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I I Opposing pages with varying colouration or ' — ' discolourations are filmed twice to ensure the best possible image / Les pages s'opposant ayant des colorations variat>les ou des decol- orations sont film^es deux fois afin d'obtenir la meilleur image possible. D Additkinal comments / Commentaires suppl^mentaiies: Tliii ittin is f ilmad it GRAY WOLF By DILLON WALLACE Tli«G»untGt»yiroB, llluilrited. umo, """' Nel»i.35 neart of Labrador which rcaultid in tha d*ath of Laonidu, Hubbard. Jr. "uniava S^h" Jara makaa a walcoi. raappMranoa and U i«»v» Bob- A T»l« of tlu Fuf Ti»o- tm. Illustrated ™ . Net Jrij the ino« anxagliiK of the aort I taava avar raad It li an honaat atory, but aa aDDaallnV in th. "^ ^"« "f ^ Ubndor •WU. The Mory of the Exploring Expedition con- ducted by Leonidas Hubbard, Jr. Illus- trations and Maps. 8vo, cloth. Net»i.5o ..j^ ""V P'oduced one of tha moat (ranhlc and moving alorlea of adventure that w. have matlcand devout as It a pathetic. Here lea o(';°„'«.hI;' ^<'■<'• °". •• action ".^verwou'd* fdA^^JlV"? n*S't *"'' heroiam shown, for an "They were startled liv dozen Indians, guns l.lood-curdlinK who„ps. and a half- leiellfd. rose upon the shore" Caunt Gniy W^Ai' '.; A:- ■. >!thrc .citr ■ I p;f,,^_-a i;.J, ^'- i^u;'t<-d ^■■•-a!r>,ii n. a:\a! ,^,!lH,an^ A ■.- /! h '■! ' r r ((-, %^5«^Jii ..!-.rr,:!;,^ ,. I The Gaunt Gray Wolf A Tale of Adventure with " Ungava Bob " BY DILLON WALLACE Author of " The Lure of the Labrador Wild," "Ungava Bob," etc., etc. Illustrated Niw ToRx Cricaoo Toronto Fleming H. Revell Company LoxDOK iuD EoiNauaoH Copyright, 1914, by FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY New York: 158 Fifth Avenue Chicago: 125 N. Wabash Ave. Toronto: 25 Richmond St., W. London: it Paternoster Square Edinburgh: 100 Princei Street 900503 I. n. m. IV. V. VI. vn, vin. IX. X. XL xn. xin. XIV. XV. CONTENTS Shad Tbowbbidoe op Boston The Lube op the Wildebness . Ungava Bob Makes A Rescue . Away to the Tbaos In the Fab Wildebness Old Fbiends .... Whebb the Evil Spibtts Dwell Apteb the Indun Attack The Indian Maiden at the Biveb Tilt . The Voices op the Spirits Manikawan's Vengeance The Tbaoedy op the Raptos . On the Trail op the Indians . The Matohi Manitu Is Cheat- ed .. _ The Passing op the Wild Things 9 17 31 48 65 79 84 98 112 122 131 139 152 165 180 6 XVI. XVII. xvin. XIX. XX. XXI. XXII. XXIII. xxrv. XXV. XXVI. xxvn. xxvin. XXIX. CONTENTS Alone with the Indians ChbISTMAS at the Eiveb TttT The Spibit op Death Gbows Bold . The Cache on the Lake The Folk at Wolf Bioht The Eipled Cache Manika WAN's Sacrifice . Tumbled Aib Castles The Messengee A Mission op Life and Death . " Qbeateb Love Hath No Man Than This " . Shad's Tbibute to the Indun Maiden Tbowbbtoge and Gbay, Tbadebs The Fbuit op Manikawan's Sacbifice 190 197 207 215 227 239 248 255 269 274 279 286 295 309 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS n. in. IV. V. VI. vn "THEy WERE STARTLED BY BLOOD-CURD- '"' iKm.J^""*"''' ^"^ "" HALF-DOZEN INDIANS, GUNS LEVELLED, ROSE UPON THE shore" Frcniupitc* Ungava Bob .. „_, , 32 Don T MAKE SUCK A BIG FIRe" fig "She stood motionless as a statue" . . 114 "Shooting past them, paddling with THE desperation OF MEN FACING DOOM, WERE THE INDIANS THAT MANIKAWAN HAD SENT ADRIFT" 14$ "The Indians discussed the matter AT SOME LENGTH" .... "'^"ER *'*" ^94 'He FELL TO HIS KNEE, AIMED CARE- FULLY AND PULLED THE TRIGGER" .... 245 VIII. "Then they parted, Mookoomahn to TURN Northward in his long and LONELY journey TO JOIN HIS PEOPLE" 310 SHAD TROWBRIDGE OF BOSTON ON a foggy morning of early July in the year 1890, the Labrador mail boat, northward bound from St. Johns, felt her way oautionsly into the mist-enveloped harbour of Fort PeUoan and to her anchorage. For six days the little steamer had been buffeted by wind and ice and fog, and when at last her engines ceased to throb and she lay at rest in harbour, Allen Shradrach Trow- bridge of Boston, her only passenger, fel; hugely relieved, for the voyage had been a most unpleasant one, and here he was to dis- embark. In June, Allen Shadrach Trowbridge— or "Shad" Trowbridge as the fellows called him, and as we shall call him— had completed his freshman year in college. When college closed he set sail at once for Labrador, where he was to spend his summer holiday canoeing and fishing in the wilderness. 10 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF This was the first extended journey Shad Trowbridge had ever made quite alone. For many months he had been planning and pre- paring for it, and he promised himself it was to be an eventful experience. He was standing now at the rail, as the ship anchored, peering eagerly through the mist at the group of low, whitewashed buildings which composed Fort Pelican post of the Hudson's Bay Company, and at the dim outline of dark forest behind-a clean-cut, square-shouldered, athletic young fellow, who carried his head with the air of one ]. -ssessing a fair share of self-esteem and self-reliance, and whose square jaw suggested wilfulness if not determina- tion. The rugged surroundings thrilled him with promise of adventure. The historic post of the old fur traders, the boundless, mysterious forest, and the romantic Ufe of the trappers and dusky tribes which it sheltered, were preg- nant with interest. But his wildest dreams could not have foretold the part Shad Trow- bridge was destined to play in this primordial land and Ufe before he shonlj oid fareweU to its bleak coast. SHAD THOVVBHIDGE OF BOSTON U " A rough-looking country," remarked the steward, joining Shnl at the rail. "It's glorious 1 oxclaimed Shad enthusias- tically. "A real frontier I And back there is a real wilderness I Just the sort of wilder- ness I've dreamed about getting into all my life." " The deck of the mail boat's about as near as I want to get to it," said the steward with a deprecatory shiug. " It's a land o' hard knocks and short grub. You'd better leave it to the livyeres and Indians, young luan, and go back to God's country with the ship." " No, thank you," said Shad. "I'm going to have a rattling good summer hunting and fishing here before I see the ship again." " When we come on our next voyage, a fort- night from now, you'll be standing out there on the dock looking for us, and mighty glad to see us," laughed the steward. " You'll have all you want of The Labrador by then. Shall I put your things ashore! " " Yes, if you please— all but the canoe. I'll paddle that over, if you'll send a man to help me launch it. ' ' " Pooh! " thought Shad, as the steward left " THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF Wm. "' Hard knocks and ,hortgn,b 'I Of course there would be some hard Cts bn iM ?nr;:;jjr' "" -^ ^^ ^-^ »° ^-S W'^K ^' ^°°'''' '"" »' «««'« and fish ^e- dbe plenty .0 eat, Hedidn. expect anV h^e/maVktd'^rf''-^^'''''^ '''»*-' taicehim^orat:; '^'^'''^^^^^"'^ watheS'it?" ""*'""'' •"• ^J-^ »««'* wharf ttretch of beach adjoining the wharf, and two ofthem strolled down to inspect his canl when he lifted it out of the water and turned Sw Ir ! *•"' '''*-^''«'' JooBe-joint;] esquely attired ,n moleskin trousers tucked a ^slK,rt ,acke, and the peakless cap of the' beUe?n'\;!'\^:^''"°'»-°"'^-ful sight 3ere^ H f '"' * P"^""-'"'' b^ad-shonl- dered, deep-chested man, who wore a lighi SHAD TROWBRIDGE OP BOSTON 18 cloth adicky, but whose dress r/as othenrise ■imilar to that of his companioF. "She have better lines t!ian tb' Injun craft," said the one addresgpd as Ed, eyeing the canoe critically. "An' she's stancher— a wonderful lot Btancher," continued the other. " She is a pretty good canoe, and a splendid white- water craft," Shad remarked, to break the ice of reserve, and to give the two trappers the opening for conversation for which they were evidently hedging. " Aye, sir," said the man in the adicky, " they's no doot o' that. Her lines be right, sir. She'd be a fine craft in th' rapids, now— a fine un." " Be you comin' far, an' be you goin' back wi' th' shipT " asked Ed, unable to restrain his curiosity longer. " I came from Bo8ti.n, and if I can get a guide I Bhall stay for the summer and take a canoe trip into the country," answered Shad. "I'm thinkin* you can get un in th' shop," suggested Ed. " Get them in the shopT " asked Shad, in astonishment, not quite certain whether he was 14 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF misunderstood, or whether the trapper was mahng game of him. Ed 's respectful manner however, quickly satisfied him that the former was the case. "Aye," said Ed. " They keeps a wonder- ful stock o' things in the shop." " I refer to a man," explained Shad " I wish to employ a man to go into the country with me to show me about and to assist me. ' '' 'Tis a pilot you wants! " exclaimed Ed iight breaking upon him. ' "0' course 'tis a pilot I " broke in the other with an intonation that suggested scorn of Ee s Ignorance. " A pilot an' a guide be th' TpTot^'"^' ^ """* •" ' ^^'' '''' ^ «^^^' ^' "I'd like wonderful well V pilot you my- self sin but I couldn't do it nohow," volun- teered Ed, in a tone of apology. '" You see, I has my nets out, an' I has t' get in firewood for th wife t' last she through th' winter whilst I be on th' trail trappin'. An Dick here's fixed th same. Dick an' me's partners fishin', an' he gives me a hand gettin' out wood, an' I helps he. This be Dick Blake, sir," continued SHAD TROWBRIDGE OF BOSTON 15 Ed, suddenly remembering that there had been no introduction, " an' I be Ed Matheson." " I'm glad to make your acquaintance, gen- tlemen," Shad acknowledged. " My name is Trowbridge. Perhaps you may be able to tell me where I can employ a guide. I would ap- preciate your assistance." " Le'me see," Ed meditated. " Now I'm thinkin' Ungava Bob might go," he at length suggested. " He were home th' winter, an' they hauled a rare lot o' wood out wi ' th' dogs an' his father can 'tend th' nets. What d'you think, Dick? " " Aye, Ungava Bob could sure go, what- ever," agreed Dick. " ' Ungava Bob ' sounds interesting," said Shad. " How old a man is this Ungava Bob, and 18 that his real name, or is ' Ungava ' a " He's but a lad-eighteen year old comin' September-but a rare likely lad-good as a man. Aye, good as a man," declared Ed. "His real name be Bob Gray," explained Dick, ' but we calls him ' Ungava Bob ' for a wonderful cruise he were makin' two year ago comin' winter." 1« THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF " Seventeen years of age, and already so fa- mous as to have won a title! I'm interested, and I'd like to hear more about him," smr gested Shad. ^ " ^°' y°" ^a°ts t' hear," said Ed. " But now we be a-standin' an' a-keepin' you, when you wants t' see Mr. Forbes." '' Yes I wish to see Mr. Forbes, if he is the factor of the post, but you haven't detained me m the least. I can see him presently," re- assured Shad. " Mr. Forbes be wonderful busy till th' shin goes, an' she'll be here for nigh an hour yet '' advised Ed. ^ ' " Very well, I'll not call on him, then, till the ship goes," decided Shad, " and I'd be glad to hear something of Ungava Bob's travels, m the meantime." " We might step into th' men's kitchen, where there be seats an' we can talk in com- fort 'suggested Ed. " This fog be wonderful chiUm' standin' still." "That's a good suggestion," agreed Shad. The fog ,8 cold." And he followed the two trappers down the long board walk to the men's kitchen. n THE LURE OF THE WILDERNESS UNGAVA BOB ^ father's name be Rich- ard Gray," began Ed, while he cut to- bacco from a black plug and stuffed it into his pipe, when they were presently seated m the men's kitchen. " Dick's name, here, be Richard, too, but we calls he ' Dick,' and Rich- ard Gray ' Richard,' so's not t' get un mixed up. You see, if we calls un both ' Dick ' or both ' Richard,' we'd never be knowin' who 'twas were meant." " I see," said Shad. " Well, Richard were bavin' a wond( il streak o' bad luck," continued Ed, striking a match and holding it aloft for the sulphur to buni off, " wonderful hard luck. His fur- rin' fails he two years runnin', an' then th' fishin' fails he, an' his debt wi' th' Company gets so big he's two year behind, whatever, th' best he does." Ed paused to apply the match t I pipe. 17 18 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF you ever noticin', Mr. Too- " Were bridge " Titmbridge," corrected Dick. " Be it ' Toobridge ' or ' Tumbridge,' sirT " asked Ed, unwilling to accept Dick's correo- tion. " Trowbridge." " Leastways Toobridge were nigher right than Tumbridge," declared Ed, looking dis- dainfully at Dick. " Were you ever noticin' how bad luck, when she strikes a man's trail follows him like a pack o' hungry wolves! Well, just at th' time I'm speakJn ' about, Rich- ard's little maid Emily falls oft a ledge an' hurts she so she can't walk. They tries all th' cures they knows, but 't weren". no good, an' then they brings Emily here t' Pelican, t' see th' mail-boat doctor when th' ship comes. " Th' mail-boat doctor tells nn th' only cure is t' take she t' th' hospital in St. Johns, an' so they fetches Emily back t' Wolf Bight, for a trip t' St. Johns takes a wonderful lo't o' money, an' Richard ain't got un, " Bob thinks a wonderful lot o' Emily. He be only sixteen then, but a rare big an' stal- wart lad for his years, an' unbeknown t' Fich- THE LUHE OP THE WILDERNESS 19 ard an' his ma he goes t' Douglas Campbell, an' says t' Douglas, an' he lets he work th' Big Hill trail on shares th' winter, he's thinkm' he may ha' th' luck f trap a silver fox, an' leastways fur t' pay f send Emily f th' hospital." ' •' Who is Douglas Campbell? " asked Shad. Oh, c .17 one knows he, an • a rare old man he be Ho comes t' th' Bay from th' Orkneys mgh forty year ago, workin' as servant for th Company, an' then leavin' th' Company f go trappin'. He done wonderful well, buyin' traps an' openin' new trails, which he lets out on shares. Th' Big Hill trail up th' Grand ±tiver were a new one. '' Well, Bob goes in wi' me an' Dick an' Bill Campbell, Douglas's lad, we workin' con- nectin' trails, an' he done fine. He starts right m ca chin' martens an' silver foxes-a won- derful lot for a lad " " He only catches one silver, barrin' th' one after he were lost! " broke in Dick. " Now don't go yamin', Ed." " Leastways, he gets one silver an' a rare lot 0' martens an' otters up f Christmas, an' a plenty t' send Emily f th' hospital «0 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF " Then Micmac John— he were a thievin' half-breed as asks Douglas for th' Big Hill trail, an' feels a grudge ag'in' Bob because Douglas give un t' Bob— Micmac goes in an' steals Bob's tent when Bob were up country after deer. A snow comin' on— 'twere won- derful cold— Bob gives out tryin' t' find his tilt, an' falls down, an' loses his senses. When he wakes up he's in a Nascaupee Injun tent, th' Injuns comin' on he where he falls an' takin ' he with un. " Bob not knowin' th' lingo they speaks, an' they not knowin' his lingo, an' he not knowin' how far they took he before he wakes up, or rightly how t' find his tilt, he sticks t' the' In- juns, an' they keeps workin' north till they comes t' Ungava." " A wonderful trip that werel A wonder- ful trip ! No man in th' Bay w: re ever t' Un- gava before, so we calls he ' Ungava Bob,' " interrupted Dick. " Then Bob works 'cross th' nu'th'ard coun- try with huskies," continued