CHAPTER XXI.—A CAMPFIRE HIGH ON THE HILLS.
There was quite a celebration in the cabin when, at last, just as the sun came into view over the mountains, Gran opened his heavy eyes and looked about. All three boys were at his side instantly, and Captain Joe, who seemed to claim precedence by right of discovery, put his great paws up on the bunk and addressed soft phrases in dog talk to the patient.
“For my sake don’t tell him that he mustn’t talk, now!” Alex broke out. “Of all the chestnuts of fiction that is the worst! Let him get his troubles off his chest! Hello, Gran, old top! How are you?” he added, wrinkling his freckled nose at the boy on the bunk. “Brace up!”
“And don’t you dare to look wildly around and say, ‘Where am I?’” Case threatened, taking up the mood of the first speaker. “That is another of the terms kept standing in all printing offices. You’re looking fine this morning, old man!” he continued, determined to cheer the boy up to the point of a smile if that were possible.
“What kind of a foolish house do you think we keep here, Gran?” asked Clay. “These lads are doing a lot of talking, but neither one has made a move to get you something to eat. What will you have? Fish, partridge, bear or baked beans? Apple pie, dried apple pie, red apple pie, or pie-pie! Give a name to it, and you’ll be feeding like a king in no time at all!”
Gran laughed at the waiter-like tone and manner, and tried to sit up, but was glad to lie down again.
“I know where I am,” he said, “but I don’t know how I came here. I guess the Rambler is going somewhere, but I don’t know where.”
“You don’t know where you’re going, but you’re on your way!” chanted Alex. “Well,” he continued, “you’re going down the Columbia river, according to schedule, and that is enough to know. That’s all any of us know. We came around by Canoe river, and you came across the mountains, and we beat you to it.”
“Yes, I came across the mountains,” Gran said, weakly, “and got a tumble, and had a fright of a time getting down to the river valley. I saw your lights and that’s about all.”
Not a word about why he had left the Rambler, or where he had put in his time since then, or how the rowboat had been obtained and, later, wrecked! Not a word about the man in whose company he had last been seen! Not a word about the missing films! Not a word calculated to clear up any part of the mystery!
“You did a good job setting that leg,” Clay said, to break the awkward silence. “You must have had a bad time doing it, too.”
“I did,” Gran confessed. “I had a wretched time. I tied my foot to a tree, after I had the splints bound lightly on, and dropped down a bank. I heard the bones snap back into place, and knew that the splints were holding them there, and went to sleep!
“It was a long time before I sensed any pain again. Then I got back to a level spot and tightened the splints. Are they still on?”
“Still on, and right as a book!” exclaimed Alex. “You’re a brick!”
“That was after you got to the valley?” asked Clay. “How far had you walked with that broken leg before you found splints and mended it?”
“Oh, I don’t know!” was the reply. “It seemed that I was out days and days, and a bear came and sat by me, and Captain Joe drove him off, and then I woke up in the cabin of the good old Rambler!”
The boys exchanged significant glances. Was it true that the dog had driven off a grizzly, or was the boy telling what he saw after his brain had become affected by suffering? They asked no questions, for the boy’s eyes were closing, and they knew that he needed rest more than they needed information. In a minute the lad was resting easily.
“What do you make of it?” asked Alex as the three boys stood out on the bank, Captain Joe capering clumsily about them.
“What do I make of what?” demanded Case. “Talk United States.”
“I guess you are sparring for time!” laughed Alex. “So you don’t know what to make of it? You haven’t a thought in your head?”
“That is the truth of it,” Case returned. “I don’t know why Gran doesn’t say something about his desertion of us. I have given up trying to think that out, so we’ll build up more fire, get a bed of coals, and broil bear steak for breakfast. I’m getting hungry, and I guess Gran will need a little sustenance when he wakes up. Say, wasn’t it a blessing that we came along just as we did? Otherwise, he would have died. Never could have made his way out with that broken leg!”
While Clay and Case broiled bear steak and made coffee Alex whistled to Captain Joe and started away. Taking the course pursued the previous evening, he soon came to the rough shelter which the injured boy had prepared. There he sat down and held a threatening finger up to the nose of the white bulldog.
“Tell me, Captain Joe,” he said, gravely, “did you find a bear here last night, and did you drive him away? Tell me, quick, old fellow.”
The dog turned away with a sniff and circled around the hut. Alex followed, soon coming upon claw tracks in the earth. He turned to Joe.
“I believe you did!” he cried. “Now, if you please, will you go show me where that bear is? I want a short conversation with him. What?” Captain Joe started off in the direction of the high ridges to the east, and finally paused at the opening to a deep cavern in a towering cliff. Alex looked in and sniffed inquiringly, after which he backed out and turned toward the campfire, Joe marching along at his side.
“You’re a wonder, dog!” the boy exclaimed. “You’re a wonder, and no mistake about it! I’ll have you put in a book when we get back to Chi.” Captain did not seem to take kindly to this proposition, for he hastened back to the fire and lay down with his nose cuddled between two rather dirty paws. Alex came in in a moment and told what he had seen.
