A Boy of the Dominion: A Tale of Canadian Immigration

  CHAPTER X

  A Hand-to-hand Encounter

  While Joe lies senseless in the depths of the forest, lost entirely tohis friends, and in as desperate a condition as he well could be, itwill be as well to follow the footsteps of Mike and Hank as they dashedaway in pursuit of Hurley. Both were well accustomed to the muskegsand the timbered lands of Canada, and, if only the truth were known,had before now been engaged in a similar expedition. But following amurderer during the daytime through such a place, and at a sedate pace,was entirely different from the same attempt at night, and all thewhile at such speed that precautions could not be taken.

  "Ef that ain't the third time I've barged into a tree trunk and nearhad all the breath knocked out of my body," growled Mike, when he hadprogressed a mile, and was still well behind Hank. "Seems to me thatwe should ha' done better to sit down and wait till morning, or litpine knots and then followed. Hank may do it; I shan't. This forestfairly beats me."

  But Mike was a man possessed of wonderful perseverance and tenacity,and, in spite of the numerous occasions on which he blundered intotrees, he held to the chase till he also, like Joe, lost his comrade.He stood listening for a sound to tell him where Hank was stridingbetween the trees, then, hearing nothing after quite a long wait, thewary and experienced Mike sat down in the most comfortable attitude hecould assume, dragged his ever-faithful pipe from his pocket, and,having filled and lit the weed, puffed away philosophically.

  "Hurley ain't got nothing to fear from me, that's certain," he toldhimself, not without some amount of disappointment and bitterness."But Hank is the boy to keep him running. The little chap is thathard, he could keep at it all night and right into to-morrow, and he'llstick to his man unless something clean throws him off the scent. Forme, reckon I'm trapped here. I'll have a smoke and then a sleep.Early in the morning I'll consider things, and then push on or makeback to the hut, as seems best."

  Meanwhile Hank slid through the forest as only a practised hunter couldhave done. It was on this night expedition that he proved his worth,as also the value of an early training. For while Mike dashed so oftenagainst a tree, and we know that Joe had done so to his own injury,Hank seemed intuitively to know when a low-hung branch stretched acrossthe path he was following. More than that, somehow he contrived tokeep directly on the trail which Hurley was making.

  "I'm getting closer," he told himself, when a whole hour had passed."Any time now Hurley'll turn, and then, ef he don't climb down and cryout that he's beaten, I'll have to put lead into his carcass. That'shim 'way ahead, making as much noise as a bull would ef he wasgallopin' through the forest."

  Loud bangs and crashes indeed told of Hurley's presence, for the treescarried every sound, and accentuated most. It may be imagined,therefore, that the sudden cessation of all noise astonished Hankconsiderably.

  "Eh?" he asked himself, coming to a halt and standing perfectly stillso as to listen the better. Not that Hank's breath was coming fast, asin the case of our hero; no, he was not even panting. His heart beatswere scarcely increased in number in spite of his exertions, which onlywent to prove that constant training, correct diet, a good digestion,and a happy and contented mind are advantages possessed by men such asHank who live their lives in the open. "Not so much as a sound," hetold himself. "Now, what has happened? Seems to me likely that Hurleyaer turned and ha' got his gun ready fer shootin'. Wall, an old birdsame as me don't get frightened jest because lead may be flyin'. Itwants a clever or a lucky man to make a hit in the darkness, speciallywhen there's tree trunks all round to give a fellow cover. I'm goingto move forward."

  He drew back the hammer of his gun, for Hank was a conservative littlefellow.

  "None of yer new-fangled guns fer me," he had said more than once."Mind you, I 'low as the new 'uns is fine, and has many advantages. Achap can load and fire twenty times perhaps while I am fiddling withthis trigger. 'Sides, I've one myself, and know 'em well. But efthere ain't likely to be quick firin', give me this old thing."

  Gripping the weapon in one hand, he bent double and went on stealthily,and in five minutes he had gained some fifty paces. But of Hurleythere was no sign. The murderer gave no signal which told of hiswhereabouts, and though Hank stole on farther, still there was nothingto indicate where Hurley had got to.

