The Cryptogram: A Story of Northwest Canada

  CHAPTER XXXVI.

  A PAINFUL MYSTERY.

  But how and where should we seek shelter? Each man, I am sure, askedhimself that question uneasily, and the quest grew more hopeless as wegroped our way on for a quarter of an hour, our faces set against thestinging cold wind and the biting snowflakes. Arnold was leading, and Iwas some distance back, trudging alongside of Flora, and trying to keepup her spirits.

  But good fortune befell us when we least expected it. Exhausted andhalf-blinded, we suddenly emerged from the tangled forest on a bit of anopen space. Before us was the bed of a frozen stream, now filled up withdrifted snow, and from the farther side of it a hill towered steeply,affording almost complete protection from the violence of the wind. Ashort distance on our left, nestled at the base of another hill, was alittle Indian village, long since deserted--a dozen tepees half-buriedin the snow, a couple of canoe frames protruding from a drift, and someworn-out snowshoes hanging from a tree.

  "By Jupiter! I know the spot," cried Tom Arnold, in a tone ofconsternation and astonishment. "I remember the village and the stream!Why, men, we are away out of our reckoning--on the wrong tackaltogether. This shows how easily a fellow can get lost in a blizzard,no matter how old a hand he is."

  "We're in luck, anyway," said I. "Here is decent shelter, and the hillskeep off the worst of the storm. We are safe for the night."

  "And Fort Charter twenty miles away!" grumbled Arnold. "We've got toreach it to-morrow, come good weather or bad. All hands to work," headded sharply. "We'll make things as snug as possible."

  We set to with a will and the exercise soon warmed our sluggish blood.Some dug out the canoe frames and broke them up for fuel; others clearedthe loose snow from half a dozen of the huts, and we were delighted tofind them dry inside, and in sound condition. We did not hesitate tobuild a roaring fire, for we knew that the light could not be seen atany distance, and that if any hostile Indians were in the vicinity thestorm would have driven them to camp.

  Twilight was falling when we found the abandoned village, and theevening was well advanced by the time our preparations were completed.We cooked and ate supper, and then sat smoking for awhile about thefire. The best of the tepees had been assigned to Flora, and she retiredimmediately after the meal. The storm was still raging and the snowfalling thickly, but our camp was so sheltered by the two great hillsthat we were almost as comfortable as we had been at Fort Beaver. Yetonly a short distance away, to right and left, we could hear the windshrieking and howling through the open wilderness.

  "We had better be turning in, so we can make an early start," Tom Arnoldsaid finally. "My arm is stiff and sore, and I can't sit up any longer.How about sentry duty?"

  "We mustn't neglect that," replied Captain Rudstone. "I volunteer forthe first watch."

  The matter was quickly settled. There were to be three watches, Carteretfollowing the captain, and a Fort Charter man named Humphrey taking thelast turn. The orders were to pace a short distance right and left ofthe camp at intervals, and to keep up the fire; each sentry was to rousethe next man at the proper time.

  We smoked a last pipe, and turned in leaving Captain Rudstone on guard.We were divided into batches of four, and those who shared my tepee withme were Christopher Burley, Luke Hutter and Duncan Forbes. We huddledclose together, wrapped in blankets, and I for one was so tired out thatI fell asleep instantly.

  I remember nothing more until I was roused, after what seemed a shortinterval, by a husky shout and a spluttering of angry words. The noisewas enough to waken the whole camp, and indeed it did so with amazingrapidity. I rushed outside in alarm, followed by my companions. The graydawn was breaking, and the air was free of snow. The rest of the menwere pouring from the tepees, rubbing their drowsy eyes and fumblingwith their muskets. I saw Flora's face, flushed and frightened, peepingfrom the little doorway of her hut. We all gathered round Tom Arnold,who was pointing to a heap of dead ashes--what was left of the fire.