Ed, " an' up th' coast with huskies, until he goes adrift on th' ice — him an' his two huskies he has with he— an' when they thinks they's lost, or like t' THE LUBE OP THE WILDERNESS M be lost, they comes on a tradin' vessel froze in th' ice an' loaded wi' tradin' goods an' furs, an' not e'er a man aboard she. Bob an' th' huskies sails th' vessel in here, when th' ice breaks up, an' th' ship goes free, " That were just one year ago. Me an' Dick gets out from th' trails th' day Bob gets home, an' Douglas goin' with us, we sails th' vessel, which were ' The Maid o' the North,' t' St. Johns, an' Bob gets fifteen thousand dol- lars salvage money. A rare lot o' money, sir, that were for any man t' have, let alone a lad." " What happened to the little girl— his sis- ter T " asked Shad. " She goes t' th' hospital, an' comes back t' Wolf Bight in September, cured an' fine. She be a fine little maid, too— a fine little maid," Ed asserted. " What was done to the half-breed Indian — Micmac John, I think you called himt " " MicmacT Oh, he were killed by wolves handy f th' place th' Injuus finds Bob. Me, wi' Bill an' Dick, here, goes lookin' for Bob an' finds Micmac 's bones where th' wolves scatters un, an' handy to ul is Bob's flatsled. «« THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF an' thinkin' they's Bob's remains I hauls un out in th' winter, an' his folks buries un proper for his remains before he gets out in th' spring." "What an experience for a kid I" ex- claimed Shad. " He must have had some rat- tling adventures? " " Aye, that he did," said Ed. " 'Twould be a long story f tell un all, -but there were one. now " " Now don't go yamin', Ed," interrupted Dick, who had stepped out of doors and re- turned at this moment. " Ed never tells un straight, Mr. Trunbridge." " Troobridge," broke in Ed. " Trowbridge," volunteered Shad. " Mr. Trowbridge," continued Dick. " He makes un a lot worse 'n Bob tells un. Fog's clearin', Ed, an' we better be goin' after we eats dinner." "That we had, an' the fog's clearin'" agreed Ed. ' "But how about Ungavi Bob? I'd like to meet him. Do you really think I may be able to engage him to guide me on a two or three weeks' trip? " asked Shad. THE LURE OF THE WILDERNESS SS "Aye," said Ed. " I'm thinkin', now, you might. Bob's not startin' for th' trails for three weeks, whatever, an- he's bidin' home tiil he goes, an' not wonderful busy. I'm thinkin' Bob could go." " That settles it," Shad decided. "I'll look him up." " You'll be welcome t' a place in our boat " suggested Dick. '• Tis a two-days' sail, w'i' fair wind. They's plenty o' room, an' we can tow th' canoe. Me an' Ed lives at Porcu- pine Cove, an' you can paddle th' canoe over from there t' Wolf Bight in half a day, what- ever." "Done I" exclaimed Shad. With the assurance of Mr. James Forbes, the factor, that the rivers flowing into the head of the Bay, a hundred miles inland from Fort Pelican, offered good canoe routes, Shad felt that a kind fate had indeed directed him to Fort Pelican, and that he had been particularly fortunate in meeting the two trappers. " Bob Gray will be a good man for yon if you can engage him, and I think you can " said Mr. Forbes. " Bob has had some truly n «4 THE GAUNT GR \y WOLF remarkable adventures, and he's an interest- ing chap. Ed Matheson will probably relate these adventures to you, properly embellished, if you go up the Bay with him and Dick Blake. Take Ed's stories, though, with a grain of salt. He is a good trapper, but he hag a vivid im- agination." Shad accepted Mr. Forbes 'g invitation to dine in the " big house," as the factor's resi- dence was called, and when, after dinner, Mr. Forbes accompanied him to the wharf, the trappers had already stowed his outfit into their boat, and the two men were awaiting his arrival. No time was lost in getting away. Sail was hoisted at once, and with Shad's canoe in tow the boat turned westward into the narrows that connect Eskimo Bay with the ocean. " Th' wind's shifted t' nu'th'ard, and when we gets through th' narrows there'll be no fog," Dick prophesied, and his prophecy proved true. Presently the sky cleared, the sun broke through the mist, the freshening north wind swept away the last lingering fog bank, and as a curtain rises upon a scene, jo the lifting fog revealed to Shad Trowbridge THE LURE OF THE WILDERNESS »5 the weird, primitive beauty of the rugged northland that he was entering. The atmosphere, so lately clogged with mist, had suddenly become transparent. To the floutbward, beyond a broad stretcii of gently heaving waters, rose a range of snow-capped mountains, extending far to the westward Reaching up from the nearby northern shore of the bay, and stretching away over gently rolling hills lay the boundless evergreen forest. Somewhere in the distance a wild goose honked. White-winged gulls soared grace- fully overhead. Now and again a seal rose to gaze for an inquisitive moment at the passing boat, and once a flock of ducks settled upon the waters. The air was redolent with the pungent odour of spruce and balsam fir-the perfume of the forest-and Shad, lounging contentedly at the bow of the boat, drank in great wholesome lungfuls of it. All this was commonplace to the trappers and quite unmindful of it Fd Matheson launched upon tales of stirring wilderness ad- ventures in which his imagination was unre- «6 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF strained, save by an occasional expostulation from Dick. The wild region through which they were passing gave proper setting for Ed's stories, and Shad, a receptive listener, wished that he, too, might battle with nature as these men did. How tame and uneventful his own life seemed. Already the sul 3 lure of the wil- derness was asserting itself. Three days after leaving Fort Pelican, Shad and the two trappers sailed their dory into Porcupine Cove. It was mid-afternoon, and Shad, impatient to reach Wolf Bight and be- gin his explorations in company with Ungava Bob, prepared for immediate departure, after a bountiful dinner of boiled grouse, bread, and tea in Dick Blake's cabin. " Better 'bide wi' me th' evenin'," invited Dick, "an' take an early start in th' mornin'. Th' wind's veered t' th' nor '-nor 'west, an' she's like t' kick up some chop th' evenin', an' 'tis a full half -day's cruise t' Wolf Bight, whatever. ' ' " I can make it all right," insisted Shad. " Bob may not be able to give me much time, THE LURE OP THE WILDERNESS «7 and I want to take advantage of all he can give me." " ■VV'ell, if you most be goin', I'd not hinder 7on; but," continned Diclt, " keep dogt f shore, until you reaches that p'int yonder, an' then make th' crosnin- for th' south shore, keepin' that blue mountain peak just off your starboard bow, aa' you can't be missin' Wolf B.ght. If th' wind freshens, camp on th' p'int, an wait for calm t' make th' crossin' t' th' s'uth'ard shore." "Thank you, I'll follow your advice," said onad. " ^"!'' ^°'^'" <=»"ed Ed, who had disap- peared into the cabin, and reappeared with a rope. " I'm thinkin' I'll lash your outfit t' th canoe. They's no knowin' what's like t' Happen, an' 'tis best t' be sure, whatever " Shad felt truly grateful to the two bronzed trappers as he shook their hands and said adieu to them. It was only his impatience to plunge into the deep forests reaching away to the westward, and a growing curiosity to meet Ungava Bob, that induced him to decline the sincerely extended hospitality of Blake and Matheson. 98 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF Afternoon was waning into evening when Shad reached the point Dick had indicated, and the rising breeze was beginning to whip the wave crests here and there into white foam. Dick Blake had advised him to camp here if the wind increased. It had increased con- siderably, but Shad had set his heart upon reaching Wolf Bight that night, and he did not wish to stop. The sun was setting, but there was to be a full moon, and he would be able to see nearly as well as by day. The sea, though a little rougher than it had been dur- ing the afternoon, was not, after all, he argued, so bad. "I'll make a try for it, anyhow; I know I can make it," said he, after a little hesitation, and turning his back upon the point he pad- dled on. Presently, however, he began to regret his decision. With the setting sun the wind in- creased perceptibly. The sea grew uncom- fortably rough. Little by Uttle the canoe b&- gan to ship water, and with every moment the situation became more perilous. THE LUHE OF THE WILDERNE=e 30 Now, genuinely alarmed, Shad ma.e n vain attempt to turn about, in the hope lint ro might gain the lee of the point and effect a andmg But it was too late. He quickly found that it was quite impossible to stem the wind, and he had no choice but to continue upon his course. With full realization of his desperate posi- tion Shad paddled hard and paddled for fiis iite. He was a good swimmer, but he knew ^ell that were his canoe to capsize he could not hope to survive long in these cold waters. The canoe was gradually filling ^th water, but he dared not release his paddle to bail the water out. With each big sea that bore down upon bm he held his breath in fear that it would overwhelm him. Nearer and nearer the south shore loomed m the moonlight, and with every muscle strained Shad paddled for it with all his might, n^he^uld only keep afloat another twenty But he had taken too desperate a chance, -as goal was still a full mile away when a l\ 30 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF great wave broke over the canoe. Then came another and another in quick succession, and Shad suddenly found himself cast into the sea, struggling in the icy waters, hopelessly far from shore. in VmAVA BOB MAKES A RESCUE TWILIGHT was settling into gloom, and the first faint stars were struggling to ^^^^ themselves above the distant line of dark fir and spruce trees that marked the edge of the forest bordering Eskimo Bay Dark cloud patches scudding across the sky now and again obscured the face of the rising moon. A brisk northwest breeze was blowing and though it was mid-July the air had gro;^' chill with the setting of the sun Ungava Bob, alone in his boat, arose, but- toned h,s jacket, trimmed sail, and by force of habit stood with his left hand resting upon the tiller while he scanned the moonlit waters of the bay before resuming his seat. He was a tall, square-shouldered, well- developed lad of seventeen, straight and lithe as an Indian, with keen, gray-blue eyes, which seemed ever alert and observant. Exposure to sun and wind had tamied his naturally fair 81 82 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF skin a rich bronze, and his thick, dark-brown hair, with a tendency to curl up at the ends, where it fell below his cap, gave his round, full face an appearance of boyish innocence. He was now homeward bound to Wolf Bight from the Hudson's Bay Company's post on the north shore, where he had purchased a sup- ply of steel traps and other equipment pre- paratory to his next winter's campaign upon the trapping trails of the far interior wilder- ness; for Bob Gray, though but seventeen years of age, was already an experienced hunter and trapper. Suddenly, as he looked over the troabled sea, a small black object rising upon the crest of a wave far to leeward caught his eye. The small black object was Shad's canoe, and one with less keen vision might have passed it unno- ticed, or seeing it have supposed it belated debris cast into the bay by the rivers, for the spring floods had hardly yet fully subsided. But Bob's training as a hunter taught him to take nothing for granted, and, watching iu- tently for its reappearance from the trough of the sea, he presently discerned in the moon- light the faint glint of a paddle. w ! I Ungava Roh UNGAVA BOB MAKES A RESCUE 33 " A canoe I " he exclaimed, as he sat down. "An' what, now, be an Injun doin' out there this time o' night t An' Injuns never crosses where this tm be. I'll see, now, who it is, an' what he's up to, whatever," and, suiting the action to the resolve, he shifted his course to bear down upon the stranger. The hunter instinctively attributes impor- tance to every sign, sound, or action that is not in harmony with the usual routine of his world, and by actual investigation he must needs satisfy himself of its meaning. This is not idle curiosity, but an instinct born of necessity and life-long training, and it was this instinct that prompted Ungava Bob's action in turning from his direct course home- ward. " 'Tis no Injun," he presently said, as with a nearer approach he observed the stroke. " 'Tis too long an' slow a paddle-stroke." This puzzled him, for he knew well every white settler of the Bay within a hundred miles of his home, ana he knew, too, that only some extraordinary mission could have called one of them abroad so late in the evening, and particularly upon the course this canoe wag 84 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF taking at a season of the year when all were employed upon their fishing grounds. Gradually he drew down upon the canoe, un- til at length he could make out its lines, and observed that it was not a birch bark, the only sort of canoe in use in the Bay by either In- dians or white natives. The canoeist, too, was a stranger in the region. Of this he had no doubt, though he could not see his features. He was well within hailing distance, though it was evident the stranger in the canoe had not yet discovered his approach, when a black cloud passed over the face of the moon, plung- ing the sea into darkness, and when the moon again lighted the waters canoe and canoeist had vanished as by magic. Like a flash, realising what had happened. Bob seized a coil of rope, made one end fast to the stern of his boat, grasped the coil in his right hand, and, tense and expectant, scanned the sea for the reappearance of the unfortunate stranger. Presently he discovered the submerged canoe directly ahead, and an instant later saw Shad rise to the surface, strike out for it, and catch and cling to the gunwale. UNGAVA BOB MAKES A RESCUE 33 Bob poised himself for the effort, and as he scudded past, measuring the distmoo to a nicety, deftly cast the line directly across the canoe and within the reach of Shad's hand, shouting as he did so : " Make un fast! " Without looking for the result, he sprang forward, lowered sail, shipped the oars, pulled the boat about, and Shad, who had caught the rope, had scarcely time to thrust it under a thwart and secure it before Bob, drawing alongside, caught him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him aboard the boat. Seizing the oars again, and pulling safely Tree from dan- ger of collision with the canoe. Bob I'oisted sail, brought the boat before the wind, and resuming his seat astern had his first good look at his thus suddenly acquired passenger. Shad, amidships, was engaged in drawing off his outer flannel shirt, from which he coolly proceeded to wring, as thoroughly as possi- ble, the excess water, before donning it again. Not a word had passed between them, and neither spoke until Shad had readjusted his shirt, when, by way of opening conversation, Bob remarked: 86 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF " You'm wet, sir." " Naturally," admitted Shad. " I've been in the Bay, and the bay water is surpriaingly wet." " Aye," agreed Bob, " 'tis that." " And surprisingly cold." " Aye, 'tis wonderful cold." " And I'm profoundly grateful to yon for pulling me out of it." " 'Twere fine I comes ia. before your cauoe founders, or I'm thinkin' you'd be handy t' drownded by now." " A sombre thought, but I guess you're right. A fellow couldn't swim far or stick it out long in there," said Shad, waving his arm toward the dark waters. "I'm sure I owe my life to you. It was lucky for me you saw me." " 'T weren't luck, si»-; 'twere Providence. 