  "Fair beats the band," growled Hank, beginning to doubt his own powersof trackin'. "I'm past the spot where I last heard him, and I'm deadsure he ain't been within ten yards. Hurley aer a town man, and I'mgame to say as he couldn't have sat so still as I should miss him.This fair puzzles me--oh!"

  His keen ear heard something towards the left, then again there wassilence, save for the murmur of the breeze playing amongst the leavesoverhead. Hank slid in that direction promptly, only again he gave agasp of astonishment, and finally one of extreme annoyance; for itseemed that he had missed Hurley's new path by but a very little. Itis not to be wondered at that he had not always been able to follow theexact steps which the fugitive had taken, for he was tracking now notby signs conveyed to him by leaves and sticks and bushes, but by soundalone--the noise of the murderer as he broke his way through theunderwood. When that had ceased, Hank had lost direction slightly. Hehad turned just a little to the right, whereas to the left, whereHurley had passed, there was a curious clearing. It was a broad glade,in fact the same through which the falling sun had sent its glancingrays to the surface of the lake. Clear of trees, thickly covered withgrass, it offered a carpet which deadened all footsteps. No wonderthat Hank had heard nothing. It was a fortunate matter, indeed, thatsome slight sound, perhaps his boot striking a pebble, had shownHurley's position. Hank bounded into the glade as if he had been shotout of the forest.

  "Thunder!" he growled. "Ef that ain't the cutest move of any as he'spractised! He's made back towards the lake, that's fer certain. Thereain't no use in waitin'."

  Once more his gun was trailed, and this time, bent less low thanformerly, the little hunter went speeding off in the direction Hurleyhad taken. Nor did the darkness trouble him, for whereas amongst thetrees it had been intensely dark, here in the glade it wascomparatively light, and a man with eyes such as Hank possessed coulddetect every obstruction.

  We will leave him in pursuit of Hurley, and, having already shown Mikecalmly smoking in his leafy retreat, will once more visit our hero.Joe was in a sad way, and it was, without shadow of doubt, a boon tohim that collision with a tree knocked him senseless, for but a fewmoments before there had come to him that stupid, senseless frenzywhich comes to those who are lost. Even the brave man is not proofagainst that frenzy. Sudden, nameless terror snatches at him; the verysilence mocks him, while calmness and reason, virtues of which he maywell have been the proud possessor earlier, leave him as if he were aleper. Distraction, desperate and hopelessly unavailing effort follow,and finally there comes exhaustion. The unhappy wretch who is entirelylost may become calm when strength has left him, and die merely fromwant of food and water; but more often madness is the enemy whichfinally accounts for his ending.

  It was as well, therefore, for Joe that a severe blow on the head droveall sense and knowledge from him. He lay like a log for hours, and ifwe describe his condition faithfully, we must declare that the blow wasnot entirely responsible. Joe was fagged out with his long efforts; ithappened, therefore, that a deep, refreshing sleep followed upon theunconsciousness produced by collision, and carried him well on into themorning. The shaded rays of a risen sun were streaming in upon hisleafy prison when he finally opened his eyes.

  "Hallo! Hank!" he called, and, getting no reply, turned to stare abouthim. "My word, don't my head hurt just! Now, how's that? Why, if----Where am I?"

  His brain was still muddled, though wonderfully refreshed, and forquite a little while he sat thinking, trying to remember exactly whathad happened. Then the knowledge of his true position came to him--hewas lost in the forest.

  "And made a fine ass of myself, to be sure," he cried, remembering hisfear
s of the previous evening.

  "Lost my head; got scared at the silence, and then went barging rightand left. This is the dickens of a muddle. Here am I, goodness knowswhere. Anyway, in Canada, I'm dead certain."

  That set him laughing--for Joe was a merry fellow--moreover, the warmrays of the sun streaming down upon him, together with the fact thatthe past few days had accustomed him to his surroundings, cheered himwonderfully. He began to whistle, an old habit, and then recollectedthat he was hungry.

