Hugh pushed off the bateau, waved his hand to the sober-faced Blaise, and paddled through the narrow waterway and out of sight. After his brother had gone, Blaise picked his way along the shore of the pond and into the woods to the cache. He found no signs of disturbance around the old birch, and, climbing up, he looked down into the hollow. The rotten wood and dead leaves he and Hugh had strewn over the bark cover seemed undisturbed. Satisfied that the furs were safe, Blaise climbed down again. He was reminded though that Hugh still had the packet. He wished he had asked his elder brother to leave it behind.

The half-breed boy waited with the patience inherited from his Indian mother. But when the sun reached its highest point he began to wonder. Surely it could not take Hugh so long to cross to the point, climb to the top and return. From experience of untracked woods and rough ridges, Blaise knew the trip was probably a harder one than Hugh had imagined, but the latter was not inexperienced in rough going. Unless he had encountered extraordinary difficulties, had been obliged to go far around, or had become lost, he should have been back long before. The possibility that Hugh had become lost, Blaise dismissed from his mind at once. With the ridge ahead and the water behind him, only the very stupidest of men could have lost himself in daylight. That he had come to some crack or chasm he could not cross or some cliff he could not scale, and had been compelled to go far out of his way, was possible. Blaise had come to know Hugh’s stubborn nature. If he had started to go to the top of the ridge, there he would go, if it was in the power of possibility.

There seemed to be nothing Blaise could do but wait. Even if he had thought it wise to follow his elder brother, he had no boat. Sunset came and still no Hugh. The lad felt he could delay action no longer.

The pond was in the interior of a small island. Blaise made up his mind to cross to the shore bordering on the channel that separated the island from the long point. Through the woods he took as direct a route as he could. The growth was thick, but there was still plenty of light. In a very few minutes he saw the gleam of water among the trees ahead. He slipped through cautiously, not to expose himself until he had taken observations. His body concealed by a thick alder bush, he looked across the strip of water, studying the opposite shore line.

The shore was in shadow now and the trees grew to the water. Letting his eyes travel along foot by foot, he caught sight of the thing he sought, a bit of weather-stained wood, not the trunk or branch of a dead tree, projecting a little way from the shadow of a cedar. That was the end of the bateau. Hugh had crossed the channel, had left his boat and gone into the woods.

Slipping between the bushes, Blaise glanced along his own side of the channel, then made his way quickly to the spot where a birch tree had toppled from its insecure hold into the water. With his sharp hatchet, the boy quickly severed the roots that were mooring the fallen tree to the shore. Then, with some difficulty, he succeeded in shoving the birch farther out into the channel and climbing on the trunk. His weight, as he sat astride the tree trunk between the branches, pulled it down a little, but the upper part of his body was well above water. The channel was deep, with some current, which caught the tree and floated it away from shore. Like most woods Indians and white voyageurs, Blaise was not skilled in swimming, but the water was calm and, as long as he clung to his strange craft, he was in no danger of drowning. Leaning forward, he cut off a branch to use as a paddle and with it was able to make slow headway across. He could not guide himself very well, and the current bore him down. He succeeded with his branch paddle in keeping the tree from turning around, however. It went ashore, the boughs catching in a bush that grew on the water’s edge, some distance below the spot where the bateau was drawn up in the shelter of the leaning cedar.

XXI
THE GRINNING INDIAN

When Hugh passed out of the narrow channel into the wider one, he ran his eyes searchingly along the opposite shore, alert for any signs of human beings. Then he looked to the right and left, up and down the channel and the shores of the small islands. He saw nothing to cause him apprehension. Putting more strength into his paddle strokes, he crossed as quickly as he could, and ran the bateau in beside a leaning cedar tree with branches that swept the water. The bow touched the shore, and Hugh climbed out and made the boat fast. He felt sure it would be concealed from down channel by the thick foliage of the cedar. From up channel the bateau was not so well hidden, but this place seemed to be the only spot that offered any concealment whatever, so he was forced to be content. He would not be gone long anyway, and he was well satisfied that Ohrante and his band would not return soon to the Bay of Manitos.

This was by no means the first time Hugh had been through untracked woods and over rough ground, yet he found the trip to the ridge top longer and more difficult than he had expected. The growth, principally of evergreens, was dense and often troublesome to push through. The bedrock, a few feet from shore, was covered deeply with soft leaf mould and decayed wood and litter, forming a treacherous footing. Sometimes he found it firm beneath his feet, again he would sink half-way to his knees. Wherever a tree had fallen, lightening the dense shade, tangles of ground yew had sprung up. The rise on this side of the point was gradual compared with the abrupt cliffs of the northwest side, but the slope proved to be, not an unbroken grade, but an irregular succession of low ridges with shallow gullies between. By the general upward trend, occasional glimpses of the water behind him, and the angle at which the sunlight came through the trees, Hugh kept his main direction, going in as straight a line as he could. Under ordinary circumstances he would have used his hatchet to blaze his way, so that he might be sure of returning by the same route, but he hesitated to leave so plain a trail. It was not likely that Ohrante would come across the track, but Hugh was taking no chances. If the giant Iroquois should come down the channel and find the bateau, a blazed trail into the woods would make pursuit altogether too easy. Though he was in too great a hurry to take any particular care to avoid leaving footprints, Hugh did not mark his trail intentionally and even refrained from cutting his way through the thick places. The whole distance from the shore to the summit of the highest ridge probably did not exceed a mile, and did not actually take as long as it seemed in the climbing.

He hoped that he might come out in a bare spot where he could see across the water, but he was disappointed. The ridge was almost flat topped and trees cut off his view in every direction. Going on across the summit, however, he pushed his way among the growth, to find himself standing on the very rim of an almost vertical descent. He looked directly down upon the tops of the sturdy trees and shrubs that clung to the rock by thrusting their roots far into holes and crannies. Beyond stretched the lake, rich blue under a clear sky. A little to his left, a projecting block of rock a few feet below offered a chance for a better view. He let himself down on the rock and took an observation. The lake was not too rough to venture out upon, when the need of crossing was so great. He noted with satisfaction that the breeze was only moderate. The direction, a little east of north, was not unfavorable for reaching the mainland, though steering a straight course for the Kaministikwia would be impossible.