'Twere th' Lord's way o' takin' care o' you." " Well, it was a pretty good way, anyhow. But where did you drop fromt I didn't see you till you threw me that line a few minutes ago." " I were passin' t' wind'ard, sir, when I sights you, an' not knowin' who 'twere, I jj i UNGAVA BOB MAKES A RESCUE 87 sails dose in till I makes you out as a stranger, an' then yon goes down an' I picks you up." " That sounds very simple, but it was a good stunt, just the same, to get me the line and come around in this chop the way you did, and then haul me aboard before I knew what you were about-you kept your head beautifully, and knew what to do-and you only a kid, tool " added Shad, in surprise, as the moon- light fell full on Bob's face. "A— kidt" asked Bob, not quite certain what " kid " might be. " Yes— just a youngster— a boy." "I'm seventeen," Bob asserted, in a tone which resented the imputation of extreme youth. " You don't look much older 'n that yourself." "But I am— much older— I'm eighteen," said Shad, grinning. " My name's Trow- bridge -Shad Trowbridge, from Boston. What is your name? Let's get acquainted," and Shad extended his hand. " I'm Bob Gray, o' Wolf i.!^ht," said Bob, taking Shad's hand. " Not Ungava Bobf " exclaimed Shad. 88 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLP " Aye, they calls me Ungava Bob here- abouts sometimes." " Why, I was on my way to Wolf Bight to see you! " " T'seeme, sirf " " Yes, I came up from Fort Pelican to Por- cupine Cove with two trappers named Blake and Matheson, and they told me about you. They said I might induce you to take a trip with rae." " A trip with you, sirt " " Yes. I want to take a little canoe and fish- ing trip into the country, and Blake and Matheson suggested that yon might have two or three weeks to spare and could go along with me. I'll pay you well for your services. What do you think of it? " " I'm— not just knowin'," Bob hesitated. " I leaves for my trappin' grounds th' first o' August t' be gone th' winter, an'— I'm thinkin' I wants t' stay home till I goes— an' my folks '11 be wantin' me home." " Well, let's not decide now. We'll talk it over to-morrow." " You'm cold," said Bob, after a moment's silence, reaching into a locker under his seat I NGAVA BOB MAKES A RESCUE 89 and bringing out a moleskin adicity. " Put un on. She's fine and warm." "Thank you. I'm thoroughly chilled," Shad admitted, gratefully accepting the adicky and drawing it on over his wet clothing. " Pull th' hood up," suggested Bob. " 'Twill help warm you." " There, that's better; I'll soon be quite comfortable." " We don't seem to be making much head- way," Shad remarked, observing the shore after a brief lapse in conversation. "No," said Bob, " th' canoe bein' awash 'tis a heavy drag towin' she, but we'll soon be in th' lee, an' out o' danger o' th' sea smashin' she ag'in' th' boat, an' then I'll haul she alongsidean'br;. . v< r fit aboard." They were sit ..-ly ^, ,., ..-hing the south shore and presently, as Bob had predicted, ran under the lee of a long point of land, where in calmer water the canoe was manoeuvred alongside, and Shad's outfit, so fortunately and securely lashed fast by Ed Matlieson, was found intact, save the paddle which Shad had been using. The things were quickly transferred to the u 40 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF boat, and, this accomplished. Bob bailed the canoe free of water, dropped it astern, now a light and easy tow, and catching the breeze again in the open, turned at length into Wolf Bight, where he made a landing on a sandy- beach. " That's where I lives," said Bob, indicat- ing a little log cabin, sharply silhouetted against the moonlit sky, on a gentle rise above them. When the canoe, quite unharmed, was lifted from the water and all made snug, Shad si- lently followed up the path and into the door of the darkened cabin, where Bob lighted a candle, displaying a large square room, the uncarpeted floor scoured to immaculate white- ness, as were also the home-made wooden chairs, a chest of drawers, and uncovered table. There were two windows on the south side and one on the north side, all gracefully draped with snowy muslin. A clock ticked cheerfully on a rude mantel behind a large box stove. To the left of the door, a rough stairway led to the attic, and the rear of the room was curtained off into two compart- UNGAVA BOB MAKES A RESCUE 41 ments, the spotlessly clean curtains of a pale blue and white checked print, giving a refresh- ing touch of colour to the room which, simply as it was furnished, possessed an atmosphere of restfulness and homely comfort that im- pressed the visitor at once as cosy and whole- some. " My folks be all abed," explained Bob, as he placed the candle on the table, " but we'll put a fire on an' boil th' kettle. A drop o' hot tea '11 warm you up after your cold souse." " I would appreciate it," said Shad, his teeth chattering. "Be that you. Bob? " asked a voice from behind the curtain. " Aye, Father," answered Bob, " an' I has a gentleman with me, come t' visit us." " Now that be fine. I'll be gettin' right up," said the voice. " Put a fire on, lad, an' set th' kettle over," suggested a woman's voice, " an' I'll be get- tin' a bite t' eat." " Please don't leave your bed," pleaded Shad. " It will make me feel that I am caus- ing a lot of trouble. Bob and I will do very nicely." 42 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF " 'Tis no trouble, sir— 'tis no trouble at all," the man's voice assured. " Oh, no, sir; 'tis no trouble," echoed the woman's voice. " 'Tis too rare a pleasure t' have a visitor." Both spoke in accents of such honest wel- come and hospitality that Shad made no further objection. The fire was quickly lighted, and Shad, as the stove began to send out its genial wannth, had but just removed his borrowed adicky when the curtain parted and Mr. and Mrs. Gray appeared. " Mr. Trowbridge, this be Father and Mother," said Bob; adding as a second thought, " Mr. Trowbridge lives in Bos- ton." " 'Tis fine t' see a stranger, sir," welcomed Eichard Gray, as he shook Shad's hand warmly, "an' from Boston, tool I have beam th' fishermen o' th' coast tell o' Boston more'n once, but I never were thinkin' we'd have some one from Boston come t' our house I An' you comes all th' way from Boston, now? " " Yes," admitted Shad, "but I feel sure UNGAVA BOB MAKES A RESCUE 43 I'm causing you and Mrs. Gray no end of in- convenience, coming at this time of night." " Oh, no, sir! 'Tis no inconvenience in th' least. We're proud t' have you," assured Mrs. Gray, taking his hand. " Why, you'm wet, sirl" she exclaimed, noticing Shad's clinging garments, and her motherly instinct at once asserted itself. '< Yon must have a change. Bob, lad, hold th' candle, now, whilst I get some dry clothes." " Please don't trouble yourself. I'm very comfortable by the fire; indeed, I am," Shad protested. But Bob nevertheless held the candle while his mother selected a suit of warm underwear, a pair of woollen socks, a flannel outer shirti and a pair of freshly washed white moleskin trousers from the chest of drawers. " These be Bob's clothes, but they'll be a handy fit for you, I'm thinkin', for Bob an' you be as like in size as two duck's eggs," she commented, looking the two over for compari- son. " Now, Bob, light a candle an' show Mr. Trowbridge above stairs. When you're changed, sir, bring your wet things down, an' we'll hang un by th' stove t' dry." 44 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF " You're very kind, Mrs. Gray," said Shad gratefully, turning to follow Bob. In the attic were three bunks spread with downy Hudson's Bay Company blankets, two stools, and a small table. It contained no other furniture, but was beautifully clean. There was an open window at either end, one looking toward the water, the other toward the spruce forest, and the atmosphere, bear- ing the perfu.-ne of balsam and fir, was fresh and wholesoi ■ \ " I sleeps here," informed Bob, placing the candle on the table and indicating one of the bunks, "an' you may have either o' th' other beds you wants. Now whilst you changes, sir, I'll bring up th' things from th' boat. Here's a pair o' deerskin moccasins. Put un on," he added, selecting a new pair from several hanging on a peg. Shad made his toilet leisurely, and as he turned to descend the stairs with his wet gar- ments on his arm he met the appetising odour of frying fish, which reminded him that he had eaten nothing since mid-day and was raven- ously hungry. In the room below he found the table spread UNGAVA BOB MAKES A RESCUE 46 with a white cloth. A plate of bread and a jar of jam were upon it, and at the stove Mrs Gray was transferring from frying-pan to platter some delicionsly browned brook trout Bob, with his father's assistance, had brought up Shad's belongings from the boat, and Eich- wd was critically examining Shad's repeating " Let me have un," said he, putting down the gun, and reaching for the wet garments on Shad's arm proceeded at once to spread them upon a line behind the stove. " Set in an' have a bite, now. You must be wonderful hungry after your cruise," in- vited Mrs. Gray. " 'Tis only trout an' a bit o' bread an' jam an' a drop o' tea," Eichard apologised, as he jomed Shad and Bob at the table, " but we has t' do wi' plain eatin' in this country, an' be content with what th' Lord sends us " "Trout are a real luxury to me," assured Shad. " We are seldom able to get them at home, and a trout supper is a feast to be remembered." "Well, nowt Trout a luxury! " exclaimed Bichard. " About aU we gets t' eat in th' 46 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF summer is trout an' salmon, an' we're glad enough when th' birds flies in th' fall." " What birds do you gett " asked Shad. '"' Duck and geese, and there's plenty of partridge in the winter," explained Richard. " An' I were thinkin', now, you might not care for un," said Mrs. Gray. "I'm wonder- ful glad you likes un." Richard asked the blessing, and then invited Shad to " fall to," and frequently urged him to take more trout and not to be " afraid of un," a quite unnecessary warning in view of Shad's long fast and naturally vigorous appetite. " Mr. Trowbridge wants me t' go on a fort- night's trip up th' country with he," re- marked Bob, as they ate. " A trip up th' country! " inquired Richard. " Yes," said Shad, " a fishing and canoeing trip." " But Bob's t' be wonderful busy makin' ready for th' trappin'," Richard objected. " So he tells me," said Shad, " but perhaps if we talk it over to-morrow you can make some suggestion." UNGAVA BOB MAKES A RESCUE 47 "Aye," agreed Richard, with evident re- lief, " we'll talk un over to-morrow." When the meal was finished, Richard de- voutly offered thanks, after the manner of the God-fearing folk of the country. The mantel clock struck two as they arose from the table. Dawn was breaking, for at this season of the year the Labrador nights are short, and Shad, at the end of his long and eventful day, was quite content to follow Bob above stairs to his attic bunk. IV AWAY TO THE TRAILS SUNSHINE was streaming through the open south window of the attic when Shad awoke. Just outside the window a jay was screeching noisily. Bob's bunk was vacant. It was evident that Shad had slept long and that the hour was late, and he sprang quickly from his bed and consulted his watch, but the watch, flooded with water when the canoe capsized the night before, had stopped. He paused for a moment at the open win- dow to look out upon the nearby forest and expand his lungs with delicious draughts of the fragrant air. It was a glorious day, and as be left the window to make a hasty toilet his nerves tingled in eager anticipation, for. he was at last at the threshold of the great Labrador wilderness — his land of dreams and romance. He was certain it held for him many novel experiences and perhaps thrilling ad- ventures. And he was not to be disappointed. 48 AWAY TO THE TRAILS 49 His clothes, which Richard had hung to dry by the stove the night before, lay on a Btool at his bedside, neatly folded. Some one had placed them there while he slept. He donned them quickly, and descending to the Imng-room found the table spread and Mrs. Gray preparing to set a pot of tea to brew. " Good morning, sir," she greeted, adding sohcitously-.lhopesyouhadagoodrest! and feels none the worse for gettin' wet last evenm'." "Good morning," said Shad. "I rested splendidly, thank you, and feel fine and dandy. Whew! " he exclaimed, glancing at the mantel clock. "Twelve o'clock!" ',' ^5^®- ^^ ^as wonderful careful t' be quiet an not wake you, sir," she explained. " 'Tig weU t' have plenty o' rest after a wettin' in th Bay. Dinner's just ready," and going to the open door she called, " Emily! Emily! " A young girl, perhaps twelve years of age qmckly entered in response to the summons' She was clad in a cool, fresh print frock and wore deerskin moccasins upon her feet. Her wavy chestnut-brown hair, gathered with a w THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF ribbon, hung down her back; her oval face, lighted by big blue eyes, was tanned a healthy brown, and Shad thought her a rather pretty and altogether wholesome looking child, as she paused in confusion at the threshold upon seeing him. " Emily, dear, get Mr. Trowbridge a basin o' water, now; he's wantin' t' wash up," di- rected Mrs. Gray. " Mr. Trowbridge, this is our little maid, Emily.^' "I'm glad to know you, Emily," said Shad courteously. " Have you >iuite recovered from your injury! When I was at Fort Peli- can I heard all about you and your trip to St. Johns." " I's fine now, thank you, sir," answered Emily, flushing to the roots of her hair. " Yes, Emily's fiae an' well now, sir," as- sured Mrs. Gray, as Emily turned to fill the basin of water. " But she were wonderful bad after her fall till she goes t' th' hospital in St. Johns t' be cured. 