It was one of those questions, in fact, which would have taken a more worldly-wise fellow than Joe to answer; indeed, had he but known the true reason of this unlooked-for and undeserved attack, he would have been astounded. For the band then shrieking and shouting behind them, and at that moment dashing downhill on their snowshoes, had set out to search for our hero and his friends. They had hunted high and low for the trace of two prospectors, for the snowshoe marks left by Joe and Hank, and had fallen upon those marks prior to their joining hands with Beaver Jack. But the accession of one to the number of the little party made not the smallest difference. Why should it? There were nine in this gang, and only three in the other.
But Joe had other things to do than to worry his head as to reasons. After all, what did it matter who this enemy was? What difference could knowing make to our hero and his friends? For enemies are much the same all the world through. Once it is demonstrated that they aim at the slaying of those they follow, all come under the same heading. All are dangerous, and it behoves those who have to defend their lives to take the utmost precautions.
Beaver Jack therefore led the flight at a speed which suited Joe, who did not find it very hard to keep up, seeing that the way lay downhill. As for the Redskin, he might have been out for a promenade only; his shoes slid over the now hard-frozen surface with a queer little rustling sound, seeming to carry the user's legs rather than to require effort on his part. His head was sunk low down upon his breast, his hooked nose and upturned chin approximated. But nothing escaped this man of the woods, this child of nature, whose hearing and instincts were as developed as those of the wildest animal.
Hank made a pretty, if a rugged picture. The little man seemed almost to have his ears cocked backwards. In any case, they lay flat against his head, the coon-skin cap just dropping on to them. His head was erect, and even as he slid along over the snow there was little doubt that not a sound escaped him.
"Them critters ha' jest come to the spot whar we dropped in on their trace," he growled. "You kin tell as they're finely bothered. Seems to me they'll send a party forward and one along this way, and in a bit we shall hear a hullabaloo that'll be loud enough to scare the moose this side of the big lakes. You ain't tired, Joe?"
"Not I!" came the hearty answer. "Could go on for a while longer."
"Then you'll have need. There won't be so much between us by the time we reach camp; then it'll be a case fer thinkin'."
As if the question of their further movements bothered him, as indeed it did, his fingers slid up beneath his cap, a habit the little fellow had, and played with a loose lock of his thick hair; for Hank's hair was thick. Barbers do not live round the corner in the backwoods of Canada, and a long crop of hair is rather an advantage to a man when the temperature is below zero. It followed, therefore, that Hank's head was well covered, and Joe's also. Indeed, our hero showed a somewhat ungainly growth of fluff about chin and cheeks and upper lip, which, if it made promise of budding manhood, could not be said to be expressly elegant. But there again your backwoodsman shines. The man who carries all his belongings with him upon his back and sets off for a winter, meaning to spend it in the open air, subsisting on what his gun can procure for him, is not likely to be over-nervous as to his appearance. Hair will grow, and garments will become rent, even with the greatest care. Life also is too strenuous to make smaller things matter. Suffice it to say that Joe looked a gentleman in spite of his get-up, while already he had proved himself a jovial and boon companion, one ready to enjoy sport if it came, to take the rough with the smooth, and to face danger as if it were part of the day's happenings.
"Ha! There they go, yelping like a pack o' dogs," cried Hank, a little later, when shouts and yelps came resounding from the forest and across the snow-clad face of the hillside. "Let 'em yell! It don't do us no harm, and don't bring the critters any nearer.
"How far now to camp?" asked Joe, swinging his head round.