  "I'll be better for some food, that's certain," he told himself. "Ican't think properly as yet. But there's one thing I am sure of--Ibehaved like a child of two last night. I clean lost my head, and amjolly glad there wasn't anyone else here to watch me. My, how Hankwould laugh, and Fennick too! Wonder how he and his wife are doing,and Jim and Claude too. Wonder, also, whether Hurley's captured."

  Quite accidentally his hand fell into the bag which he had suspendedover his shoulder, and it was with a gasp of pleasure that heremembered that provisions were inside. Joe dragged them out, and,just to show his independence, gathered some sticks and lit a fire.Water was what he wanted now, and a search for that commodity told himstill more of his own condition of mind on the previous evening; forhis way took him along the track he had himself formed, and presentlyhe came to a part which looked very much as if a circus horse had beendriven there, and forced to carry out all sorts of evolutions. Tracksled through the underwood to right and left, crossed one another, andjoined sometimes so that two or three were side by side. In one hecame upon his rifle, a find which caused him pleasure; but where theoutlet was, in what direction he had been coming when he reached thisspot, Joe could discover not the smallest inkling.

  "Anyway, there's water," he said, filling the kettle which he carriedslung to his belt, and which had received a sad battering in theforest. "Jolly glad I've got the tea--that'll put life into me--thenI'll have to think this matter out; shouldn't wonder if a shot wouldn'tbring an answer."

  It was a brilliant idea, and cheered him wonderfully. Let us say, too,that Joe needed cheering. In spite of his undoubted courage, and of anaturally cheery disposition, the terror of the intense silence of hishuge prison sometimes almost got the better of him. It was with anobvious effort that he beat down the feeling. Retracing his steps tothe fire and busying himself with his cooking preparations helped himwonderfully, and when at length he had swallowed a hot cup of tea andhad eaten a couple of grilled slices of meat he felt distinctly better.

  "I'll try a shot now," he told himself, "then I'll think matters out.I wonder in what direction I came--beats me hollow."

  He was in the act of loading, for he had withdrawn the cartridge poppedinto his gun on the previous evening, when a sound suddenly reached hisears and caused him to sit bolt upright.

  "Eh?" he asked himself. "Hank or Mike or Fox perhaps. Hope so."

  There it was again, the noise made by a man thrusting a way through theunderwood. Joe gathered up his belongings, stamped out the fire, andwent off in that direction. Bang! Crash! He heard the noise time andagain, and getting nearer. It seemed, indeed, as if someone werecoming towards him. Perhaps five minutes later, when, convinced of thefact, he had thrown himself down to wait and watch, the figure of a mancame into view, seen somewhat indistinctly between the maze of leavesand branches.

  "Mike!" thought Joe. "About his size. No; too small, though it's abig man but less bulky than Mike. Can't be Hank. Then who is it?Hurley!"

  The knowledge that the murderer was actually before him sent a rush ofblood to Joe's head. His ears throbbed and buzzed, his pulses beatspasmodically, while his heart thundered against his ribs.

  "Hurley!"

  Joe climbed silently to his feet and raised his rifle. He now couldsee the man approaching him better, and could no longer have any doubtas to who it was. It was, without a question, the murderer whom he hadfought outside the shack in defence of Tom, the very man Hank and hisfellows, with Mike, the policeman, had been following now for such atime.

  "Hurley! Still escaping! Then Hank failed to get him! Where's hisgun?"

  Joe peered through the leaves and branches, and presently caught aglimpse of the weapon which it was known the murderer carried. He boreit before him, fending brambles away with it as he went. That gun, nodoubt, was loaded, and Hurley still able and willing to slay anyone whodared to intercept him. What was Joe to do? Let him go? Funk thebusiness, or call to him and chance a bullet?

  "Nasty thing if he hit me here; nobody would know. I might be badlywounded and help never reach me. Rotten that, very!"

