MAGIC IN THE BERRIES.
The sun was just peeping above the horizon, but the air still remained chilly after the long night; to husky boys this amounted to little, and as soon as the camp was abandoned they would soon warm themselves up with paddle exercise, for it was no childish work battling against that swift current.
"Anyhow, it was a mighty comfortable camp," remarked Cuthbert, as they moved away, and his eyes rested fondly upon the scene of their last night's experience; so it ever is with those who live the life in the open, for the unconscious things appeal to their affections, and a staunch boat, a favorite paddle, a gun, knife, belt hatchet, or even the spot where they found comfort and built their shrine at which they temporarily worshiped, the campfire, arouses emotions in their hearts that cannot be fully appreciated by those not of the mystic guild.
Owen led the way in his bullboat.
He was more than usually silent after his talk over the trap and the poor little mink's foot up the creek, and Cuthbert wondered what it might be that affected him—could the coming of Stackpole have had anything to do with it—the idea was not impossible, for he had evidently known the gaunt timber-cruiser before, and if the story of the boy's sad past were known the gigantic woodsman might occupy a place in it.
Still, upon reflection, Cuthbert was of the opinion that there must be another reason for his thoughtfulness this morning.
He remembered what hints Owen had let fall concerning the old factor connected with the Hudson Bay post, and that there had been trouble between them; many things gave Cuthbert the opinion that the other had been fleeing from the region at that time they made his acquaintance so strangely, not in terror, but rather in anger, and he felt sure strange happenings had been taking place at the post on the day preceding the storm.
If so, then it was the fact that he must evidently soon face the stern factor again that disquieted Owen so; the way in which he tried hard to throw off his morose mood, and answer the sallies of his comrades in a spirit of frolic proved that he was fighting against his nature, and had laid out a course which he was determined to tread, no matter what pain or distress it brought in its train.
At any rate, it would soon appear what ailed the lad, and Cuthbert, greatly as he wished to know Owen's story, had too much delicacy to influence him in the telling; he had promised to open his heart to this new and sympathetic chum, and all would come when the spirit moved.
About an hour after leaving camp they suddenly came upon two bullboats that were descending the river swiftly, in each of which a trio of Cree Indians sat or knelt, wielding the paddles after the deft manner of those with whom the art has become second nature.
Cuthbert did not anticipate any trouble from these fellows, who were evidently in the employ of the fur company; but he was keen to notice how they took the presence of the young Canadian in the company of strangers, realizing that they must in all probability know him, and be acquainted with whatever of trouble had hovered around him of late.
Just as he expected, they seemed surprised at sight of Owen, and hasty words were passed among them; but they made no motion to interfere with the forward progress of the two boats, and answered the civil salutation of Cuthbert with a series of "how-hows" until the current had swept them past; but it might have been noticed that not once did their shrewd black eyes leave the figure of the young Canadian squatted in his old boat, and sweeping his spruce blade back and forth methodically, as he urged his craft against the stream.
"They know him all right, and are more than surprised to see him with a party of strangers, heading upstream. Now, I wonder if they were sent out to look for a fellow of his description? Gee, but this is a conundrum, all right," whispered Cuthbert to his fellow paddler, at which Eli grunted and nodded assent.
The young Canuck guide in the lead did not so much as turn his head after the boats containing the Indians had passed, but continued to dip his paddle in and out with the methodical rhythm so characteristic of the voyager who has spent his life amid these scenes.
No so Cuthbert, whose curiosity had been excited in connection with the untutored sons of the wilderness—ever and anon he twisted his head around so that he could secure a survey of the river below; and on such occasions Eli kept his eager eyes on the face of his comrade, knowing full well that should there be anything happening he would discover it reflected there.
About the fifth time Cuthbert turned thus he gave vent to a little exclamation, whether of satisfaction or annoyance it would have been difficult to say, and immediately whispered to Eli:
"They're coming all right, just as I expected, old fellow. That proves my idea correct, and that they had been sent out from the post, to find what had become of the youngster. He knows they are coming after us just as well as I do, but he's too proud to give them a single look. I like his grit, and between you and me, he's going to show us something before long. I'm in a fever to set eyes on that same old Tartar, Alex Gregory. Already I seem to dislike him immensely, and possibly I'll end by hating him good and hard. He's more than a little to blame for Owen's troubles, whatever they may be. Say nothing, Eli, but keep your eyes open."