1 3y's a fresh towel on the peg above th' bench, sir, an' a comb on th' shelf under th' mirror by th' window," she continued, as Emily placed a basin of water on a bench by the door. AWAY TO THE TRAILS 61 " Thank you," acknowledged Shad, turninjr to complete his toilet. " Now, Emily, dear, call Father an' Bob " 8aid Mrs. Gray, " dinner's sot." And Emily, glad of a respite from the embarrassing pres- ence of the stranger, ran o.t. presently to re- turn with her father and Bob. When dinner was disposed of, Richard sug- nested that it was " wonderful warm so handy t th' stove," and leaving Mrs. Gray and Em- i^y to clear the table he conducted Shad and Bob to a convenient seat near the boat land- ing, where they could enjoy a cooling breeze IT< :, the bay. Here he drew from his pocket a . .ck of very black and very strong-looking toacco, and holding it toward Shad, asked: " Does you smoke, sir? " " No, thank you," declined Shad. " I had just learned to smoke when I entered college, bnt I was trying for a place on the 'varsity Dine, and I had to drop smoking. A fellow can't play his best ball, you know, if he smokes. So I quit smoking before I formed the habit." " Is that a game like snowshoe raoin'T " asked Bob. n THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF " Oh, not " and Shad described the game and its tactica minutely, with thrilling details of battles that his college nine had won and lost upon the diamond. "Well, Bob," Shad asked finally, "have yon decided to go with me for a trip into the country! " "I'm not rightly knowin', sir, where you wants t' go," said Bob. Shad stated the object of his journey, and the three talked over the possibilities of mak- ing such a trip as he desired within the time at Bob's disposal. " Countin' on bad weather, 'twouldn't be much of a trip you could make in a fortnut, and that'd be th' most time Bob could spare, what- ever, with his gettin' ready t' go t' th' trails," Richard finally explained. " His mother an' me be wanfij' he home, too, till he goes, for 'twill be a long winter for his mother t' have he away without seein' he. " Now you says you has no hurry t' go away. Dick Blake an' Bill Campbell goes t' th' handiest tilt o' th' Big Hill trail t' help Bob an' Ed Matheson in with their outfit, an' they starts th* first o' August. Then they AWAY TO THE TRAILS outfits 08 cornea back f take their up an' they has t' get in before freeze up. " You bein' in no hurry, sir, could go with un on th' first trip, an' come back with nn, an' that gives you a fine trip an' a fine view o' th' country. It takes un a month t' go in, but run- nin- back light wi' th' rapids they makes un m a week, so you gets back th' first week in September month. " " 'Twould be grand t' have yon along, sir I " exclaimed Bob. " An' I were never thinkin' 0' that. Father's wonderful at plannin' " "Done I" said Shad. "I'll do it, but I hope you won't find me a nuisance around here dunng the three weeks we have to wait." " Oh, no, sir! 'Tis a rare treat t' have yon visit us, sir! " protested Richard. And thus it was finally decided. Bob was very busy during the days that fol- lowed. Not only his provision and clothing supply for a ten months' absence from home was to be made ready, but also the full equipment for the new trails to be estab- lished. The necessary traps had already been pur- chased, but sheet-iron had to be fashioned into Bi THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF stoves and stove-pipe to heat the tents and log tilts, and one new tent was to be made. It was imperative, too, that each minor necessity that the wilderness itself could not readily sup- ply, he provided in advance, and that nothing be forgotten or overlooked. The establishment of these trails was an event of high importance in the Gray house- hold. Bob's little fortune of a few thousand dollars, derived from the salvage of a trading schooner the previous year, had been depos- ited in a St. Johns bank, and his thrifty old friend, Douglas Campbell, had suggested that it might be invested to advantage in a small trading venture. " Bob can lay his trails this winter," said Douglas, "an' next year take some tradin' goods in. Knowin' th' Nascaupee an' Moun- taineer Injuns, an' a bit o' their lingo, he'll be able t' do a snug bit o' tradin' with un, along with his trappin'. An' if you opens a little store here at th' Bight next summer, th' rest of you can 'tend un when Bob's inside trappin '. " I were thinkin', too," said Douglas, " 'twould be fine t' send Emily t' St. Johns AWAY TO THE TRAILS 65 t' school th' winter, an' she'd learn t' keep th' books. She's a smart lass, an' she'd learn, now, in a winter or two winters, whatever, an' 'twould pay-an' do th' lass a wonderful lot o' good. I'm wantin' a trip f St. Johns, an' I'd take she on th' mail boat." There were many long discussions before it was finally decided that Bob should launch upon the venture. Bob's mother opposed it. The terrible winter of suspense when Bob, lost in the snow, was given up for dead, was still a vivid remembrance to her. She recalled those tedious months of grief as one recalls a horrid nightmare, and she declared that an- other such winter, particularly if she were to be deprived of Emily's society, would be un- endurable. But her objections were finally overcome. Emily was to go to school and it was decided Bob should establish two new trails. One of these he was to hunt himself, the other one Ed Matheson had agreed to hunt on a profit-shar- ing basis. Dick Blake and Bill Campbell- a son of Douglas Campbell— were to occupy adjoining trails, and the four to work more or less in conjunction with one another. M THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF Shad and EmUy became fast friends at once. On pleasant afternoons she would lead him away to explore the surrounding woods in search of wild flowers, and after supper he would tell her fairy tales from Grimm, but best of all she liked his stories from Greek and Roman mythology. She, and the whole family, indeed, listened with rapt attention when Shad related how Chronos attacked Uranos with a sickle, wound- ing and driving Uranos from his throne; how from some of the drops that fell from Uranos 's wounds sprang giants, the forefathers of the wild Indians; how from still other drops came the swift-footed Furies— the three Erinnyes— who punished those who did wrong, and were the dread of the wicked. Thus the days passed quickly and pleas- antly—even the occasional foggy or rainy days, when Bob and his father worked in- doors, and Bob, at Emily's request, recounted very modestly his own adventures. Emily particularly liked to have Bob tell of Ma-ni- ka-wan, an Indian maiden who nursed him back to health after Sish-e-ta-ku-shin and Moo- koo-mahn, Manikawan's father and brother, AWAY TO THE TRAILS 57 had found him unconscious in the snow and earned him to their skin wigwam. " Th' Nascaupees was rare kind f me " Bob explained to Shad. " They made me one o th' tribe, Sishetakushin calls me his son an' they gives me an Indian name meanin' in our talk ' White Brother o' th' Snow.' They were thinkin' I'd stop with un, an' they were wonderful sorry when I leaves un t' come home with th' huskies. Manikawan were a pretty maid— as pretty as ever I see." " Were she as pretty as Bessie, nowJ " asked Emily slyly. " Now, Emily, dear, don't go teasin' Bob " warned Mrs. Gray. ' " I were just askin' he," said Emily; " he's so wonderful fond o' Bessie." " O' course he's fond 0' Bessie, and so be all of us. Emily's speakin' 0' Bessie Black sir," Mrs. Gray explained, to Shad. " She's Tom Black's lass. Tom is th' factor's man over t' th' post, an' th' Blacks be great friends of ours. Bessie's but a young maid-a year younger'n Bob. You'll see th' Blacks when you goes over t' th'post with Bob." " I'm immensely interested in your liidian 08 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF friends," said Shad. " Manikawan was a lit- tle brick, and the Nascaupees bully good fel- lows. Will there be a chance of my meeting themf " " No, they camps on lakes down t' th' n'uth'ard in summer," Bob explained. " If you was stayin' th' winter, now, you'd see un." "I'm almost persuaded to remain on the trails with you all winter, and see something of the life of real, uncivilised Indians," as- serted Shad. ' ' I would stay if it were not for college." " 'Twould be fine t' have you, now! " ex- claimed Bob enthusiastically. " But," he added doubtfully, " I'm fearin' you'd find th' winter wonderful cold, an' th' tilts lonesome places t' stop in, not bein' used to un." "An' your mother would be worryin' about you; now, wouldn't shet " suggested Mrs. Gray. " My mother died when I was a little boy, and Father died two years ago," said Shad. " I have one sister, but she learned long ago that I could take care of myself." " Is she a little sister? " asked Emily. AWAY TO THE TRAILS 59 " Oh, no," said Shad, " she's a big, mar- ned sister, and has a little girl of her own nearly as old as you are." " 'Twould be grand t' have you stay," Bob again suggested. " Thank you, and it would be grand to stay, I'm sure, but," said Shad regretfully, " I can't do it. I must go back to college." At length Bob announced one day that his outfit was completed and that all was in readi- ness, save a few incidentals to be purchased at the Hudson's Bay Company's trading post, fifteen miles across the bay. Shad, too, found It necessary to make some purchases prepara- tory to his journey to the interior, and the following morning the two sailed away in Bob's dory. Tom Black, the post servant, welcomed them as they stepped ashore on the sandy beach below the post, and with him was Bob's old friend, Douglas Campbell, who stated that he had arrived at the post an hour earlier. "I'm glad you come over. Bob," said he, as the four walked up toward Black's cabin " When I comes t' th' post this momin' I 60 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF were thinkin' f go back t' Kenemish by way of Wolf Bight t' have a talk with you, but your comin' saves me th' cruise. Set down here, now, a bit, till dinner's ready. I wants t' hear your plans for th' trails." And while Shad was carried off by Tom to meet Mr. McDonald, the factor, Douglas and Bob seated themselves upon a bench before the cabin and discussed the proposed new trails. " Now, Bob, 'tis this I were wantin' t' say to you, an' I weren't wantin' t' say it when your mother 'd hear, an' set her worryn'," said Douglas finally. " Don't forget you're goin' where no white trapper was ever goin' before. You'll have to be a wonderful sight more careful than on th' Big Hill trail. Last year when I goes on th' Big Hill trail some Mmgen Injuns come t' th' last tilt an' made some trouble, an' told me they'd never let a white trapper hunt th' country beyond th' Big Hill trail, an' you plans f go, Bob. Now, if you works west'ard of a line from th' last tilt o' th' Big Hill trail an' th' river, be won- derful careful o' th' Mingens. They's a bad lot of Injuns." AWAY TO THE TRAILS gl '' I'll be careful, sir," promised Bob, add- "You never knows what an Injun's goin' f do.', cauhoned Douglas. •' You was findin- LremT" '""'''' '"* '^' ^-^- " to^dirr"'' ?."" '""^'^ '^"^ ""-^ '"-"«d them to dinner m the crudely furnished but spot- lessly clean living-room of the cabin. Zt Black a stout, motherly woman, had countless quest. , , ,, ^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^ JJ th folks t' home " fared, while she and her daughter Bessie served the meal Shad dined with Mr. McDonald, but directly after dinner jomed Bob while they made thei'r purchases in the shop, and prepared fr im- mediate departure to Wolf Bight. When all ^as ready. Bob left Shad waitfngatT^boa while he returned to the cabin to say good- bye to Mrs. Black and Bessie. Bessie foDowed him to the door, and when they were outside where none could see she drew from beneath her apron a buckskin cart- ndge pouch, upon which she had neatly worked ".silktheword..BoB..inthecentrr2a W THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF floral design, doubtless the result of many days' labour. " Here, Bob," said she, " I were makin' it for you, an' when you carries it on th' trail remember we're all thinkin' of you down here, an' wishin' you luck in th' furrin', an' hopin' you're safe." " OhI— Bessie— 'tis— 'tis wonderful kind of you— I'll always be rememberin'," Bob stam- mered in acceptance, for a moment quite overcome with surprise and embarrassment. " Now take care of yourself. Bob. We'll be missin' you th' winter— good-bye. Bob." " Good-bye, Bessie." Bob and Shad quickly hoisted sail, and as they drew away from shore Bob looked back to see Bessie still standing in the cabin door, waving her handkerchief to him, and he re- gretted that he had not shown more plainly his appreciation of her gift and her thought- fulness. The following Monday was the day set for the departure of the adventurers, and in ac- cordance with a previous arrangement, late on Sunday afternoon Dick Blake, Ed Matheson, and Bill Campbell, Ungava Bob's trapping AWAY TO THE TRAttS 63 companions, joined him and Shad at Wolf Bjght where they were to spend the night. Bill Campbell was a tall, awkward, bashful young man of twenty-one, whose chief physical characteristic was a great shock of curly red Monday morning came all too soon. Break- fas was eaten by candle light, and with the first grey hints of coming dawn the boat and fehad 8 canoe were loaded for the start Shad's tent and camping equipment, less heavy and cumbersome than Bob's, together with a hmited supply of provisions for daily use upon the journey to the plateau, were car- r.ed m the canoe. The bulk of the provisions and the heavier outfit for the trails, made up into easily portaged packs, were stowed in the boat. This arrangement of the outfit was made to avoid the necessity of unpacking and repackmg at night camp, and with packs thus always ready for the carry, much time could be saved. The family gathered at the shore to bid the travellers farewell. First, the boat with Dick Blake, Ed Matheson, and Bill Campbell at the oars pulled off into the curtain of heavy 6« THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF morning mist that lay upon the waters. Then Bob kissed his mother and Emily, pressed his father's hand, took his place in the canoe with Shad, and a moment later they, too, were swallowed up by the fog. The long journey, to be followed by a win- ter of hardship and adventure, was beg^in, and with heavy hearts the little family upon the shore turned back to their lowly cabin and weary months of misgiving and uncertainty. IN THE FAR WILDERNESS BEYOND the sheltered bight a good breeze was blowing and presently, as he water, Shad and Bob, keeping close to shore, discovered the boat a half-mile away w.th^ sails hoisted, bowling along at gooJ ''We'll be makin- rare time, now," said Bob. "We'll be passin- Rabbit Island in an hour, an' makin' the Traverspine t' bcU th' Kettle for dmner." " No rapids to-day» " asked Shad. "No, th' portage at Muskrat Falls is th' firs, answered Bob, adding uncertainly: I m 'feared you'll find th' work on th' river w«,nsome, not bein- used t' un-th' portagin' an'trachn'. I finds nn hard." ^^ " That's a part of the game," said Shad. I expect to do my share of the work, old M THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF man, and I don't think you'll find me a quit- ter." " I were knowin', now, you were that kind, ever since I picks you out o' th' Bay," ex- elaimi'd Bob. " You weren't login' your head, an' by th' time I h'ists sail you was wringin' th' water outen your shirt, just as if 'tweren't nothin '. An ', Mr. Trowbridge, I likes you ever since." " Thank you. Bob, but if you want me to be your friend drop the handle from my name and call me ' Shad.' We're on an equal foot- ing from this on." " 'Twill be wonderful hard, Mr. Trow " "Shad I" " 'Twill be wonderful hard t' call you 'Shad '-it sounds kind of nnrespectful, now." " Not in the least," laughed Shad. " All the fellows call me Shad." "I'll try t' think now t' do it, Mr.— I means Shad. But 'tis a rare queer name." " Shadraeh is the full name. It is pretty awful, isn't itf But doting parents cast it upon me, and I'll have to hold my head up under it." ^ IN THK rvR WILDERXESS „ Ti« a Bible name now t . ■ distance. Bob called out " '"'"'"'"^ "I'm thinkin' me an> Shad 'II go on t' tl- tlT?rr'''"'^^*'""'''-'''-e"*ke. tie bo. led when you comes up. We ought f ma_keclostt'th.Traverspinebynoon7 You an' whof " bawled Dick •'Me an' Shad-Mr. Trowbridge." time.'