And so Indian Jake pitched his camp, made himself comfortable, and began the building of deadfalls, in anticipation of the time when the bears would come forth from their dens.
Here in the seclusion of the forest the half-breed was safe enough from discovery. None would pass this way save the Indians who were his friends, and Uncle Ben Rudder, upon whom he looked as an uncompromising enemy. But not until after the break-up in June would Uncle Ben pass down the river and into Grand Lake in his boat. Indian Jake had the advantage of time. He would break camp and be away before June. In any case there was no probability that Uncle Ben would go ashore here, and even though he did, Indian Jake’s tent was sufficiently hidden to escape detection. He took good care that this should be the case, and he also took good care to leave no trace along the river bank that would give hint of his presence, or arouse suspicion that he was in the vicinity.
XXII
THE BURNING TILT
David and Andy were made as comfortable as ever they could be in a wigwam. Sa-peesh and his family, but particularly A-mish-ku and Ni-pit-se, were well pleased to have them there. They had seen none save the members of their own family since the previous autumn, and A-mish-ku, after the manner of boys the world over, craved the companionship of other boys, and he and Ni-pit-se were glad to see new faces and hear new voices.
Ni-pit-se was shy at first, but her timidity passed away quickly enough. And she took it upon herself to minister to David’s and Andy’s needs, and she found a vast deal of pleasure in nursing them. Their coming, and these new duties, made a welcome break in the monotony of the days, for even an Indian maiden wearies sometimes of the changeless solitary routine of her wilderness life.
And so, despite the pain and discomfort of their temporary affliction, David and Andy were well content, and recovered so rapidly from their attack of snowblindness that they might have returned to their trail at the end of a week but for the fact that Andy’s feet were frostbitten, and still too sore to walk so far. And so, of necessity, they tarried another week in the wigwam of Sa-peesh, much to the satisfaction of the A-mish-ku and Ni-pit-se.
During this fortnight the days were rapidly lengthening and the sun was growing stronger, though as yet there was no softening of the snow even at midday and the nights and mornings were crisp and frosty enough. With every day, as the sun grew brighter, the glare on the snow increased until the world was a dazzling expanse of scintillating, blinding light. No longer was it safe to go abroad, even for an hour, with naked eyes, save in dull and cloudy weather.
David and Andy had learned their lesson. They had no intention of becoming snowblind again if it could be avoided. And so, while they waited for Andy’s feet to heal, they fashioned, each for himself, a pair of goggles, after the manner of those worn by Sa-peesh and his family.