"What if the copper-skinned critters attack us—I've got my gun handy, and I give you my word there'll be the very old dickens to pay if they start rough-housing it with us," answered the young logger; and it was not in a boastful spirit that he spoke, for Eli usually showed a modest disposition; only he, too, had taken a great fancy to the new chum who had been sent to them by such a freak of fortune, and Cuthbert's intimation that the other must be the victim of oppression rather riled him.
"Oh, I have no idea they will try any funny business; they know we are armed, and besides they have their orders from the head boss. You'll find that they only mean to tag after us, keeping on our heels until sure we mean to go to the post. These chaps possibly saw that smoke signal the other Cree we met downstream sent up, and they knew Owen was somewhere around. You noticed that they just stared at him all the time, and paid little attention to us. Well, let it go at that; we'll be apt to know a heap more than we do now when another day comes along. One thing I'll wager a lot on, and that is he's worth sticking to through thick and thin, eh, Eli?" ventured the explorer, earnestly.
"You bet!" was the laconic but expressive answer he received, and Cuthbert, who knew the logger so well, understood all that was implied.
Eli also glanced back just before they turned a bend, and as there was quite a little stretch of clear water back of them ere the stream twisted its way around a big bunch of birch trees that stood like sentinels on a projecting knoll, he was able to see the two bullboats come around the curve, and follow grimly in their wake, the occupants evidently making no effort at speed, for had they chosen they could have given our youngsters a warm proposition in the way of a race, their muscles being inured to the monotonous labor of the paddle.
Cuthbert began asking questions of Owen, who allowed the other boat to gain a position alongside, so that conversation might be the more easily carried on. Thus he learned that, proceeding leisurely they would readily make the Hudson Bay post ere nightfall; had there been any reason for haste this time might have been shortened by several hours; but it suited all of them to arrive around the sunset hour.
Having an abundance of time they went ashore at high noon, built a fire and had quite a healthy little lunch, washing it down with a pot of coffee, the delightful aroma of which must have reached the nostrils of the Cree paddlers who had drawn their boats ashore just below, for the wind lay in that quarter.
Cuthbert expected to hear from those who were playing this comical game of tag, and, indeed, he had purposely caused the coffee to boil madly in order that the appetizing scent might be wafted with the breeze; consequently when Eli declared one of the Indians was advancing toward the fire, the explorer grinned as though he might be patting himself on the back over having accomplished a rather pretty piece of strategy.
The fellow came directly up to where they sat finishing their meal.
Cuthbert did not altogether like his looks, but then he realized that he was hardly capable of judging a good Indian from a bad one, since he had only a limited experience with the natives—what appeared to be a scowling phiz to him might seem only the natural expression to be found upon the dusky faces of these Saskatchewan dwellers of the woods, when viewed by Owen.
As he drew near the Indian made certain mysterious motions with his hands, which Cuthbert understood must be the peace signs, and he began to imitate the other, not wishing to be outdone in politeness.
"How," said the copper-colored intruder, with a rising inflection.
"How," repeated Cuthbert, in just the same tone of voice.
"You camp boss?" pursued Mr. Lo, keenly eyeing the young fellow, as though he might be dubious concerning this fact.
"Well, perhaps you might call me that, seeing this is my outfit; but just say that I'm an Easy Boss, and let it go at that. Now, what can I do for you?" remarked the explorer, who was as yet unknown to fame, but who had aspirations.
"Huh, you got um coffee—we smell um good—can stand no more—s'pose you give Injun drink, him be glad, much so—no have coffee many moons—set um up in other alley—how?" was what followed, much to the amusement of both Cuthbert and Eli, for evidently the fellow had seen a bowling alley in Winnipeg, or some other city.
"Well, I like your nerve, my copper-colored friend, which I see you carry with you all the time; but after all I don't know that I can blame you asking, for the smell of good coffee is enough to set any chap wild. What is your name, may I humbly inquire?" ventured Cuthbert, keeping a very straight face, though he could hear Eli chuckling, and wanted to laugh outright himself; for it was evident that while music is said to have "power to soothe the savage beast," the aroma of the subtle coffee bean in the process of cooking seemed capable of subjugating the savage man himself, and bringing him to "eat humble pie," as Eli put it.