. "''*'" '""'""'^ ^'"'^' " '"^" «ave "Bob's getdn' wonderful nnrespectful -mn'Mr. Toobridge.Shadl'.'reraS -, 'Tis Cbreg-rwCe-rS be calhn' he wrong t' his face again." PH r ."" J*""!^"' y*"" ''^ right this time, Dick," Ed reluctantly admitted. sh„?\''*5*'' ""'* '^'"''' *=«°°« ^^^ already shot ahead and was out of hearing. Bob'I mmd filled with plans for the fuL, Shad «8 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF enjoying the wide vista of water and wilder- ness, they paddled in silence. The brilliant sunshine, the low, rocky shores, the spruce-clad hills rising above, with now and again a breath of the perfumed forest wafted to them upon the breeze, inspired and exhilarated the young voyageurs. Shad was conscious of a new sense of freedom and power taking possession of him. The romance of the situation appealed to his imagination. Was he not one of an adventurous band of pioneers going into a vast wilderness, an untamed and unexplored land, to battle with nature and the elements? For several hours they paddled, finally en- tering the wide river mouth. Here the first in- dication of a current was encountered, and the northern bank was followed closely that they might take advantage of counter eddies, and thus overcome the retarding effect of the midstream current. " 'Twill be noon when th' boat comes, an' we'll stop now t' boil th' kettle," Bob finally suggested. " Th' Traverspine River is handy by. She comes into this river just above here a bit." Don't make such a hig tire" _. IN THE FAR WaDERNESS 69 " Good! " exclaimed Shad. "I'm nearly famished, and I've been hoping for the last hour to hear you say that." " Paddlin' do make for hunger," admitted Bob, as he stepped ashore on a sandy beach near the mouth of a rushing brook. " I'm a bit hungry myself. I'll be puttin' a fire on now, an' you brings up th' things from th' canoe." In an incredibly short time the fire was lighted, and when Shad brought up a kettle of water from the rivjr Bob had already cut a stiff pole about five feet in length. The butt end of this he sharpened, uad, jamming it into the ground, inclined it in such manner that the kettle, which he took from Shad and hung by its bail upon the other end of the pole, was suspended directly over the blaze. Bob, who installed himself as cook, now sliced some fat pork to fry, while Shad gath- ered a quantity of large dry sticks which lay plentifully about and began piling them upon the fire. " Oh, don't make such a big fire, now! " ex- claimed Bob, when he discovered what Shad was about. " 'Twill be too hot f cook by. A 70 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF small bit o' fire's enough; " and he proceeded to pull out of the blaze the large wood which Shad had placed upop it. " If there's nothing else for me to do, I'll see if there are any trout in that brook," said Shad. Shad made his first cast in a promising pool a little way from the fire, and the moment the fly touched the water, " zip I " went the reel. The result was a fine big trout. Within twenty minutes he had landed eighteen, and when presently the bott drew up a delicious odour of frying fish welcomed the three hungry men as they sprang ashore and made the painter fast. " Shad got un," explained Bob, in response to an exclamation of pleasure from Ed. " You means Mr. Towbridge, Bob," cor- rected Dick, with dignity. "No," broke in Shad, " Bob's right. Shad is my front name and I want you fellows to call me Shad; leave the handle off." "An' you wants, sir," agreed Dick. " 'Tis a bit more friendly soundin'." " Them trout makes me think," said Ed, as he cut some tobacco from a plug and filled IN THE FAR WILDERNESS 71 hi« pipe after dinner, "of onct I were out h«nt.n- pa-tridge. I gets plenty o pa" ndges, but I finds myself wonderful hungry for tvout when I comes to a pool in a brook where I stops t' cook my dinner an' sees a big un jump. » " ' Now,' says I, f myself, ' Ed,' says I you got f get un somehow,' an' I goes' through my pocket lookin' for tackle. All I finds IS a piece o' salmon twine an' one fish Jook. ' I'll try un, whatever,, says I a„: I cuts a pole an' ties th' salmon twine t' un, an th', 00k t' th- salmon twine, an,' baitin' «> hook with a bite pa 'tridge skin, throws "Quicker'n a steel trap a trout takes un Idontpullhenghtin. Then before I knows ita b,g trout takes an' swallows th' little un " Ed paused to lend effect to the climax, while he^l^hted hxs pipe and began puffiug ..go. ^J Well, .' asked Shad. " Did you land "Not very prompt," continued Ed "T was so flustrated I just looks at un for'a bit. 7« THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF skiddin' aronnd in th' water. Then, while I lets un play, quicker 'n I can say ' boo ' an old whopper up an' grabs th' big un an' swallows he. Then I yanks, an' I lands th' three of un. " Th' outside un were two foot and a half long an' a fraction over. I measures he. Th' next one were nineteen an' three-quarters inches long, an' th' little un were ten inches long. Th' little un an' th' next weren't hurt much, an' not wantin' they I throws un back, an' th' big un does me for dinner an' sup- per an' breakfast th' next mornin', an' then I throws a big hunk that were left over away, because I don't want t' pack un any longer." " Ed," said Dick solemnly, " you'll be struck dead some day for lyin' so." " Who? Me lyin'? " asked Ed, with as- sumed indignation. " Yes, you. You'm always yamin', Ed. You never seen a trout moren't two foot long, no more'n I have," declared Dick. " Oh, well," sighed Ed, while the others laughed, " they's no use tellin' you of hap- penin's, Dick, you always were a doubtin' o' me." The following day at noon the Muskrat IN THE FAR WILDERNESS 78 Falls were reached, and here the real work and hardship of the journey began. Day after day the men were driven to toil with tracking lines up swift currents, more often than not immersed to their waists in the icy waters of the river, or for weary miles they staggered over portages with heavy loads upon their backs. To add to their difficulties a season of ram set in, and hardly a day passed without Its hours of drizzle or downpour. But they could not permit rain or weather to retard their progress. Always between sunrise and sunset they were tormented, too, by myriads of black flies and mosquitoes, the pests of the North. There was no protection against the attacks of the insects. The black flies were particulariy vi- cious; not only was their bite poisonous, but a drop of blood appeared wherever one of them made a wound, and in consequence the faces, hands, and wrists of the toiling voy- ageurs were not alone constantly swollen, but were coated with a mixture of blood and sweat. Shad, less toughened than his companions, suffered more than they. He was actually 7* THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF made Ul for a day or two by the poison thus inoculated into his system, though with his characteristic determination, he still insisted, against the protests of tho ofhers, upon doing his full share of the work Jick advised him, finally, to carry a fat pc v rind in his pocket and to occasionally apply the greasy side of the rind to his face and hands. This he dis- covered offered some relief, though, as he re- marked, grease, added to blood and sweat, gave him the appearance of a painted savage. With the evening camp-fire, however, came a respite to the weary travellers, and recom- pense for all the hardship and toil of the day. Here they would relax after supper, and with vast enjoyment smoke and chat or tell stories of wild adventure. Shad contributed tales of college pranks, which never failed to bring forth uproarious laughter, while his vivid descriptions of bat- tles on the gridiron or on the diamond, illus- trated with diagrams drawn with a stick upon the ground, and minutely explained, held his hearers in suspense until the final goal wa.s kicked or the last inning played. Dick and Ed described many stirring per- IN THE FAR WILDERNESS 75 sonal adventures, the latter embellishing his Btone« wUh so many fantastic flights of ilgi. •>ahon that Shad would scarcely have kno,vn where fact ended and fiction began had D^ of he eternal vengeance that awaited Ed If hed.d„ot"haveacareofhisyamin". One morning during the third week after leaving Wolf Bight, a beautiful sheet of pad vista to the northwest. On either side of the narrow lake rose towering cliffs of gran te heir dark faces lighted at intervals by brook-' lets tumbling in cascades from the heights above. A loon laughed weirdly in the di tance, and from the hills above a'wolf so ndd ad,.,^alhowl. It was a scene of rugged, pri meval grandeur, and Shad, taken cSplete ^ by surprise, caught his breath " TlZ'll'^L'' Wanakapow,'. explained Ed. 'T^ ^^"^'"■'^'■''"'^'"'P-t^^-'- Tw.ll be straight sailin' an' paddlin' from this on. Th' first tilt C th' Big Hill trail^ un by th' end o' th' week, whatever " For the first time since their departure the 76 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF voyageurs were enabled to don dry clothing, with the assurance that they could remain dry and comfortable throughout the day. The evenings were becoming frosty and exhilarat- ing. The black flies and mosquitoes had ceased to annoy. Wild geese and ducks upou the waters, and flocks of ptarmigans along tlie shores, gave promise of an abundance and variety of food. With the changed conditions, in marked con- trast to the toil and hardships of the preceding weeks. Shad's desire to remain throughout the winter grew. The lure of the wilderness had its power upon him. The first tilt of the Big Hill trail was reached on Saturday, as Ed had predicted. Here camp was pitched, the boat finally un- loaded, and preparation made for Dick and Bill to begin their return voyage on Monday morning. When supper was eaten and they were gath- ered about the evening camp-fire in blissful relaxation, silently watching the aurora bore- alis work its wild wonders in the sky. Shad suddenly asked: " Are you certain. Bob, I'd not be a burden IN THE FAR WILDERNESS TT to you if I remained here all wintert Yon know, I'm a tenderfoot in the woods." "Oh no I" Bob assured enthusiastically. You d be no burden! An- when your feet gets^ tender you can bide in th' tilt an' rest "I don't mean that my feet are tender in that way," laughed Shad, " but I'm a novice m woodcraft and I've never done any trap- mg. You'd have to teach me a great deal abou these things, and I don't want to stay It 1 il hinder your work in the least." " Oh, you'd never be hinderin' th' work! An' you'd be a wonderful lot o' company, whatever! I hopes you'll stay, Shad! " "Thank you. Bob. I'll stay. It will put me back a whole year in college, but I'll stay any- how. My experience with you will be worth the sacrifice of a year in college, I'm sure." Now that be grand ! " exclaimed Bob, his lace beaming pleasure. ''An' Shad stays, Ed, he'll give Bob a hand with th' tilts," suggested Dick. " Can't you go back, now, with me an' Bill, f help us up with our outfits J 'Twill be a wonderful hard an slow pull for just th' two of us." MiaiocofY nsounioN test chmt (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No, 2) _^ APPLIED IfVMGE Ine S^ 1653 Cost Main Strest r*.S Rochester. Nsm Vo.. U609 USA '.g (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone ^a (716) 288 - 5909 - Fo> TO THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF " Be you thinkin', now, you can manage th' tilts? " asked Ed, turning to Bob. "0' course me an' Shad can manage un," assured Bob. "I'll go back, then, Dick," consented Ed. " 'Twould be hard t' manage with just two on th' boat." Arrangements were made for the three trap- pers to bring Shad some adequate winter cloth- ing upon their return, letters were written home, and at daylight on Monday morning adieus were said. Bob and Shad stood upon the shore watching the boat bearing their friends away, until it turned a bend in the river below and was lost to view. " We'll not see un again for five weeks," said Bob regretfully, as they retraced their steps to the embers of the camp-fire over which breakfast had been' cooked. " And in the meantime," began Shad gaily, with a sweep of his arm, " we are monarchs of all " Suddenly he stopped. His eyes, following the sweep of his arm, had fallen upon two Indians watching them from the shadow of the spruce trees beyond their camp. VI 'S' OLD FRIENDS JISHETAKUSHIN and Mookoomahn ! " exclaimed Bob. The moment they were recognised the two Indians strode fonvard, laughing, and grasped Bob's hand in a manner that left no doubt of their pleasure at meeting him, while both voiced their feeling in a torrent of tu- multuous words. They were tall, lithe, sinewy fellows, clad in buckskin shirt, tight-fitting buckskin leg- gings, and moccasins. They wore no hats, but a band of buckskin, decorated in colours, pass- ing around the forehead, held in subjection the long black hair, which fell nearly to their shoulders. In the hollow of his left arm each carried a long, muzzle-loading trade gun, and Mookoomahn, the younger of the two, also car- ried at his back a bow and a quiver of arrows. " These be th' Injuns I were tellin' you of," 79 80 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF ■i ■■;» Bob finally introduced, when an opportunity offered. " Shake hands with un, Shad. This nn is Sishetakushin, an' this un is his son, Mookoomahn. I 've been tellin ' they you 're my friend." In their attitude toward Shad they were dig- nified and reserved. Neither could speak Eng- lish, and Bob, who had a fair mastery of the Indian tongue, interpreted. " We are glad to meet the friend of White Brother of the Snow," said Sishetakushin, acting as spokesman. " We welcome him to our country. White Brother of the Snow tells us he will remain for many moons. He will visit our lodge with White Brother of the Snow and eat our meat. He will be welcome." " I thank you," responded Shad. " White Brother of the Snow has told me how kind you were to him when he was in trouble, and it is a great pleasure to meet you. I will certainly visit your lodge with him and eat your meat." The ceremony of introduction completed, Bob renewed the fire and brewed a kettle of tea for his visitors. They drank it greedily, and at a temperature that would have scalded a white man's throat. OLD FRIENDS 81 " They's wonderful fond o' tea, and to- bacco, too," explained Bob, "an' they only gets un when they goes t' Ungava onct or twict a year." Upon Bob's suggestion that, should they meet Indians, it would prove an acceptable gift, Shad had purchased at the post and brought with him a bountiful supply of black plug tobacco, such as the natives used, and with this hint from Bob he gave each of the Indians a half-dozen plugs. The swarthy faces and black eyes of the visitors lighted with pleasure, and from that moment much of the reserve that they had hitherto maintained toward hJm vanished. " The friend of White Brother of the , ^ow is generous," said Sishetakushin, in accept- ing the tobacco. " For four moons we have had nothing to smoke but dried leaves and the bark of the red willow." Each Indian carried at his belt a pipe, the bowl