The Island of Yellow Sands: An Adventure and Mystery Story for Boys

by Ethel C. Brill

After supper the three held a serious council. The middle of September had come, and the woods were taking on an autumnal appearance. The birch, aspen and mountain ash leaves were turning and beginning to fall, the blueberries and raspberries and most of the thimbleberries were gone, flocks of migrating birds were to be seen nearly every day on their way south, and the squirrels and chipmunks were busy laying up stores of cones and alder seeds. When the gold-seekers had left the Sault, they had fully expected to be on their way back, their canoe loaded with golden sand, before this. If they were to find the island they must do it soon, for autumn changes to winter rapidly on Lake Superior, the return journey would be a long one, and bad weather might cause much delay. But where should they go? In what direction should they search? How could they tell in what quarter the Island of Yellow Sands lay?

Nangotook showed plainly that his first concern was to return to the shore of the lake. Soon would come storms and cold, he said, and if bad weather found them on some small island in the middle of the lake they would starve. The Island of Yellow Sands might be sought in the spring when there would be more time to look for it. At the present time the manitos were not favorable to the quest. The lads had offended the spirits of the lake and islands, especially Nanabozho himself,—and the Indian looked sternly at Ronald. There was no foretelling what disaster might come to them if they persisted in the search. Another year the spirits might be more friendly, but now they had sent warnings. First there had appeared the cape of Nanabozho and directly afterwards the northern lights flaming in the sky.

“But,” objected Jean, “you said before, several times, that the northern lights were a good omen. Why do you now call them a warning?”

“There was no red in the lights we saw first,” replied Nangotook. “The last time they were red with anger, the color of blood and of the fire that destroys the lodge and turns the green forest to black. So will the manito destroy us if we heed not his warnings.”

“Take shame to yourself as a poor Christian, Etienne,” cried Jean indignantly. “Whatever the power of the Indian spirits, and I do not deny that they have power over heathens, that of the good God is greater. If we trust in Him and do no evil, we need not fear. We have started on this quest, and it would be disgrace to us to turn back so soon. You were as eager as we at first. Surely you will not desert us now?”

“My little brother knows that I will never desert him,” said the Ojibwa proudly. “Where he goes I will go also. I have given my counsel. I have warned him. Now I will keep silence.” After that he refused to take any part in the discussion.

Jean and Ronald were agreed on one point. They were determined to continue their search for the golden sands. Both were almost certain that the place where they then were was not the one they were seeking. Ronald believed that they were farther west than they ought to be, on one of the great islands, Royale, which the Indian called Minong, or the mythical Philippeau, that the old explorers placed on their maps. He was in favor of striking out to the east, but Jean admitted that he dreaded paddling straight out into the lake, without any idea of their location or where they were going. From the rocky island where they had landed in the fog, they had not been able, when the weather cleared, to make out any land to the east except some small islands lying near by and of the same character as the one where they were. They must explore those islands to make sure that no golden beaches were to be found there. If they found nothing, Jean wished, instead of striking out into the lake, to travel along the shore to the northeast, in the hope of obtaining some idea of their real situation and some clue to the direction they should take. Ronald admitted the reasonableness of Jean’s plan, but was reluctant to give up his own. They failed to come to a definite decision that night.

It was the wind that settled the dispute. The morning was calm, but before the explorers had skirted the rock shores of all the islands that defined the southeastern limits of the bay, the wind was blowing strong and cold from the north. They found crossing the bay to the shelter of the shore difficult and dangerous enough. Paddling in such a strong side wind out into the open lake was out of the question. If they went along shore, however, they would be well protected by high land.

That morning they found two hares caught in the snares. A lynx had robbed a third snare. Hares seemed plentiful in that vicinity, for several had come out into the open in plain sight the night before. The least move towards them startled them back into the thicket, and the campers did not wish to waste any ammunition as long as they could use snares. For the boy or man who is not compelled to find his food or his living in the wilderness, snaring and trapping are cruel and wholly unnecessary. They are certainly not sport, and there is no excuse for indulging in them. But Jean and Ronald, brought up in a more brutal age, were accustomed to consider the trapping of animals as a legitimate and natural means of livelihood. To set traps was to them the easiest and best way to obtain food and furs. They were not cruel by nature, but they had probably never considered for one moment the painful sufferings of a hare hanging by its neck in a noose. Indeed in their time, animals were commonly supposed to be so far below man in every way as to have scarcely any feelings at all.

It was not until afternoon that the adventurers started to paddle along shore to the northeast. For about two miles they ran between outlying, wooded islands and the main shore, then along an unprotected coast of gently sloping dark rock, with many cracks and crevices, but almost no projecting points of any considerable length. Above the water line, dark green moss and lichens grew in patches, farther up were juniper and creeping plants, and beyond them bushes and forest. There were no sands, and no large bays, coves or harbors. The day was brilliantly bright and clear, but across the water to the east no sign of land was visible, even to the Indian’s keen eyes.