“Then we can start for the mainland. We must go back. The canoes are out of sight.”
“No, no, that would be folly. If they go straight out of this bay all will be well, but we know not where they go or how far or where they may lie in wait. No, no, Hugh, we have frightened them away from this spot, but we dare not leave it ourselves until darkness comes.”
XX
HUGH CLIMBS THE RIDGE
The small island was scarcely a half mile in circumference, and it did not take Hugh and Blaise long to explore it. Its only inhabitants appeared to be squirrels, hares and a few birds. Breakfast had been light, and by mid-afternoon the boys were very hungry. The lighting of a fire involved some risk, but they could not eat raw fish. On a bit of open rock at the extreme upper or southwest end of the island, they made a tiny blaze, taking care to keep the flame clear and almost smokeless, and broiled the fish over the coals. The meal put both in better spirits and helped them to await with more patience the coming of night.
The evening proved disappointing. The sun set behind black clouds that came up from the west. The water was calm, the air still and oppressive, and above the ridges lightning flashed. The prospect of making a start across the open lake was not good. Yet in one way the threatening weather served the lads well. The night was intensely dark. The lightning was too far away to illuminate land or water, and this black darkness furnished good cover. When they pushed off from the little island, they could see scarcely a boat’s length ahead.
Close to the shores of the islands and the long point, they paddled, avoiding wide spaces, which were, even on this dark night, considerably lighter than the land-shadowed water. As he sat in the stern trying to dip and raise his paddle as noiselessly as his half-brother in the bow, Hugh felt that the very bay had somehow changed its character. That morning the place had seemed peaceful and beautiful, but to-night it had turned sinister and threatening. The low hanging, starless sky, the dark, wooded islands, the towering ridge, its topmost line of tree spires a black, jagged line against the pale flashes of lightning, the still, lifeless water, the intense silence broken only by the far-away rumble of thunder and the occasional high-pitched, squeaking cry of some night bird, all seemed instinct with menace. The boy felt that at any moment a swift canoe, with the gigantic figure of Ohrante towering in the bow, might dart out of some black shadow. Frankly Hugh was frightened, and he knew it. But the knowledge only made him set his teeth hard, gaze keenly and intently into the darkness about him and ply his paddle with the utmost care. What his half-brother’s feelings were he could not guess. He only knew that Blaise was paddling steadily and silently.
In the thick darkness, the older boy was not quite sure of the way back to the hidden pond, but Blaise showed no doubt or hesitation. He found the channel between the point and the chain of islands, and warned Hugh just when to turn through the gap into the inner channel. When it came to feeling the way past the round islet and through the narrow passage, Hugh ceased paddling and trusted entirely to Blaise. The latter strained his eyes in the effort to see into the darkness, but so black was it on every hand that even he had to depend more on feeling with his paddle blade than on his sense of sight. It was partly luck that he succeeded in taking the boat through without worse accident than grating a rock. He did not attempt to cross the little pond, but ran the bateau up on the pebbles just beyond the entrance.
Hugh drew a long sigh of relief. They were back safe in the hidden pond near the cache of furs. The sense of menace that had oppressed him was suddenly lifted, and he felt an overpowering physical and mental weariness. Blaise must have had some similar feeling, for he had not a word to say as they climbed out of the bateau and pulled it farther up. In silence he lay down beside Hugh in the bottom of the boat. In spite of the rumbling of the thunder, and the flashing of the lightning, the two boys fell asleep immediately.
The storm passed around and no rain fell, but the sleepers were awakened towards dawn by a sharp change in the weather. The air had turned cold, wind rustled the trees, broken clouds were scudding across the sky uncovering clear patches. The morning dawned bright. The little pond was still, but it was impossible to tell what the weather might be outside. The only way to find out was to go see. Their adventure of the day before had made the boys more than ever anxious to get away from Isle Royale at the first possible moment. Yet the thought that Ohrante might be lurking somewhere near made them cautious. They hesitated to leave their hiding place until they were sure they could strike out across the lake. To load the furs and start out, only to be obliged to turn back, seemed a double risk.
“If the lake is rough it is likely that Ohrante and his band have not gone far,” Blaise remarked. “They may be in this very bay.”