“I guess the dog did see a grizzly,” Clay decided, “and drove him off. It is a wonder he didn’t get his ears boxed!”
“Our lights probably had something to do with the retreat of the big brute,” Case suggested. “I wish we had found him there!”
Gran ate bear steak and drank coffee when he awoke, and the boys loafed about the Rambler and made merry. During the day the injured boy talked of almost everything except the things in which his chums were interested.
He told of some of his experiences in crossing the mountains to the headwaters of Gold creek, but did not say how he came to be in that wild region all alone, nor why he had written the note saved from the river. Naturally the boys were consumed with curiosity, but they asked no questions, leaving the solution of the problems to time and to future moods of their patient. Gran’s leg mended fast, and he was soon as full of fun as the others. Still no hint of the reason for his disappearance!
All the boys enjoyed the leisurely progress down the river which followed. They were often obliged to work their way around falls and long, foaming rapids, but they did the work cheerfully, and took all the more comfort in smooth stretches of water when they came to them. Below Gold creek the valley widens to the west, and a high plateau presents a vast area of growing timber. Only a short range of mountains divides this fertile stretch of country from the high plains drained by the Fraser river.
The boys tied up one night at Seymour creek which flows into the Columbia from the west, about thirty miles below Gold creek, and made a camp on shore.
“This,” Clay, said in the morning, “is one of the finest timber sections in the world, and I’m not going to run through it. Some day there will be great farms here, with wheat growing luxuriantly during the short season. Now there is plenty of game, and I’m going to get some of it.”
“I think I’ll take a trip to Sir Donald mountain,” Alex said, pointing across the big river, where the white cap of the peak shone in the sunlight. “I want to see how the country looks from the roof.”
“You should have been with me on my excursion over the mountains!” Gran remarked. “You’ll find it cold up there, and you’ll find slippery rocks and precipices which reach down into the bowels of the earth!”
“I want to see things!” Alex exclaimed. “If I had been looking for a peaceful life, I would have rented a boat in Chicago and sat out in the South Branch with it! Me for the high spots!”
“I think I’ll go along with him,” Case observed. “I want to see the high spots, too, and, besides, I may be able to keep this rash youth from getting treed by a grizzly again! He’s always getting into trouble!”
Clay finally agreed to remain with Gran during the day, and the two adventurous boys were landed on the east side of the Columbia, not far from the mouth of Six Mile creek, close to the foothills which rise to the greater elevation of Sir Donald mountain. It was early on a splendid morning in early spring, and the boys felt the influence of the time moving the blood swiftly in their veins. Youth was in their every movement and the spirit of adventure sung in their ears!
It was a long walk to the place where the mountain asserted itself above the hills, and, a little over half way there, the lads stopped, and sat down on a rock to eat the sandwiches of bread and bear meat which they had brought with them. Around them was a rugged country, several hundred feet above sea level.
Although the bulk of the mountain was still some distance to the east, there were canyons and lifting crags all about them. Just below, the thin thread of Six Mile creek glistened in the light of the morning. The springs which give rise to this stream are far up in the mountains, and melting snow has much to do with the quantity of its waters.
“Straight east of where we are,” Case said, as they ate their dinners, “are the rapids we had such a time passing.”
“No,” Alex answered, looking at a map, “the rapids are some miles to the north. Straight east of this point is Beaver, where the Canadian Pacific turns south toward Rogers pass and Glacier House.”
“Guess you are right,” Case admitted, looking over Alex’s shoulder. “And just a little way to the south is Donald, where we took to the river. Just think of what a country this is! We have traveled something like two or three hundred miles, as the river runs, and yet we are not more than fifty miles from where we launched the Rambler! What a country this would be for outlaws to hide in! Train robbers, for instance!”
“For all we know,” Alex replied, “the men who held up the Canadian Pacific train, the men who have been following us, so far as we can judge, may be hiding in here! To tell you the truth, old chap, that is one reason why I wanted to come here. Last night, while looking over this way, I saw the smoke of a campfire right about here. It was a big fire, for it lighted up quite a space, and I could see people moving about.”
“Shadows!” Case answered, scornfully. “You never could see people in the night at this distance from our camp.”
“Remember,” Alex insisted, “that they were high above us, and that the fire shone on a face of rock back of them. Remember, also, that the smoke went straight up and gave me a good view of a blazing fire.”
“Oh, well,” Case decided, critically, “you might have seen figures moving about. You had your glass, of course?”
“Certainly. Well, there were people camping over here, and I thought I’d like to see what kind of people they were. I said nothing to Clay about my motive in coming here, because he thinks I’ll be getting into trouble enough with peaks and canyons, without hunting up mysterious camping parties in the Rocky mountain district.”
“I’m glad you didn’t mention it to him,” Case mused. “He would have been anxious about us. Just as if we aren’t big enough to take care of ourselves. Have you seen the place where the fire was yet?”
“Yes,” replied the boy, “it is across this little valley, up against the face of that rock. See, the rock is smudged!”
“Yes,” Case exclaimed, swiftly moving under cover, “and there are smudgy looking men coming after us with guns in their hands! Duck, partner!”