XIX THE BAY OF MANITOS
The night passed quietly, unbroken by any sound of beast, bird or man,until the crying of the gulls woke the sleepers in the fog-gray dawn.Chilled and stiff, they threw off their damp blankets and climbed out ofthe bateau. By dint of much patience and a quantity of finely shreddedbirch bark, a slow fire of damp wood was kindled, the flame growingbrighter as the wood dried out.
After he had swallowed his last spoonful of corn, Hugh remarked, "If weare held here to-day, we must try for food of some kind. We haven'thunted or fished since we left the mainland, and our supplies are goingfast."
Blaise nodded. "We need fire no shots to fish."
Fishing in the little pond did not appear promising. When the boysattempted to paddle through the passageway, they ran aground, and wereforced to wait for the water to rise and float the boat. The samefluctuation they had noticed the day before was still going on. Luck didnot prove good in the narrow channel, and they went on into the wider onebetween the long point and the row of islands. The fog was almost gone,though the sky was still gray. Would the weather permit a start for themainland?
Turning to the northeast, they went the way they had come the precedingafternoon. As they approached the end of the last island, they realizedthat this was no time to attempt a crossing. Wind there was now, too muchwind. It came from the northwest, and the lake, a deep green under thegray sky, was heaving with big waves, their tips touched with foam. Thebateau would not sail against that wind. To try to paddle theheavily-laden boat across those waves would be the worst sort of folly.
Turning again, they went slowly back through the protected channel, Hughwielding the blade while Blaise fished. Luck was still against them.Either there were no fish in the channel or they were not hungry. Onbeyond the entrance to the hiding place, the two paddled. Passing theabrupt end of an island, they came to a wider expanse of water. They werestill sheltered by the high, wooded ridges to their right, where darkevergreens and bright-leaved birches rose in tiers. In the otherdirection, they could see, between scattered islands, the open lake tothe horizon line. Misty blue hills in the distance ahead, beyond islandsand forested shores, indicated another bay, longer and wider than the onethe _Otter_ had entered.
Blaise, who was paddling now, raised his blade and looked questioninglyat Hugh. The latter answered the unspoken query. "I am for going on. Wehave seen no signs of human beings since that canoe, and we need fish."
Blaise nodded and dipped his paddle again. As they drew near a reefrunning out from the end of a small island, Hugh felt his line tighten.Fishing from the bateau was much less precarious than from a canoe.Without endangering the balance of the boat, Hugh hauled in his linequickly, swung in his fish, a lake trout of eight or ten pounds, andrapped it smartly on the head with his paddle handle. He then gave theline to Blaise and took another turn at the paddle. In less than tenminutes, Blaise had a pink-fleshed trout somewhat smaller than Hugh's.
Then luck deserted them again. Not another fish responded to the lure ofthe hook, though they paddled back and forth beside the reef severaltimes. They went on along the little island and up the bay for anothermile or more without a nibble. It was a wonderful place, that lonely bay,fascinating in its wild beauty. Down steep, densely wooded ridges, thedeep green spires of the spruces and balsams, interspersed with paler,round-topped birches, descended in close ranks. Between the ridges, theclear, transparent water was edged with gray-green cedars, white-floweredmountain ashes, alders and other bushes, and dotted with wooded islands.Far beyond the head of the bay blue hills rose against the sky. Thefishing, however, was disappointing, and paddling the bateau was tiresomework, so the lads turned back.
As they passed close to an island, the younger boy's quick eye caught amovement in a dogwood near the water. A long-legged hare went leapingacross an opening.
"If we cannot get fish enough, we will eat rabbit," said the boy, turningthe boat into a shallow curve in the shore of the little island. "I willset some snares. If we are delayed another day, we will come in themorning to take our catch."
Tying the boat to an overhanging cedar tree, the brothers went ashore. Onthe summit of the island, in the narrowest places along a sort of runwayevidently frequented by hares, Blaise set several snares of cedar barkcord. While the younger brother was placing his last snare, Hugh returnedto the boat. He startled a gull perched upon the prow, and the bird rosewith a harsh cry of protest at being disturbed. Immediately the cry wasrepeated twice, a little more faintly each time. Hugh looked about forthe birds that had answered. No other gulls were in sight. Then herealized that what he had heard was a double echo, unusually loud andclear. Forgetting caution he let out a loud, "Oh--O." It came backpromptly, "Oh--o, o--o."
"Be quiet!" The words were hissed in a low voice, as Blaise leaped outfrom among the trees. "Canoes are coming. We must hide."
He darted back into the woods, Hugh following. Swiftly they made theirway to the summit of the island. The growth was thin along the irregularrock lane. Blaise dropped down and crawled, Hugh after him. Lying flat ina patch of creeping bearberry, the younger lad raised his head a little.Hugh wriggled to his side, and, peeping through a serviceberry bush,looked out across the water.
