I wish I could convince them that we aren't that sort of people. I like that fellow. I'd like to help him, too," mused Tad.

"I shouldn't. However, I'm sorry I put my foot in it," nodded Ned.

"You needn't be. See! We are running out of the swell now."

The steamer, soon coming under the lee of the islands, was steaming into Fitzhugh Sound, where dangerous shoals menace the navigators of these enchanting waters. Captain Petersen was now occupying the little bridge just forward of the pilot house. His face was grim and set. The good fellow was no longer present--it was now the master, bent upon attending to his duties.

The sound is a slender waterway, extending directly northward fully thirty miles, more entrancing, it seemed to the boys, than any other water over which they had sailed. The Pony Rider Boys were having a glorious pa.s.sage into the far north where they were going in search of new adventure. They were bound for the wildest and most remote section of Uncle Sam's domain, where they hoped to spend the summer months.

Now that the waters had become more quiet, Stacy Brown slowly dragged himself from the shadow of the life-boat and stood gripping the gunwale.

After getting his head leveled somewhat he walked unsteadily to his companions who were leaning on the steamer's rail regarding him with smiling faces.

"Sick?" questioned Tad.

"No; merely ailing," replied the fat boy.

"I wouldn't be a landlubber," jeered Rector.

"You would, if you were in my place," muttered Stacy.

On through a panorama of changing scenes and colors sailed the "Corsair." In Finlayson Channel, some distance farther on, the forest that lined the sh.o.r.es was a solid mountain of green on each side, the trees growing down to the water. Here the reflections were so brilliant that the dividing line between sh.o.r.e and water was difficult for the untrained eye to make out. The boys seemed to be gazing upon an optical illusion. From the water's edge the mountains rose sheer to a great height, their distant peaks capped with snow glistening in the morning sunlight, while glacial streams flashed over the open s.p.a.ces on the mountain sides.