fashioned from soft, red pipe stone, the stem a hollow spruce stick. Squatting upon their haunches before the fire, they at once fiUed their pipes with tobacco, lighted them 8S THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF with coals from the fire, and blissfully puffed in silence for several minutes. " How are Manikawan and her mother t " Bob presently inquired. " The mother is well, but the maiden has grieved long because White Brother of the Snow never returns," answered Sishetakushin. " She watches for him when the Spirit of the Wind speaks in the tree-tops. She watches when the moon is bright and the shadow spir- its are abroad. She watches when the evil spirits of the storm are raging in fury through the forest. She watches always, and is sad. Young men have sought her liand to wife, but she has denied them. White Brother of the Snow will return. He will come again to our lodge, and the maiden will be joyful." Shad was unable to understand a word of this, but Bob's face told him plainly that some- thing not altogether pleasant to the lad had been said. " I cannot go now," said Bob, speaking in the Indian tongue. " We must build our lodges and lay our trails. Winter will soon be upon us and we must have the lodges built before the Frost Spirit freezes the earth." OLD FRIENDS 8S " Si8hetakn8h.n's lodge is always open to White Brother of the Snow. It is pitched upon the shores of the Great Lake,' two-days' journey to the northward. The trail is plain. It lies through two lakes and along water run- • Ding to the Great Lake. The maiden is wait- ing for White Brother of the Snow. He was made one of our people. He is welcome. " The Indians had risen to go, and Bob pre- sented them with a package of tea, as a part- ing gift, which they accepted. " White Brother of the Snow will come to our lodge soon and bring with him his friend," said Sishetakushin, in accepting the tea, and he and Mookoomahn, like shadows, disap- peared into the forest. " Injuns be queer folk, but they were good friends t' me when I were needin' friends," said Bob, when the Indians were gone. i>,:^:s^:'^z'''''''''''^''''"'"''''^'^''^'''-'<^on I'll vn WHERE THE EVIL SPIRITS DWELL FROM the river tilt, as they called it, where their camp was pitched, the Big Hill trail led to the northwest for fif- teen miles, then fifteen miles to the westward, where it took a sharp turn to the northward, in which direction it continued for nearly thirty miles, then again swung to the west- ward for fifteen mile-j, where it terminated on the shores of a small lake. This was the trail previously hunted by Bob. Douglas Campbell had visited the Big Hill trail the preceding winter, but had not re- mained to hunt, and it had therefore been un- occupied during the winter. For the season at hand it had been transferred to Dick Blake, while Dick's own trail, farther down the river, was to remain untenanted, and the animals given an opportunity to increase. Di ectly below the Big Hill trail and adjoining it was Bii: Campbell's trail. M WHERE THE EVIL SPIRITS DWELL M Bob had been informed by Mountaineer In- Aans who camped during a portion of each follow^g a stream flowing into the river a ^hortd^tance above the ri .. tilt of the Big ^J^'^lo^ ' west-northwe.terIy' "", ne would find a series of lakes run n ng almost parallel with the river, and iZ between the river and the Big Hill trail."^ * lakes had at one time been an Indian portage route around the Great Falls of the Grand Bjver, but for m.ny years it had been gene" ally avoided by Indians because of its prox -% to the falls, which were suppo to bj he abode of evil spirits, a superSion d ubt less ansing from the fact that Indian canoes ^y have been caught in the current above the i:e:m:•"^'^'"*'"•="°°^«^ falls themselves, whose thunderous roar may l^^heard for many miles, echoing through tS rar^erbefn'/"* ^'^^ '^'^ "'^•''" ^«<^ "ut rarely been traversed, and had certainly not been hunted by Indians for many generaLrs! 86 THE GAUNT GRA\ WOLF fl:^^' and that the aiiiiuals witliiu thu coniiidcrable territory which it embraced liad therefore been iiermitted to increase undisturbed by man, Bob argued that i' miist of necessity prove a rich trapping grouuu for the first who ventured to invade it. It was here, tlien, that he purposed establishing his ?.<-A trapping trail. The first step to be taken was to make a survey of the region, and with a quantity of steel traps, a limited supply of provisions, and Shad's light tent, the two young adventurers set forward in the canoe upon their scouting journey within the hour after Sishetakushin und Mookoomahn had left them. A long portage and the ascent of a stream for several miles carried them that evening to the first of the series of lakes, where Bob's trained eye soon discovered unquestionable signs of an abur.dance of fur-bearing ani- mals, sustaining his hope that the ground would be found virgin and profitable terri- tory. Their camp was pitched by the lake shore. At their back lay the dark forest, before them spread the shimmering lake, and to the west- WHEHK THE KVIL SPIRTS DWELL 8T ward a high hill lifted its barren poak of weather-beaten, storm-scoured rocks. The atmosphere became cool as eveninir ar,. preached, and when supper was disposed ot the flre was renewed, and, weary with their day 8 work, they recline.l before its genial blaze to watch the sun go do«-n in an effnl- gence of glory and colour. Neither spoke until the colours were well- 2t! '"'' ""' ^''^ '*"" *"''°'''''^ ''^''"'y " The most glorious sunset I ever be See '""'""''"^ ^^"^ ^°"'^' ^''"^'""^ ""^ " 'Tirere fine! " admitted Bob. " We sees un often in here, this time o' year. They makes me think o' what the Bible says th' holy P ace m th' temple was f be like-' A veil o' blue an- purple an' scarlet.' I'm wonderin', now, .f th' Lard weren't makin' these sunsets u t t show what th' holy niace be like, an' t keep us from forgettin' un. I'm wonde. in' If tisn't a b.t o' th' holy place in th temple set^r'"' '^' ^''^'' «'^°^-'"' »« i" them sun- " I doii't know," said Shad; " I don't re- 88 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF member it. I must confeBs I never read my Bible very much." "I'll read un to yon from my Bible when day comes," promised Bob. Presently the aurora borealis flashed up upon the sky with the effect of a thousand powerful searchlights, the long fingers of light rising from the northern horizon to the zenith and flashing from east to west in a maze of every-changing colour— now white— now red — aow yellow. It "as a scene not only beauti- ful, but weird and awe-inspiring. "I'm thinkin', now, o' th' northern lights," remarked Bob, when they hpd watched them for some time, " that they's flashes o' light from heaven. I'm thinkin' th' Lard sends un t' give us promise o' th' glories we'll have when we dies." " That is a cheerful thought, at least," ;>d- mitted Shad. " Yes, 'tis cheerin'. Leastways, they al- ways cheers me when I see un," declared Bob. "Whenever I see them after this," said Shad, " I shall remember your sugges- tion—that they are the reflected glory of WHERE THE EVIL SPIRITS DWELL 89 heaven, gent to inspire the dwellers upon earth." As they arose to retire to their tent tl dead silence of the wilderness was startled by the uncanny cry of a loon. Bob stood for a mo- ment and listened. Then, tiiving to the tent, he remarked: " 'Tis a bad sign, when a loon laughs at night like that! " " In what way! " asked Shad. " 'Tis said t' be a warnin' o' dange an' trouble." In a series of portages from lake to lake they passed the next day through six lakes of vary- ing size, caching traps now and again at con- venient points for future use. All the afternoon a low, rumbling sound was to be heard. Time and again they halted to listen. It was a changeless, sullen, muffled roar. Finally, when they reached the sixth lake, later in the afternoon, their curiosity got the better of them and they climbed a barren eminence to investigate. As they neared the summit the roar increased in volume, and when they reached the top and looked to the southward they beheld a cloud of vapour. II ■ ' 90 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF " 'Tis th' Great Falls o' th' Injuns! " ex- claimed Bob. "Where the evil spirits dwell?" asked Shad. " Aye, where th' evil spirits dwell." Around them lay a rugged scene of sub- Arctic grandeur. To the eastward the coun- try was dotted with a network of small lakes similar to those through which they had been travelling, while to the northward a much larger lake appeared. The shores of these lakes supported a forest of black spruce, but every rise of ground was destitute of other growth than the gray caribou lichen which everywhere carpets the Labrador forest. " There's a grand chance t' lay th' trails " said Bob. " We'll be makin' our trails along th' s'uth'ard lakes an' up t' that big lake, an' Ed's among th' lakes t' th' n'uth'ard." " I'd like to see those falls," suggested Shad. " Can 't we take the morning off to visit them? " " An' you wants," agreed Bob. " We'll be bnildin' a tilt down where th' canoe is an' another on th' first lake, an' I'm thinkin' another on th' big lake above." WHERE THE EVIL SPIRITS DWELL 91 Accordingly the following morning, leaving their camp pitched and their canoe on the lake shore, they turned southward upon an explor- ing expedition. Their tramp carried them across a series of ridges and bogs and finally into a forest. With every step the roar in- creased, and at length they could plainly feel the earth tremble beneath their feet. Suddenly they emerged from the forest to behold a scene of wild and sublime grandeur They stood at the very brink of a mighty chasm. From far above them the river rushed down, a stupendous torrent of foam-crested billows and swirling whirlpools, impatient to make its leap into the depths at their feet where it was presently to be swallowed up in a bank of mist, which shimmered beneath the two adventurers like a giant opal lighted by all the colours of the rainbow.* Below the rainbow-coloured mist the river again ap- peared, rushing in fearful power past bee- tling, frowning cliffs, which directly hid it from view. The very rocks upon which they stood trembled, and a reverberating roar rose •These are the Grand Fall, of Ubrador. The river fall, three hundred and sixteen feet with a .ingle leap. 92 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF '■ from the canyon at their feet, so loud that con- versation was well-nigh impossible. For half an hour they stood enthralled by the scene, then they turned up the river, walk- ing along its bank. " 'Tis an awful place down there," re- marked Bob. " I'm not wonderin', now, th' Injuns thinks 'tis possessed by evil spirits." " It is the most sublime scene I ever be- held," declared Shad. " One glimpse of it 18 worth all the trouble we've had in gettinir here." The river gradually widened, but always Wth a strong current, even above the heavy white rapids, until some five miles above the falls it expanded into a large island-dotted lake. At the extreme lower end of this lake the old Indian portage trail was discovered, and following it the explorers late in the day reached their camp. The following weeks were devoted to the erection of tilts-small log cabins to be used in winter as shelter. One was established well up the shores of the large lake expansion above the falls, another upon the shores of the lake from which they had made their excur- WHERE THE EVIL SPIRITS DWELL 93 sion to the falls, and still another upon the first lake above the river tilt of the Big Hill trail, whUe to the northward near other lakes fonr other tilts were erected, at convenient distances apart, for Ed's use. These tilts were all constructed upon the same general plan. They were on an average about eight by ten feet in size, with a slightly sloping roof so low in the rear Bob could scarcely stand erect. The chinks between the logs were filled with caribou moss. The roof logs were covered with boughs, over which was spread first a blanket of moss and then a coating of six mches of earth. Each was provided with a doorway about four feet in height and two and a half feet wide, which was fitted with a door constructed of lashed saplings covered with bark. Within, a platform of flat "tones was ar- ranged to accommodate the sheet-iron stove with a stove-pipe hole through the roof di- rectly over it. Long, springy saplings were utilised in erecting bunks at the rear and along the side of the tilt opposite the stove. These were 94 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF later to be covered with spruce boughs, and would serve both as beds and seats, and were elevated some eighteen inches above the earth floor. " They'll be warm an' snug," said Bob. " When frosty weather an' winter comes th' snow soon banks un up an' covers un up, roof and all, and makes nn good an' tight." " But how do you get air enough to breathe! " asked Shad. " Th' stove-pipe hole is made plenty big," explained Bob, "an' that lets th' bad air out, an' we mostly has a snow tunnel leadin' t' th' door so th' wind won't strike in, an' leavin' th' door off, th' good air comes in." Nearly four weeks had been consumed in this work, and without waiting for the reap- pearance of their friends they began at once the distribution of supplies among the tilts, for September was nearly spent and winter would be upon them by mid-October, when ice in the lakes would render the canoe useless. Therefore, with all haste they proceeded with their first canoeload of provisions to the farthest tilt, built upon the shores of the lake expansion above the falls. WHERE THE EVIL SPIRITS DWELL 95 It was mid-forenoon of a beautiful, trans- parent September day when they reached the tut The supplies were quickly stowed be- neath the bunks, the tent stove erected, and, halting only long enough to make tea, they launched their canoe for the return. " We'll be makin' th' river tilt'before we sleeps,'- said Bob. " They's a moon, an' we'll finish by moonlight, an' to-morrow we'll be gettm' out with th' next load. If we travels fast we can make th' river tilt before mid- night, whatever! " The portage trail left the river at a point some ten miles below the tilt, and as previ- ously stated, at the lower end of the lake where the current began to gather strength tor its final tumultuous rush toward the falls They had paddled the distance in two hours and were congratulating themselves upon their good progress as they turned the canoe toward the portage landing, when suddenly they were startled by a burst of wild, blood- curdlmg whoops, and a half-dozen strange Lidians, guns levelled, rose upon the shore. " Mingens! " exclaimed Bob. A warning in the Indian tongue was shouted 96 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF at them that they must not attempt to land. A shot was fired over their heads to emphasise the fact that the savages were in earnest, and with no alternative, and taken wholly hy sur- prise. Shad at the steersman's paddle astern, swung the canoe out into the stream, still con- tinuing down the river. "Upstream I Upstream! Turn about!" shouted Bob. In the excitement and confusion that fol- lowed the first few moments after the attack, much valuable time had been lost in inef- fectual manoeuvres, and when the canoe was finally turned about they were far out into the