  Joe shivered. We are describing his feelings and his actions with theutmost truth and fairness, and truth compels us to say that heshivered. He looked about him doubtfully, seeing nothing but leavesand waving branches and underwood, with the figure of a man he knew tobe already a murderer breaking a path through the forest quite near athand, while a rifle was borne prominently before him. Bear in mind,too, that Joe had had a terrifying experience already, that he stillbore a wound given by the bully, while his scalp was sore and his brainstill dizzy with the collisions he had experienced on the previousevening.

  "He'll miss me by fifteen feet," said Joe, measuring the distance withhis eye. "If I like to stay quiet he'll be by in a jiffy, andthen--then I'll be safe!"

  He could have kicked himself for the thought; the blood flew to hischeeks again and shamed him. He clenched his teeth and bobbed his headhigher.

  "Frightfully tempting to funk the meeting," he told himself wrathfully;"but I'll not be such a coward.

  "Hurley!" he shouted.

  The man stopped abruptly, his eyes shooting into sudden prominence.

  JOE SURPRISES HURLEY]

  "Hands up!" bellowed Joe, keeping well hidden. "Hands up or----"

  There was a loud report which reverberated through the wood, while arattle overhead told its tale unpleasantly. A shower of severed leavessprayed on to Joe's head, while he listened to a curious click withwhich soldiers are familiar.

  "Loading again--might get me next time. Shall I plug him?" he askedhimself.

  Very cautiously he lifted his rifle, and with it his head, which he hadducked at Hurley's shot. But where was the man? There was no sign ofhim. He had disappeared entirely.

  "Dropped down where he was, and is waiting and watching. Dead certainhe isn't moving," said Joe, "or I'd hear him. I'll wait and watch too."

  Presently his patience was rewarded. A black sleeve came intoview--only a tiny triangle showing--then the muzzle of the weapon. Joelevelled his own on the sleeve and called again loudly.

  "Drop that gun, Hurley," he shouted roughly, "or take the consequences!"

  The answer came so swiftly that he was astonished, and once again ourhero had the unpleasant feeling of a bullet passing within closedistance of him. Under the circumstances it required nerve to kneel alittle higher, take aim just a foot below the spot where he had seenthat sleeve, and press his own trigger. Then, like a dart, he sprangaway, and within a moment was located behind a stout birch tree, whichgave excellent cover.

  "Got him, I think," he gasped. "There was a shout directly I fired.Wonder if I killed him?"

  The thought set his ears tingling and a nasty cold feeling down thecentre of his back. Joe wasn't bloodthirsty by any means. He hatedthe very thought of killing a man; but here it was decidedly a case ofHurley or himself. Softness and pity would be thrown away on such avillain; the smallest advantage allowed would certainly end in his ownundoing. It was with the utmost caution, then, that our hero peepedout from behind cover, while his fingers were busily employed inthrusting a fresh cartridge into his rifle. Moreover, he listenedeagerly for any sound which might tell him that Hurley was moving. Joehad, in fact, an artful and cunning foe to deal with, and quickly foundthat he was very far from effecting his purpose, also that the murdererwas by no means likely to give in without a struggle. For as he peepedfrom behind the shelter of his tree a figure ros
e suddenly, a weaponwas fired, and at the same instant down went the figure.

  "Thunder!" he exclaimed, using an exclamation which Hank was in thehabit of employing. "That was a near one; chipped a nice little pieceout of the bark of the tree and--yes, perforated the butt of my rifle."

  Very cautiously he peered round the tree again, and then, with a suddenfeeling of elation, caught sight of a black object slowly rising abovethe undergrowth. Joe dropped his sights on it and pressed the triggersteadily; but, to his amazement, the black object continued to rise forthe space of a few seconds, then it dropped just as suddenly out ofview.

  "Huh!" he grunted. "A decoy! Lifted his coat on a stick and drew myfire. Two can play at that game."

  But even if he were to follow Hurley's example, caution and cunningwere still required. Joe dropped on to hands and knees and then spreadhimself face downwards on the ground. In that position he wormed hisway along some three yards to the right, where he again took coverbehind a tree, and on this occasion he lifted his head with thegreatest care.

  "He'll be watching the tree where I was located," he told himself, "andif I wait a little he'll show himself, seeing that I don't put in anappearance. Then will be the time to aim straight, for I am sure thatif I don't take the fullest advantage of every opportunity he willshoot me down."