  "We might have been murdered in our sleep!" he cried savagely. "Who's toblame for this cursed carelessness? I turned out a minute ago, and lookwhat I find! Nobody on guard, and the fire burned to ashes! Humphrey,you scoundrel, you had the last watch! What have you got to say foryourself?"

  "I--I wasn't roused, sir," stammered Humphrey. "It was Carteret's placeto do that."

  "How could I do it when I wasn't wakened myself?" exclaimed Carteret."Naturally I slept sound, thinking I would be called in time."

  "Just my case," added Humphrey in an aggrieved tone.

  "Then Captain Rudstone is the man!" cried Arnold. "Where is he?"

  Where indeed? We suddenly became aware that the captain was not amongus. We shouted and called his name, but no answer came back. We lookedinto all the tepees, and found them empty. It was a deep mystery, andour alarm and wonder increased. We glanced at one another with startledand anxious faces. None could throw light on the matter; we had allslept soundly through the night. I questioned Flora, but she was nowiser than the rest of us.

  "It's the queerest thing I ever heard of," said Arnold. "The man can'thave been spirited away."

  "Perhaps an Indian crept up and tomahawked him," suggested MalcolmCameron, "and he's lying yonder under the snow."

  "No; that is out of the question," said I. "Captain Rudstone could nothave been caught off his guard."

  "It's my opinion," declared Arnold, "that he heard some noise in theforest and went to see what it was. He wandered farther from camp thanhe intended, and got lost in the storm--you can see by the depth of thesnow that the blizzard didn't hold up till near morning--and ten to onehe's lying stiff and dead under a drift. We'll search for him till themiddle of the morning, and if we don't find him by then, we must be offto the fort while the weather permits."

  Arnold's reasoning was not very sound, but no one could offer a moreplausible solution to the mystery. While breakfast was preparing some ofus fruitlessly explored the vicinity of the camp, and a little later,having fortified ourselves with food and hot coffee, we set off on amore extended search. Christopher Burley and three other men stayedbehind with Flora; the rest, divided into four parties, went in as manydifferent directions.

  To cut a long tale short, our efforts proved of no avail. One afteranother the search parties returned--the last one arriving an hourbefore noon--and all had the same story to tell. The ground had beencarefully gone over within a radius of several miles from camp, butCaptain Rudstone had disappeared without leaving a trace behind him.That Arnold's theory was correct--that the unfortunate man lay deadunder one of the mighty drifts that had formed while the storm raged inthe night--we all believed. That he could have voluntarily deserted uswas out of the question.

  "It would be no use to hunt any longer," said Arnold, "even if we hadthe time to spare. Perhaps next spring, when the snow melts, sometrapper or hunter will find the body and give it decent burial."

  So, after a sad and hurried dinner, we packed up and resumed ourjourney. The weather held good, and about midnight we arrived safely atFort Charter.

  I will make but brief mention of our stop at the fort, where we werereceived and treated with the utmost kindness. As for Captain Rudstone,I need only say that I had grown sincerely attached to him, and felt hisloss deeply. Not a scrap of news was waiting for us on our arrival. Nocouriers had come in, and what was taking place in the North, or whetherAndrew Menzies and his party had reached Fort Elk, were matters ofconjecture. One keen disappointment I had. Contrary to expectation,there was no priest at Fort Charter, so my marriage with Flora had to beput off indefinitely, as I feared at the time.

  But something happened shortly to raise my spirits. The factor of thefort decided to send word down to Fort Garry of the Indian rising andthe loss of Fort Royal, and I gladly consented to be his messenger.Moreover, since an attack was far from improbable, and the post wasweak, two of the officers seized this opportunity to dispatch theirwives to the South, believing from the reports they had
heard that thecountry was safe in that direction.

  Preparations were pushed forward, and just three days after our arrivalwe started on our long march of five hundred miles to Fort Garry throughthe dead of winter. We numbered fifteen in all, including Flora, and twoother women. Christopher Burley, Baptiste and Carteret, and Luke Hutterwere of the party. We were well provided with all that wasneedful--sledges and dogs, provisions and firearms.