stream, and it was found that the insidious current had caught them. Bob was the first to recognise the danger, and in a sharp, tense voice he commanded : "Quick! \7oTk for your life! If th' rapid gets us, 'twill carry us over th' falls! " Then they paddled— paddled as none had ever paddled before. But already the power- ful current had them in its grip. Slowly — slowly — but with increasing speed they were drifting toward the awful cataract. They would have braved the Indians now. WHERE THE EVIL SPIRITS DWELL 97 and attempted a landing, but from a point directly below the portage trail, and extending to the white water of the heavy rapids the river bank rose in a perpendicular rampart of amooth-scoured rock, a full ten feet in height, offering no possible foothold. For a little while they hoped, as they worked like madmen. Then the full import of their position dawned upon them— that they were hopelessly drifting tow. rd the brink of the awful cataract. Beads of cold perspiration broke out upon their foreheads. A sickening numbness came into their hearts, and as in a dream they heard the derisive, exultant yells of the savages upon the shore. vm AFTER THE INDIAN ATTACK BELOW tliem rose the appalling roar of the hungry rapids and the dull, thun- derous, monotonous undertone of the falls themselves. Before their vision a vivid p'cture passed of the scene they had so recently beheld -the on- rushing, white piled billows above the cata- ract, gathering strength for their mighty leap —the final plunge of the resistless torrent— the bank of rainbow-coloured mist hovering in space over a dark abyss— and far below and beyond the mist-bank the murky chasm, where a white seething flood was beating its wild anger out against jagged rocks in its mad en- deavour to fight its way to freedom between narrow canyon walls rising in frowning cliffs on either side. Impotent to resist the power that was draw- ing tiem down, Shad Trowbridge and Ungava Bob were certain beyond a doubt that pres- >8 AFTER THE INDIAN ATTACK 99 ently they were to be hurled into this awful chasm, and that in all human probability but 8 few minutes more of life remained to them. Then suddenly there flashed upon Bob's memory the recollection of an island which he had observed when walking along the river bank from th. falls to the portage trail. He remembered that this island was of curi- ous formation, with high polished cliffs rising on its upper end and on either side, like bul- warks to guard it from the rushing tide. At its lower end a long, low, gravelly point reached downward, like a pencil point, among the swirling eddies. The gravel which formed this point, he had remarked at the time, had been deposited by the eddies created by the meeting of the waters where they rushed to- gether from either side below the island. With the recollection of the island came also a realisation that here possibly lay a means of escape. A quick estimate of the distance they had already drifted below the portage trail satisfied him that they were still perhaps half a mile above the island, and probably not too far amidstream to enable them to swing in upon it before it was passed, in which case a 100 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF landing might be made with comparative ease upon the gravelly point. The canoe, as previously stated, was head- ing upstream, with Bob in the bow, Shad in the stem. It was necessary that they turn around and secure a view of the river in order to avoid possible reefs near the island shore, and to properly pick an available landing place. But to attempt to turn the canoe itself in the swift current would in all probability result in fatal delay. Therefore, acting upon the moment's instinct. Bob ceased paddling, arose, a d himself quickly tunied, seating him- self face to the stern, shouting to Shad as he did so: "Tumi I'll steer!" Shad had no doubt Bob had become de- mented, but without question obeyed the com- mand. In this position what had previously been the stem of the canoe now became the bow, Shad Trowbridge the bowman and Un- gava Bob the steersman. The moment paddling ceased the canoe shot forward in the current, heading toward the white waters of the rapids. The manceuvre AFTER THE INDUN ATTACK 101 had not been made a moment too soon, for directly before ibem, a little to the left, lay the island. With a fi.i.k, dexterous turn of the paddle Bob swung the canoe toward the island shore farthest from the mainland and, close under the cliflfs, caught the retarding shore current. A few seconds later the bow of the little craft ground upon the gravelly point, Shad sprang ashore. Bob at his heels, and the canoe was drawn afte. them to safety. For a moment Bob and Shad looked at each other in silence, then Shad txclaimed simply "Thank God I" ^^ " Aye," said Bob reverently, " thank th' Lard. He were watchin ' an • guardin ' us when we were thinkin ' we was lost. 'Tis th ' Lard 's way. Shad." "My God, Bobl Look at that! " exclaimed Shad, pointiug toward the mad white waters below them. " If you hadn't thought of this island, Bob, we'd be in there now-in there- dead! My God, what an escape! And such a death I " Shad sank upon a bowlder, white and trem- bling. He was no coward, but he was hig. r IM THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF imaginative at time*. During the trying period in tlie cnnoe he was cool and brave. He had done his part at the paddle equally as well as Bob. He would have gone to his death without a visible tremor. But now the reac- tion had come, and his imagination ran riot with his reason. " Why, Shad, what's th' matter nowt " asked Bob solicitously. " Were th' strab at th' paddle too mucht Yon looks sick." " No— I'm all right— jnst foolish. I'm afraid you'll think I'm not game, Bob." " Oh, but I knows you is, Shad. I seen you turned over in th' Bay, Shad— an' I knows you'm wonderful brave." " Thank you, Bob. I hope I deserve your opinion." " I were terrible scairt first, when I finds th' canoe's slippin' back toward th' rapid an' I'm seein' no way t' land," said Bob. " Then I stops bein' scairt an' has a feelin' that I don't care " " Just as I felt," broke in Shud. " A sort of hopeless speculation on what A'as going to happen, but not much caring." "Aye," continued Bob. "Then I thinks AFTEn THE INDIAN ATTACK 103 'twill be sore Lard on Mother-my never goin' home-an' I prays th' Lard f bolp u». an' Boon's I says ' Amen ' I thinks o' this island. 'Twere th' Lard puts un in my head, Shad." " I think," said Shad, " it was your quick wit and resourcefulness. Bob." " No," Bob insisted positively, " 'twere th' Lard. An', Shad, we must be thankin' th' i-drd now." Then Ungava Bob and Shad Trowbridge knelt by the side of the boulder, the former reverently, the latter courteously, while Bob prayed aloud: " Dear Lard, Shad and me is wonderf"! thankful that you p'inted out t' us th' landin' place on this island, an'. Lard, we wants t' thank you. We knows. Lard, if you hadn't been p'intin' she out t' us, we'd be dead in th' rapids now, or handy f un. We'll never be forgettin'. An', Lard, keop clost t' Shad an' me always. Amen." " That,' 'said Shad, when they rose to their feet, " was the most honest, simple, straight- forward prayer I ever heard offered. Thank you. Bob, for including me. If the Lord hears 101 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF prayers, Bob, He heard yours, for it was hon- est and from the heart and to the point." " He hears un, Shad, an' He answers un." There was a note of conviction in Bob's tone that left no room for doubt. " We're here, because we're here, because we're here " Shad began to sing. " Bob, I'm feeling all right now, and I guess I've got my nerve back again. Foolish, wasn't it, to get frightened after it was all overt Let's see, now, what the prospects are of getting away." From an eminence in the centre of the island they surveyed their surroundings. The mainland lay not more than a short stone's throw away, but between it and the island the water ran as swift as a mill race. Some two hundred yards below the point on which they had landed the heavy white rapids began, and with but one exception the perpendicular wall of rock that formed the mainland shore ex- tended to and beyond the white water. This exception occurred about half-way be- tween the island and the heavy rapids, where for a distance of some six or eight yards frost action had caused disintegration of the rock. AFTER THE INDUN ATTACK 105 and the wall sloped down toward the river at an angle of forty-five degrees. At the foot of this slope, and on a level with the water, a narrow platform had been formed by the dislodged portion of the rock. Under the most favourable conditions exceedingly ex- pert eanoemen might succeed in making a landing here, but it was plain that the foot- hold offered was so narrow and so unstable that any attempt to make a landing upon it would prove perilous and more than likely fatal. The island itself was oblong in shape and contained an area of three or four acres. Its rocky surface sustained a scant growth of gnarled black spruce and stunted white birch, with here and there patches of brush. From their vantage point no sign of the In- dians who had caused their trouble could be seen, and it was evident they had not de- scended the river bank below the portage trail. " Well, what do you think of it, Bob? " Shad asked. " I'm thinkin', now, th' Injuns are headin' for th' tilt up th' river, an' that they'll be cleanin' un out an' burnin' un. Th' Injuns 106 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF t' th' post tells me they never comes below th portage. They's afraid o' th' evil spirits o' th' falls. But they goes back in th' coun- try sometimes an' circles around by th' Big Hill trail." " But what do you think of trying to cross, and make a landing down there where the rock slopes'/ " inquired Shad. "We'd never make un, Shad," decided Bob. " I Imows th' handlin' o' boats. I'm too un- certain in a canoe, an' so be you. Shad." " What are we to do, then? We can't stay here," insisted Shad. " I'm not knowin' yet. They'll be some way showin'," promised Bob, " but we'll have t' think un out first." " What was the matter with those Indians, anyway? I thought all the Indians were' friendly to white men," Shad asked, as they turned down again to the canoe. " They's Mingen Injuns," explained Bob. " I were forgettin' t' tell you, Shad. When we was t' th' post, Douglas Campbell tells me that last fall some Mingens comes t' th' last tilt 0' th' Big Hill trail an' tells he they'd not let any white trapper hunt above th' Big AFTER THE INDUN ATTACK lOT Hill trail. They's likely seen our tilt up th' river, an' laid for us. I'm sorry, now, I wore bringin' you here an' not tellin' you, Shad." " Oh, don't worry about that. Bob. I'd have come just the same," assured Shad. " In fact, I'd have been all the more ready to come, "ith the prospect of a scrap with In- dians in view. If I'd known, though, I'd have had my eyes open and my rifle ready, and dropped a bullet or two among them before we got caught in the current." " Injuns were never givin' me trouble be- fore, an' I weren't takin' their threatenin' t ' Douglas in earnest, so I forgets all about un till I sees th' Injuns at th' portage trail," Bob explained. " 'Twouldn't have done t' kill any of un. Shad. If you had, th' rest would have laid in th' bushes an' killed u lOr they's no knowin' how many they is of un. Then they'd gone back an' laid for Ed an' Dick an' Bill an' killed they before they'd be knowin' they was any trouble. " Now 'tis more':! likely th' Injuns is thinkin' we be th' only white men about, an' when we thinks up a way o' gettin' 108 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF out o' here we'll give wamin' t' Ed an' th' others, an' being on th' lookout one of us can hold off a hull passel o' Injuns, for we has Winchesters, an' all they has is muzzle-loadin' trade guns." " But suppose we don't get off this island before the others come to look for us? What then? " asked Shad. " If they misses us an' goes lookin' for us, they'll be knowin' we're missin' for some cause. Bill Campbell's been hearin' from his father what th' Mingens were sayin' last-year, an' they'll suspi2ion 'tis th' Mingens an' be watchin' for un." " But I don't understand yet what objec- tion the Mingens have to our trapping here. I supposed this was the country of your Nascau- pee friends." " 'Tis this way," Bob explained. " Th' Nascaupees hunts t' th' n'uth'ard, th' Bay Mountaineers t' th' east'ard, an' th' Mingens t' th' s'uth'ard, an' all of un comes in here- abouts t' get deer's meat, mostly th' Mingens, when deer's scarce- t' th' s'uth'ard, an' they thinks if white trsppers is about th' deer '11 be drove out." AFTER THE INDIAN ATTACK 109 " Well, Bob, let's boil the kettle and try to figure out a plan of escape," suggested Shad. " With the reaction from the morning's ex- citement, I'm developing a vast hunger." " They's not a mouthful o' grub in th' bag, Shad," Bob announced sorrowfully, " only a bit 0' tea with th' kettle an' our cups I leaves un all in th' tilt, thinkin' we'd get back t' th' next tilt an' use th' grub that's there an' I just leaves th' bit o' tea in th' bag." "No grub I" exclaimed Shad. "Then we've got to try to make a landing down on that wall. We can't stay here and starve! " " An' we can't make th' landin'. 'Twould be sure drownin' t' try." " Then it is just a choice between drowning and starving? For my part, I'd rather drown and have it over with, than starve to death! " " Th' Lard weren't showin' us here just f have us die right off," said Bob quietly. " He were savin' us because He's wantin' us t' live, an' He'll be thinkin' if we tries t' make th' landin' knowin' we can't make un, that we're not wantin' f live. If we takes time DOW t' plan un out, th' Lard'Il show ns how." " I wish I had your faith, Bob, but I 110 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF haven't, and I'm still in favour of making a try for the shore," insisted Shad. " However, let us make some tea and argue the matter out later." " Aye, we'll boil th' kettle an' talk un over, whatever," agreed Bob, rising from the rock upon which they had seated themselves, and turning into the scant growth to collect dry sticks for a fire. But instead of collecting the sticks he re- turned to the canoe, secured Shad's double- barrelled shotgun, and a moment later Shad, who was dipping a kettle of water for their tea and had not noticed the movement, was startled by the report of the gun. Looking up, he saw Bob stoop, reach into a clump of bushes, and bring forth a rabbit. " Well, I'll be jiggered! " exclaimed Shad, as Bob held his game aloft for inspection. " I didn't supper there was hide or hair or feather on this wind-blasted, forsaken island of desolation! " " I sees th' signs," said Bob, " an' then I looks about an' sees th ' rabbit. Where they's | one they's like t' be quite a passel of un. They likely crosses over last winter on th' AFTER THE INDIAN ATTACK 111 ice an' th' break-up catches un here an- they can't get off." " That's some relief to the situation. But we've only about a dozen shells in the cauoe " announced Shad, " and when they are gone we'll be as badly off as ever." " We'll not be wastin' shells, now, on rab- bits," said Bob. " They's other ways t' catch nn. I uses that shell f get our dinner. I'll get th' rabbit ready now whilst you puts a fire on." " Very well," agreed Shad, collecting wood for a fire, " and when we've eaten I hope we can think of some way of escape." IX THE INDIAN MAIDEN AT THE RIVER TILT w> LL," said Ed Matheson, as the boat rounded a bend in the river, " there's the river tilt, an' she looks good." " That she do," agreed Dick Blake. " I hopes, now, Bob's there an' has a fire on. I'm wet t' th' last rag." " So be I. This snow an' rain comin' mixed always 'pears t' make a wetter wet 'n just rain alone," observed Ed. " Bob's there now," broke in Bill Camp- bell. " I sees smoke comin' from th' tilt pipe." The voyageurs were returning from Eskimo Bay with their second cargo of winter sup- plies for the trails. Five weeks had elapsed since the morning Ungava Bob and Shad Trowbridge had watched them disappear around the river bend, and returning to camp U3 THE INDIAN JUIDEN ng had found Sishetaknsl.in and MookoomuLn awaiting them at the edge of the forest. Since early morning there had been a steady drizzle of snow and rain, accompanied by a raw searching, easterly wind, a condition of weather that renders wilderness travel most disheartening and disagreeabie. This was, however, the first break in a long series of delightfully cool, transparent days characteristic of Labrador during the month of September, when Nature pauses to take breath and assemble her forces preparatory to casting upon the land the smothering snows and withering blasts of a sub-Arctic winter. Despite the p?