  "That 'ere young cub that was the cause of most of my trouble," growledHurley, as he lay on the ground awaiting developments. "Wall, it mightha' been wuss; I kin knock him out easy ef I'm just ordinarilycautious, then there won't be no one in the way. I'll double the hullway back--that's what I'll do--get along to the railway, and board afreight train. Down by Niagara Falls there won't be no difficulty inhoppin' across the suspension bridge, and afore these fools is much thewiser I'll be hid up in Buffalo."

  His keen eye detected Joe's new position, and, watching closely, hesoon saw a portion of the latter's clothing projecting from behind thetree. Up went his rifle, and an instant later the clothing fell to theground. With a shout of triumph, Hurley stood to his feet, only todrop back again like a stone; for Joe was undamaged. He had merelyplayed Hurley's trick upon himself, and now that the opportunity hadcome to him, he stood out from cover and fired direct at the man.Unfortunately, however, he was too late, his bullet tearing on throughthe undergrowth.

  "The young cuss!" growled Hurley, startled by his narrow escape. "ButI'll get even with him yet. Ef he can play a game same as that, see mefoller."

  He thought it all out as he lay there in the underwood, and then onceagain selected a suitable portion of a fallen branch. This time it washis wide-brimmed hat which he raised slowly above the leaves and ferns.But though Hurley peered from amidst the tangle of boughs and leaves,he could see no sign of our hero. It was an intense surprise to himwhen there came a flash and a loud report from the left, from analtogether different position, while his hat twiddled round on thebranch he had thrust into it.

  "Jingo! He's shootin'!" he told himself, with a growl. "Lucky my headwarn't in there. But I ain't done, not by a long way. I'll try thetrick agin, and then I fancy I shall have a surprise fer that 'ereBritisher."

  Very slowly he proceeded to elevate his hat again, and this time sosoon after the last that he guessed that Joe would hardly have had timeto change his position. So that it was again a shock to find a bulletswishing rather from the right. However, Hurley was a man with an ironnerve; moreover, he knew what awaited him should he be captured.Straightway leaping to his feet and trusting to Joe not having had timeto reload, he dashed into the bush and, seeing our hero, threw himselfupon him furiously. Nor did he deign to make use of his own weapon.Dropping it as if it were no longer of use, he gripped Joe with bothhands and, swinging him aloft as he had done once before, he preparedto hurl him against a tree. Indeed, he almost carried out thatintention; but Joe managed to curl in his legs and so escape.

  "You're jest about dead this time," gasped Hurley. "You'd have donefar better to have stayed right at home with the kids, which are yerplace, than have come out here to take grown men. That'll finish it."

  But the second swing he gave didn't finish the matter. Joe was atougher foe to deal with than Hurley imagined, for, locking his armsround the murderer, he defied his every effort to lift him. But allthe while he was conscious of the fact that the man was a great dealstronger than he, and that unless he could deal him a vital blow, hisown chances were far from good. It was at this critical moment, whenthe two were once more struggling fiercely and had rolled to theground, that a man came darting through the underwood. Dashing up tothe combatants, he placed the muzzle of his old gun against themurderer's head and called loudly on him to surrender.

  "You may jest as well throw it up, Hurley," he said, with wonderfulcoolness, "fer I guess you're cornered. 'Sides, ef you're troublesomeyou're like to get the sort o' dustin' a feller don't take to kindly.So jest turn it up. Joe, get a hold of his rifle. Now, my man, youstand there agin the tree and don't try hanky-panky. I ain'tparticular whether it's the law that deals with yer or me. Savvy?"

  Hurley did; he unloosed his grip of our hero promptly and, now that thetables were turned, stood cowed and subdued in front of Hank, eyeinghis old muzzle-loader askance. As for Hank, he grinned at Joe.

  "It war a near call, lad," he said. "Strange that it should be you asreally cornered him. But keep yer eye on him and yer finger on yourtrigger. There ain't never no saying when he'll be up to games, thoughit won't be often he'll play 'em once Mike's up. He could lift thishulkin' feller as ef he war a baby, and my, wouldn't he give him sauce!"

