CHAPTER XIX
THE DESERTED TEPEES
Starting at daybreak, they reached a hillside overlooking the Stonyvillage on the third afternoon. Surrounded by willows and raggedspruces, the conical tepees rose in the plain beneath, but Blakestopped abruptly as he caught sight of them. They were white to theapex, where the escaping heat of the fire within generally melted thesnow, and no curl of smoke floated across the clearing. The villagewas ominously silent and had a deserted look.
"I'm very much afraid Clarke's friends are not at home," Blake saidwith forced calm. "We'll know more about it in half an hour; that is,if you think it worth while to go down."
Harding and Benson were silent a moment, struggling with theirdisappointment. They had made a toilsome journey to reach the village,their food was nearly exhausted, and it would cost them two days toreturn to the valley, which was their best road to the south.
"Now that we're here, we may as well spend another hour over the job,"Harding decided. "It's possible they haven't packed all their foodalong."
His companions suspected that they were wasting time, but they followedhim down the hill, until Benson, who was a short distance to one sideof them, called out. When they joined him he indicated a row offootsteps leading up the slope.
"That fellow hasn't been gone very long; there was snow yesterday," hesaid. "By the line he took, he must have passed near us. I wonder whyhe stayed on after the others."
Blake examined the footsteps carefully, and compared them with theimpress of his own snowshoes.
"It's obvious that they can't be older than yesterday afternoon," hesaid. "From their depth and sharpness, I should judge that the fellowwas carrying a good load, which probably means that he meant to be gonesome time. The stride suggests a white man."
"Clarke," said Harding. "He seems to be up here pretty often; though Ican't see how he'd do much prospecting in the winter."
"It's possible," Blake replied. "But I'm anxious to find out whetherthere's anything to eat in the tepees."
They hurried on, and when they reached the village they discovered onlya few skins in the first tent. Then, separating, they eagerly searchedthe others without result, and when they met again they were forced tothe conclusion that there was no food in the place. It was about threeo'clock, and a threatening afternoon. The light was dim and a savagewind blew the snow about. The three men stood with gloomy faces in theshelter of the largest tepee, feeling that luck was hard against them.
"These northern Indians often have to put up with short rations whilethe snow lies," Benson remarked. "No doubt, they set off for someplace where game's more plentiful when they found their grub runningout; and as they've all gone the chances are that they won't come backsoon. We've had our trouble, for nothing, but we may as well camphere. With a big fire going, one could make this tepee warm."
Blake and Harding felt strongly tempted to agree. The cold had beenextreme the last few nights, and, weary and scantily fed as they were,they craved shelter. Still they had misgivings.
"We have wasted too much time already," Blake said with an effort; "andthere's only a few days' rations in the bag. We have got to get backto the valley, and we ought to make another three hours' march, beforewe stop."
"Yes," Harding slowly assented; "I guess that would be wiser."
Setting off at once, they wearily struggled up the hill; and it hadbeen dark some time when they made camp in a hollow at the foot of agreat rock. The rock kept off the wind, and the spruces which grewclose about it further sheltered them, but Blake told his companions tothrow up a snow bank while he cut wood.
"I'm afraid we're going to have an unusually bad night, and we may aswell take precautions," he said.
His forecast proved correct, for soon after they had finished supper acloud of snow swept past the hollow, and the spruces roared among therocks above. Then there was a crash and the top of a shattered treeplunged down between the men and fell on the edge of the fire,scattering a shower of sparks.
"Another foot would have made a difference to two of us," Harding saidcoolly. "However, it's fallen where it was wanted; help me heave thething on."
It crackled fiercely as the flame licked about it. Sitting between thesnowbank and the fire, the men kept fairly warm, but a white haze drovepast their shelter and, eddying in now and then, covered them withsnow. In an hour the drifts were level with the top of the bank, butthis was a protection, and they were thankful that they had found sucha camping place, for death would have been the consequence of beingcaught in the open. The blizzard gathered strength, but though theyheard the crash of broken trees through the roar of the wind no morelogs fell, and after a while they went to sleep, secure in the shelterof the rock.