The warning had been justified. Two canoes, several men in each, werecoming up the bay. The nearest canoe was not too far away for Hugh tomake out in the center a man who towered, tall and broad, above theothers. The boy remembered the gigantic Indian outlined against the sky,as his canoe passed in the early dawn. He saw him again, standingmotionless, with folded arms, in the red light of the fire.
Blaise, close beside him, whispered in his ear, "Ohrante himself. Whatshall we do?"
If the canoes came down the side of the island where the bateau was,discovery was inevitable. For a moment, Hugh's mind refused to work. Agull circled out over the water, screaming shrilly. Like a ray of light aplan flashed into the boy's head.
"Stay here," he whispered. "Keep still. Remember the 'Bay of Spirits.'"
Swiftly Hugh wriggled back and darted down through the woods to the spotwhere the bateau lay. He crouched behind an alder bush, drew a longbreath, and sent a loud, shrill cry across the water. Immediately it wasrepeated once, twice, ringing back across the channel from the islandsand steep shore beyond. Before the final echo had died away, he sent hisvoice forth again, this time in a hoarse bellow. Then, in rapidsuccession, he hooted like an owl, barked like a dog, howled like a wolf,whistled piercingly with two fingers in his mouth, imitated the mockinglaughter of the loon, growled and roared and hissed and screamed in everymanner he could devise and with all the power of his strong young lungs.The roughened and cracked tones of his voice, not yet through turningfrom boy's to man's, made his yells and howls and groans the more weirdand demoniac. And each sound was repeated once and again, producing averitable pandemonium of unearthly noises which seemed to come from everyside.
Pausing to take breath, Hugh was himself startled by another voice, notan echo of his own, which rang out from somewhere above him, loud andshrill. It spoke words he did not understand, and no echo came back. Asecond time the voice cried out, still in the same strange language, butnow Hugh recognized the names Ohrante and Minong and then, to hisamazement, that of his own father Jean Beaupre. For an instant the ladalmost believed that this was indeed a "Bay of Spirits." Who but a spiritcould be calling the name of Jean Beaupre in this remote place? Who butBlaise, Beaupre's other son? It was Blaise of course, crying out inOjibwa from up there at the top of the island. He had uttered some threatagainst Ohrante.
Suddenly recalling his own part in the game, Hugh sent out anotherhollow, threatening owl call, "Hoot-ti-toot, toot, hoot-toot!" Theghostly voices repeated it, once, twice. Then he wailed and roared andtried to scream like a lynx. He was in the midst of the maniacal loonlaugh, when Blaise slipped through the trees to his side.
"They run away, my brother." The quick, flashing smile that marked him
asJean Beaupre's son crossed the boy's face. "They have turned their canoesand paddle full speed. The manitos you called up have frightened themaway. For a moment, before I understood what you were about, those spiritcries frightened me also."
"And you frightened me," Hugh confessed frankly, "when you shouted fromup there."
A grim expression replaced the lad's smile. "The farther canoe hadturned, but the first still came on, with Ohrante urging his braves. ThenI too played spirit! But let us go back and see if they still run away."
Hugh sent out another hoarse-voiced roar or two and Blaise added a warwhoop and a very good imitation of the angry cat scream of a lynx. Thenboth slipped hurriedly through the trees to the top of the island andsought the spot where they had first watched the approaching canoes. Thecanoes were still visible, but farther away and moving rapidly down thebay.
"They think this a bay of demons," Hugh chuckled. "The echoes served uswell. But what was it you said to them, Blaise?"
"I said, 'Beware! Come no farther or you die, every man!' They heard andheld their paddles motionless. Then I said, 'Beware of the manitos ofMinong, O Ohrante, murderer of our white son, Jean Beaupre.'"
"Blaise, I believe it _was_ Ohrante who killed father."
"I know not. The thought came into my head that if he was the man hemight be frightened if he heard that the manitos knew of the deed. And hewas frightened."
"Did he order the canoe turned?"
"I heard no order. He sat quite still. He made no move to stay his menwhen they turned the canoe about. Ohrante is a bold man, yet he wasfrightened. That I know."
"Was it one of those canoes we saw yesterday, do you think?"
"It may be, but Ohrante was not in it. He is so big, far away though theywere, we should have seen him."
"We couldn't have helped seeing him. I wonder if they came around the endof the long point. How could they in such a sea?"
"It may be that the waves have gone down out there. See how still thewater is in here now."
"Then we can start for the mainland. We must go back. The canoes are outof sight."
"No, no, that would be folly. If they go straight out of this bay allwill be well, but we know not where they go or how far or where they maylie in wait. No, no, Hugh, we have frightened them away from this spot,but we dare not leave it ourselves until darkness comes."