  Some twenty minutes later Fox put in an appearance, and after him Mike.Hurley was promptly secured, his hands being bound behind his back, forMike had lost his handcuffs, while a stout cord was passed from thelashings and secured to Fox's wrist. Then the party wended their waythrough the forest, and in a wonderfully short space of time came tothe hut in which Hurley had taken refuge. Here their comrades joinedthem in the evening.

  "It war a close call," said Peter, when he had heard of Joe'sadventure; "but I ain't quite clear as to how it come about that youwas out there in the forest all alone. Spin us the yarn."

  "I was lost, that's the simple explanation," answered Joe, telling themhow he had dashed hither and thither in a frenzy, and how a collisionwith a tree had in the end sent him senseless to the ground. "And amighty big bump I've got to show for it," he added ruefully.

  "You're jest mighty lucky to have one to show at all, young feller,"growled Hank. "I ain't been in these parts without meeting withsimilar cases. I've known young fellers, and oldish men too, go offinto the timber and never come back. I've seed a ghost of one crawlback after a week, and he as mad as a hatter. What's more, I know whatthe feelin' of bein' lost is. An old hunter same as me don't neverfeel like that. When I war young it war different. Nowadays I couldfind my way out anywhere. I'd do as you did, doss down fer thenight--so I reckon that blow you got war lucky,--then, when morningcame, I'd watch fer the sun, and I'd go ahead always in one direction;but it seems to me as ef supper war ready."

  "One moment," said Joe. "How was it you came upon the scene soopportunely, Hank?"

  "How? Jest like this, and simple enough. This 'ere Hurley give me theslip, and shot out into a glade. Wall, a bit of a rattle as he passedover a stony patch told me the direction he had taken, and precioussoon I had picked up his traces again. Seems he took to the lake,straddling a log he found there and pushing out. But the wind war onthis shore and brought him back. Early this mornin' I dropped on histraces and found as he'd turned south. Mike come along with Fox at thesame moment, and reckon we set out fer all we war worth. It war thenthat we heard a shot, and then others. That set me movin', and--wall,that's all."

  He closed up like an oyster, and actually blushed when Joe continued."Not all, Hank," he said earnestly; "you saved my life. I'm grateful."

  "Gee! Ef I ain't that hungry!" shouted Hank, springing to his feethurriedly. "George, ain't you
got them steaks frizzled yet?"

  "Ready," came the answer, while George held a stick to which the steakswere skewered aloft.

  "Then we'll eat," growled Hank, as if he had recently had a quarrelwith our hero; "and mind, there ain't no more gassin'."

  "He aer fair set on you," whispered Peter, after the meal, taking Joeaside. "He knew you was in trouble, and I tell you he wouldn't rest.All night he war searchin' for your traces, and ef he hadn't bustled,guess he'd have reached you too late. Hank aer the queerest littlemorsel as ever I set eyes on."

  "He's a fine fellow," declared Joe eagerly. "Some day I'll get evenwith him."

  The following morning they mounted again, and in due course reached thesettlements, where the party divided.

  "Hank's comin' along to stay with us," said Peter. "How's that, young'un?"

  "Ripping!" Joe meant it; he had taken a huge fancy to the littlehunter, and hoped, if he were lucky, to learn a great deal more fromhim.

  "You'll do that right enough," laughed Peter, when our hero told him."Hank aer a troublesome feller. It ain't often that I hear of him thathe ain't been in some adventure. Jest you watch to see that he don'tdrag you in too. I don't altogether trust the little varmint."

  "Drat the man!" exclaimed Mrs. Strike. "Joe was a steady worker aforehe came here; but now, bless us! he's always wantin' to be off into thewilds and forests."

  And go Joe did. He worked all through the summer and autumn, helpingPeter to get in his harvest, and learning much about farming; then,leaving Tom, the lad for whom he had fought, as Peter's man in hisplace, he packed his bag and rode off with Hank on a prospectingexpedition.