<>asant weather, the whole journey from Eskimo Bay had been one of tremendous effort. With but three, instead of five, as on the previous journey, fg trans- port the boat and carry the loads over port- ages, the labour had been proportionately increased. It was, then, with a feeling of intense sat- isfaction and relief that the voyageurs hailed the end of their journey, with its promised rest, when they finally ran their boat to the 114 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF landing below the river tilt of the Big Hill trail. "I'll be tellin' Bob an' Shad we're here now, an' have un help us up with th' outfit," said Ed Matheson cheerily, stepping ashore and striding up the trail leading to the clear- ing a few yards above, in the centre of which stood the trail. But at the edge of the clearing he stopped in open-mouthed amazement. Before the open door of the tilt stood a tall, comely Indian maiden, perhaps seventeen ^-ears of age. She was clad in fringed buckskin garments, deco- rated in coloured designs. Her hair hung in two long black braids, while around her fore- head she wore a band of dark-red cloth orna- mented with intricate beadwork. From her shoulder hung a quiver of arrows, and rest- ing against the tilt at her side was a long bow. She stood motionless as a statue, striking, picturesque and graceful, and for a full min- ute the usually collected and loquacious Ed gazed at her in speechless surprise. " aood evenin'," said he finally, regaining his composure and his power of speech at the THE INDIAN MAIDEV V i same time. " I weren't expei-tin' t' find any one here but Ungava Bob an' Shad Toobridge. Be they in th' tilt! " With Ed's words she took a step forward, and in evident excitement launched upon him a torrent of Indian sentences gjmken so rap- idly and with such vehemence that, though he boasted a smattering of tlie language, he was unable to comprehend in the least what she was saying. It was evident, however, she was addressing him upon some subject of import. " There now," he interrupted finally, for- getting even his smattering of Indian and ad- dressing her in English, "just 'bide there a bit, lass, whilst I gets Dick Blake. He knows your lingo better 'n me. I'll send he up." And, hurrying down the trail, he called : " Dick, come np here. They's a Injun lass at th' tilt, firin' a lot o' lingo at me I can't fathom." " A Injun lass ! " exclaimed Dick. " What's she dob' there, nowt An' where 's Bob an' Shad? " " Yes, a Injun lass," said Ed impatiently, 116 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF "an' what she's doin' you'll have t' find out. It seems like she's achin' f tell somethin'. I'm not seein' Bob an' Shad." " They must be somethin' wrong, Ed. Come down an' help Bill get th' cargo ashore, an' I'll find out what 'tis; " and Dick hurried up the trail past Ed, to meet Manikawan, for she it was. She was still standing where Ed had left her, and Dick asked kindly in Indian: " What message does the maiden bring to her white brothers? " " Listen! " she commanded, in a clear, mu- sical voice. " I am Manikawan, the daughter of Sishetakushin, whose lodge is pitched on the shores of the Great Lake, to the north. Yesterday some men of the South visited the lodge of my father." " Mingens! " exclaimed Dick. " They told him," she continued, not heed- ing the interruption, " that five suns back they had found a lodge built where the big river broadens. The lodge was newly made. It was a white man's lodge, for it was built of trees. The men of the South waited in hiding at the end of the portage that was once used THE INDIiV MAIDEN' 117 by my people. It is ai nvc the pla e where evil spirits dwell." " How many of the men of the South were there? " asked Dick, again interrupting. " Six," she answered promptly. " While they waited two white men passed with a painted canoe and much provisions. Then, while they still waited, the white men returned with the canoe empty. " They tired their guns at the white men. Then the evil spirits that dwell where the river falls reached up for the canoe and dragged it down to the place of thunder. " I have come to tell you this, and to ask if White Brother of the Snow and his friend are here. All night and all day have I travelled, for I am afraid for White Brother of the Snow. He has lived in the lodge of Sishetaku- shin, my father. He is one of my people, and I am afraid for him. ' ' Her rapid speech, her dramatic pose and gestures, and her intensely earnest manner left no douht in Dick Blake's mind that she spoke the truth. Neither had he any doubt that she referred to Ungava Bob and Shad Trowbridge as the two white men, for no other 118 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF white men were in the region, or, he was sure, within several hundred miles of the place, at the time to which she referred. "No," said he, after a moment's pause, " White Brother of the Snow and his friend are not with us." " They are not here! " she wailed, lifting her arms in a gesture of despair. " Where is he? Tell me? It was not White Brother of the Snow sent to the torment of evil spirits f " "I'm afraid, M.mikawan, it was. There were no other white men here than White Brother of the Snow and his friend." Manikawan's hands dropped at her side, and for an instant she stood, a picture of min- gled horror and grief. But it was for only an instant. Then her face grew hard and vengeful, and in low, even tones she said: " These men of the South killed White Brother of the Snow. They are no longer of my people. They must die." " They must die," echoed Dick. " Cornel " she said laconically, reaching for her bow and slinging it on her back. " No, we will rest to-night, and to-morrow at dawn we will go. Rest to-night and be THE INDIAN MAIDEN Hi) strong for the chase to-morrow," Dick coun- selled, kindly, as she turned toward the port- age trail leading around the rapids. " I cannot rest," she answered. " I go now; " and like a shadow, and as silently, she melted into the darkening forest. Big Dick Blake's heart was full of venge- ance, as he strode down the trail to rejoin his companions. " What speech were th' Injun maid tryin' t' get rid of, now! " asked Ed Matheson, pausing in his work of unloading the canoe as Dick appeared. " Bob an' Shad's dead! " announced Dick bluntly. "Dead! Dead!" echoed Ed and Bill together. " Aye, dead. Drove over th' falls by Min- gen Injuns," continued Dick. " Five or six days ago, she's sayin'. They's six o' them Injuns down north o' here, huntin' deer, an' their camp's up th' river somewheres. I'm not knowin' rightly where, but we'll find un, an' we'll shoot them Injuns just like a passel o' wolves. If we don't, they'll sure be layin' for us an' shoot us." ISO THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF " Be you sure, now, th' lads is dead! " in- sisted Ed. " They's no doubtin' it. She tells th' story straight an' clean as a rifle shot; " and Dick went on to repeat in detail the story he had heard from Manikawan. " It looks bad, now, whatever," commented Ed. " But they's a chanct they gets ashore. I were caught onct in th' rapids above Musk- rat Falls, an' thinks it all up with me — right in th' middle o' th' rapids, too — an' " " Ed," broke in Dick, with vast impatience, " this be no time for yarnin'. You knows you never could be gettin' out o' them rapids an' not goin' over th' falls. An' these rapids is a wonderful sight worse." " Maybe they be," admitted Ed. " Th' poor lad, now, bein' killed in that way. Dick," he continued, raising his tall, awkward figure to its full height and placing his hand on Dick's shoulder. " me an' you's stood by one 'nother for a good many years, an' in all sorts o' hard places, an' if it's fight Injuns with you now, Dick, it's fight un, an' Bill's with us." " Aye," said Bill, " that I am." The boat was unloaded, and with heavy THE INDIAN MAIDEN 121 hearts the men prepared and ate their evening meal. Then while they smoked their pipes, light packs were put up and all was made snug for an early start the following morning. With the first blink of dawn the three deter- mined men, armed with their rifles, swung out into the forest, and rapidly but cautiously filed up the old portage trail in the direction Mani- kawan had taken. THE VOICES OF THE SPIRITS HEEDLESS of drizzling rain and snow, of driving wind and gathering dark- ness, Manikawan ran forward on the trail. Hatred was in her heart. Vengeance was crying to her. Every subtle, cunning in- stinct of her savage race was aroused in her bosom. She was determined that those who had sent her beloved White Brother of the Snow to de- struction in the deadly place of evil spirits must die. How she should compass their death she did not yet know; this was a detail for circumstance to decide, but it must be done. White Brother of the Snow was of her tribe; the law of her savage nature told her his death must be avenged. At the end of a mile or so she left the trail and turned sharply to the northward, winding her way deftly through moisture-laden under- brush which scarcely seemed to lessen her 123 THE VOICES OF THE SPIRITS 123 pace. Presently she broke out upon the shores of a lake and behind some willow bushes un- covered a small bireh-bark canoe, which she had carefully concealed there on her journey to t!ie river tilt. Turning the canoe over her head, with the middle thwart resting upon her shoulders, she took a southwesterly direction until the old portage trail was again encountered, and re- suming the trail she at length came upon the first lake of the chain through which the port- age route passed. The storm had ceased, and the stars were breaking through the clouds as Manikawan launched her canoe. It was a long, narrow lake, and paddling its length she had no diffi- culty in locating the place where the stream entered; and not far away a blazed tree, now plainly visible in the light of the rising moon, told her where the trail led out. Here, as she stepped ashore, she discov- ered the first of the series of tilts which Bob and Shad had built, and, immediately pushing aside the flimsy bark door, entered the tilt and struck a match. Its flare disclosed a half- burned candle on a shelf near the door, and 124 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF lighting it she held it aloft for a survey of the interior of the tilt. On the bunk at the side were two or three bags evidently containing clothing and other supplies, while on the bunk in the rear were some odds and ends of clothing, a folded tent, a coil of rope, doubtless used by the young adventurers as a tracking line, to assist them in hauling their canoe up the swift stream which connected the lake with the river below, and a rifle in a sealskin case. On beholding this last object, Manikawan gave a low exclamation of pleasure. Taking a chip from the floor she bent the candle over it, permitting some of the hot grease to flow upon it, and setting the candle firmly in the grease placed the improvised candlestick upon the tent stove. Then, reaching for the rifle, she drew it from the case and examined it critically. The magazine proved to be fully charged. Return- ing the rifle to its case, she now examined the other contents of the tilt, and presently came upon a quantity of cartridges in one of the bags. Several of these she appropriated, and drop- THE VOICES OF THE SPIRITS 1«6 ping them into a leathern pouch at her belt, restored the remaining contents of the tilt to the position in w'.iich ahe had found them. Then taking the rifle in its case, she blew out the candle, and passed out of the tilt, carefully- closing the door behind her. The moot was now sufficiently risen to light the trail, and the blazes which Ungava Bob had made were so clear that Manikawan's progress was rapid. Spectral shadows lay all about her, flit- ting here and there across her trail as she sped onward and onward through the dark forests that intervened between the lakes. In the distance she heard the voices of the evil spirits so dreaded 1 . her people, speaking in dull, monotonous undertones, like ceaseless, rolling thunder far away, threatening destruc- tion and death to all who fell within their reach. Even to her, whose home was the wil- derness, the situation was weird and un- canny. At length she passed another tilt near the end of a lake, but she did not pause to enter it. A little beyond the tilt the trail crossed a rise of ground, and upon reaching the sum- 126 THE GAUNT GRAY WOLF mit she bebfld in tlie distance a long, wide, silvery streak glistening in the moonlight. It was the river, and with a sen^^e of relief she lowered the canoe from her shoulders and con- cealed it carefully amongst the underbrush. She glanced at the stars and calculated the time until dawn. Tl,e region into which she had come was wholly unfamiliar to her, and she must have daylight to reconnoitre and locate the camp of her enemies. There '-s still ample tin.e for rest, for this was the ac -.'ron of lengthening nights and short- ening days, and Manikawan was in much need of rest and food. For nearly thirty-six hours she had been exerting herself to the utmost of her strength. At the river tilt she had made a fire in the stove and brewed herself some tea, but she had eaten nothing. Now, with the moment's relaxation, a feeling of great faigue came upon her, and for the first time she realised the length of her fast and the extjct of her weariness. Slowly she retraced her steps to the tilt which she bad passed on the lake shore a little way back. Entering it she struck a match and lighted a candle, as she had done at the THE VOICES OF THE SI'HHTS 1S7 other tilt, and with its assistance fount! the flour, porit, and tea, together with a frying jmn and itettle which Ungava Bob imd left tliere the day that he and Shad Trowbridge were at- taclved by the Indians. She went to the lul