When day broke it was long past the usual hour, and the cloud ofdriving flakes obscured even the spruces a few yards away. The hollowat the foot of the crag was shadowy, and the snow had piled up severalfeet above the bank, and lapped over at one end. Still, with woodenough, they could keep warm; and had their supplies been larger theywould have been content to rest. As things were, however, they wereconfronted with perhaps the gravest peril that threatens the travelerin the North--the possibility of being detained by bad weather untiltheir food ran out. None of them spoke of this, but by tacit agreementthey made a very sparing breakfast, and ate nothing at noon. Whennight came, and the storm still raged, their hearts were very heavy.
It lasted three days, and on the fourth morning it seemed scarcelypossible to face the somewhat lighter wind and break a trail throughthe fresh snow. However, they dare risk no further delay. Strappingon their packs, they struggled up the range. At nightfall they werehigh among the rocks, and it was piercingly cold, but they got a fewhours' sleep in a clump of junipers, and struck the valley late thenext day. Finding shelter, they made camp, and after dividing a smallbannock between them they sat talking gloomily. Their fire had beenlighted to lee of a cluster of willows, and it burned sulkily becausethe wood was green. Pungent smoke curled about them, and they shiveredin the draughts.
"How far do you make it to the logging camp?" Benson asked. "I'mtaking it for granted that the lumber gang's still there."
"A hundred and sixty miles," said Blake. "And we have food enough fortwo days; say forty miles."
"About that; it depends on the snow."
Benson made no answer, and Harding was silent a while, sitting verystill with knitted brows.
"I can't see any way out," he said at last. "Can you?"
"Well," Blake answered quietly, "we'll go on as long as we are able.Though I haven't had a rosy time, I have faith in my luck."
Conversation languished after this. The men had a small cake oftobacco left, and they sat smoking and hiding their fears while thewind moaned among the willows and thin snow blew past. The camp wasexposed, and, hungry and dejected as they were, they felt the stingingcold. After an hour of moody silence, Harding suddenly leaned forward,with a lifted hand.
"What's that?" he said sharply. "Didn't you hear it?"
For a few moments they heard only the rustle of the willows and theswishing sound of driven snow; then a faint patter caught their ears,and a crack like the snapping of a whip.
"A dog team!" cried Benson.
Springing to his feet, he set up a loud shout. It was answered inEnglish; and while they stood, shaken by excitement and intense relief,several low shadowy shapes emerged from the gloom; then a tall figureappeared, and after it two more. Somebody shouted harsh orders inuncouth French; the dogs sped toward the fire and stopped. Theirdriver, hurrying after them, began to loose the traces, while anotherman walked up to Blake.
"We saw your fire and thought we'd make for it," he explained. "I seeyour cooking outfit's still lying round."
"It's at your service," Blake responded. "I'm sorry we can't offer youmuch supper, though there's a bit of a bannock and some flour."
"We'll soon fix that," the man declared. "Guess you're up against it
,but our grub's holding out." He turned to the driver. "Come and tendto the cooking when you're through, Emile."
Though the order was given good-humoredly, there was a hint ofauthority in his voice, and the man to whom he spoke quickened hismovements. Then another man came up, and while the dogs snapped ateach other, and rolled in the snow, the half-breed driver unloaded aheavy provision bag and filled Harding's frying-pan.
"Don't spare it," said the first comer. "I guess these men are hungry;fix up your best menoo."
Sitting down by the fire, shapeless in his whitened coat, with hisbronzed face half hidden by his big fur cap, he had nevertheless asoldierly look.
"You're wondering who we are?" he asked genially.
"Oh, no," Blake smiled. "I can make a guess; there's a stamp on you Irecognize. You're from Regina."
"You've hit it first time. I'm Sergeant Lane, R.N.W.M.P. This"--heindicated his companion--"is Private Walthew. We've been up on aspecial patrol to Copper Lake, and left two of the boys there to makesome inquiries about the Indians. Now we're on the back trail."
He looked as if he expected the others to return his confidence, andBlake had no hesitation about doing so. He knew the high reputation ofthe Royal North-West Mounted Police, a force of well-mounted andcarefully chosen frontier cavalry. Its business is to keep order on avast stretch of plain, to watch over adventurous settlers who push outahead of the advancing farming community, and to keep a keen eye on thereservation Indians. Men from widely different walks of life serve inits ranks, and the private history of each squadron is rich in romance,but one and all are called upon to scour the windy plains in the saddlein the fierce summer heat and to make adventurous sled journeys acrossthe winter snow. Their patrols search the lonely North from Hudson Bayto the Mackenzie, living in the open in arctic weather; and thepeaceful progress of western Canada is due largely to their unrelaxingvigilance, Blake gave them a short account of their journey andexplained his party's present straits.