"Name all same Springing Elk—son of Chief Wolf-killer, him same head of Crees on big river Saskatch. You say we have coffee—ugh, much good, and we not forget," and not waiting to receive additional assurance he raised his hand to his mouth and gave vent to a series of sharp barks or yelps that must have been an eagerly awaited signal conveying good news to his mates, for immediately the whole bunch started for the campfire of the three boys.
Cuthbert, in an aside, asked Owen if they need fear any danger from the Crees; but the young Canuck shook his head in the negative, answering back:
"Not at all. The only failing they have is a weakness for appropriating anything that strikes their fancy, when they think no one is looking, and I think we can avoid that by being on guard all the time until we embark again. They are crazy about coffee, and would go to great trouble to get a drink of the stuff."
Nevertheless, Eli, though hearing what was said, did not feel disposed to take any great stock in the pacific intentions of the heathen; he had read stories of their treacherous nature, and heard men speaking so derisively about the "only good Indian being a dead Indian," that he felt it his bounden duty to maintain a watchful eye upon the sextette while they were present, all the while keeping his gun in his clasp, ready to meet any emergency that might arise.
But then Eli had led a hard life, and there was considerable excuse for his suspicious nature—we are often creatures of circumstances and environment, and his school had been the rough logging camps, where the worst that is in men usually crops out.
Cuthbert busied himself in making a new pot of coffee, an operation which the group of bucks watched with glistening eyes; and when a little later the steam began to pour out from the nozzle of the pot, and the aroma struck their olfactory nerves, really several of them could not stand it, but had to walk away, those more masterful standing on one foot and snuffing the air, while their expressions in anticipation would have done credit to so many children.
They each had two big tin cups of the decoction, steaming hot, and undefiled by either sugar or condensed milk, showing that they possessed the proper taste for the beverage of the gods, according to the ideas of those who grow the royal berry, and know how it should be drunk.
Cuthbert had accommodated the untutored sons of the forest partly because he had a warm heart, and again with the half-formed idea that possibly his little party might benefit from the act in the future—frequently the old saying of "bread cast upon the waters returning after some days" comes true.
Still, there was a limit to his indulgence; and he certainly did not intend to allow this thirsty crowd of skin-hunters to become regulation camp-followers; his supply of coffee would not long stand the strain, even if his patience did.
So as soon as the last cups were drained of every drop of the delicious fluid the boys captured the same, deposited them in the receptacle where they belonged, thrust this into the cedar canoe, and then Cuthbert, as master of ceremonies, cried out:
"Yo-ho, all aboard!"
In another minute the canoes of the expedition began to cleave the waters, headed upstream.
The Indians also tumbled into their boats, nor were they longer satisfied to hang back one or more hundred yards as formerly—that elixir had quite captured their hearts, and they scrambled to keep in close proximity to the magical "floating coffin," as they denominated the cedar canoe, as if they could scent future feasts along the line of that which they had just enjoyed.
Cuthbert laughed over the situation more than a few times, and declared that he need fear no evil from the copper-faced denizens of the timber country so long as a shot remained in their locker—a grain of Java in their caddy.
But the Indians after a while struck a faster gait and vanished around a bend above, nor did they see them again for several days, when they arrived at the trading post.
They paddled leisurely, with Owen leading the way as before, for being familiar with the region he would know how to time matters so that they should reach the vicinity of the post.
As the afternoon waned Cuthbert could see that the other was struggling with some strong emotion, and he understood that it must be connected with the return trip he was making to the post, which he had evidently abandoned for good at the time of his hasty run down the river.
He fancied that Owen might take occasion to give them some inkling as to how matters stood with him here, for he had promised to reveal the secret of his lonely life at the first favorable opportunity; but somehow he did not appear to be in the humor just then, being wrapped up in his own gloomy reflections.
'Well, it could not long be delayed now, and Cuthbert, being built along the lines of a patient and philosophical lad, felt that he could wait.