"Well," said the Sergeant, "I figure that we have provisions enough tosee us down to the settlements all right, and we'll be glad of yourcompany. The stronger the party, the smoother the trail; and afterwhat you've told me, I guess you can march."
"Where did you find the half-breed?" Benson asked. "Your chiefs atRegina don't allow you hired packers."
"They surely don't. He's a Hudson Bay man, working his passage. Goingback to his friends somewhere about Lake Winnipeg, and decided he'dcome south with us and take the cars to Selkirk. I was glad to gethim; I'm not smart at driving dogs."
"We found it hard to understand the few Indians we met," said Harding."The farther north you go, the worse it must be. How will the fellowsyou left up yonder get on?"
The Sergeant laughed.
"When we want a thing done, we can find a man in the force fit for thejob. One of the boys I took up can talk to them in Cree or Assiniboin;and it wouldn't beat us if they spoke Hebrew or Greek. There's atrooper in my detachment who knows both."
Benson did not doubt this. He turned to Private Walthew, whose face,upon which the firelight fell, suggested intelligence and refinement.
"What do you specialize in?"
"Farriery," answered the young man, he might have added thatextravagance had cut short his career as veterinary surgeon in the oldcountry.
"Knows a horse all over, outside and in," Sergeant Lane interposed. "Iallow that's why they sent him when I asked for a good dog driver,though in a general way our bosses aren't given to joking. Walthewwill tell you there's a difference between physicking a horse andharnessing a sled team."
"It's marked," Walthew agreed with a chuckle. "When I first tried toput the traces on I thought they'd eat me. Even now I have sometrouble; and I'll venture to remind my superior that he'd be short ofsome of his fingers if they didn't serve us out good thick mittens."
"That's right," admitted Lane good-humoredly. "I'm sure no good atdogs. If you're going to drive them, you want to speak Karalit orFrench. Plain English cussin's no blame use."
Emile announced that supper was ready, and the police watched their newacquaintances devour it with sympathetic understanding, for they hadmore than once covered long distances on very short rations in thearctic frost. Afterward they lighted their pipes, and Emile, beingtactfully encouraged, told them in broken English stories of thebarrens. These were so strange and gruesome that it was only becausethey had learned something of the wilds that Harding and his friendscould believe him. Had they been less experienced, they would havedenied that flesh and blood could bear the things the half-breed calmlytalked about.
While Emile spoke, there broke out behind the camp a sudden radiancewhich leaped from the horizon far up the sky. It had in it thescintillation of the diamond, for the flickering brilliance changedfrom pure white light to evanescent blue and rose. Spreading in avast, irregular arc, it hung like a curtain, wavering to and fro andcasting off luminous spears that stabbed the dark. For a time itblazed in transcendental splendor, then faded and receded, dying outwith unearthly glimmering far back in the lonely North.
"That's pretty fine," Lane commented mildly.
Blake smiled, but made no answer. He and his comrades were gettingdrowsy, and although a stinging wind swept the camp and the green woodburned badly, they were filled with a serene content. The keen bodilycraving was satisfied; they had eaten and could sleep; and it looked asif their troubles were over. The dogs were obviously fit for travel,for they were still engaged in a vigorous quarrel over some cariboubones; the toil of the journey would be lightened by carrying theirloads on the sled; and the party was strong enough to assist any memberof it whose strength might give way. There was no reason to apprehendany difficulty in reaching the settlements; and in their relief at theunexpected rescue their thoughts went no farther. After the hunger andthe nervous strain they had borne, they were blissfully satisfied withtheir present ease. There would be time enough to consider the future.
Sergeant Lane got up and shook the snow from his blanket.
"I've seen a better fire, boys, but I've camped with none at all on ascold a night," he said. "So far as I can figure, we have grub enough;but now that there are three more of us we don't want to lose time.You'll be ready to pull out by seven in the morning."
They lay down in the most comfortable places they could find, and sleptsoundly, although once during the night Harding was awakened by a dogthat crept up to him for warmth.