Away to the left appeared a huge draw, well known for the violent gales it frequently vomited forth. Many were the native legends concerning this place; of the monster of the mountains who made his abode there, and who when angry would hurl forth his overwhelming spleen upon unwary navigators.
Often Tonda and his companions cast furtive glances toward the yawning draw, and drove their paddles with greater energy than ever. On and on they sped. They reached the mouth of the gap. They came opposite the place. They were almost past, and the Indians breathed more freely. The monster was not angry, or had not noticed them. Perhaps he was asleep at that time of the morning. But, alas! they were doomed to disappointment. Without one warning sign a gale ripped down the draw with a wild concentrated fury, and spreading over the lake lashed the water into a yeasty foam.
With dismay the Indians beheld the onrushing storm, and headed the canoe for shore. How they did work, and the craft leaped on her way like a thing of life.
Nearer and nearer they approached the beach. Would they win? Yes. No, for the tempest struck them full abeam. It whirled and roared about them in mad glee. It tossed the canoe like a cork, and dashed the water over the crouching forms.
Madeline clutched Donnie in her arms, and drew him close to her breast. His white, scared face looked up appealingly into hers, though he uttered not a word, nor did a cry escape his lips.
Steadily and calmly the natives plied their paddles, and managed the canoe with considerable skill. But as they neared the shore the large ground swells formed a menace to their advance. Into them they ran, for there was no other course to pursue. From crest to crest they were hurried, each growing larger as they surged forward. When only a short distance from land, a wave larger than usual curled angrily right astern, broke over the canoe, completely submerging everything. Instantly the craft was caught by another roller, which tossed it forward, and, retreating, left it stranded upon the beach. At once a rush ensued. Madeline with Donnie in her arms sped up the bank, with Nadu in advance. The Indians seized the canoe, dragged it after them just in time to escape the next breaker which broke, grinning upon the shore.
CHAPTER XII LINKS OF STEEL
When Norman Grey flung himself out of Old Meg's house his one burning idea was to seek the man who had insulted Madeline. He half expected to find him where he had left him, and was more than disappointed when no sign of the rascal was to be seen. He hurried along the trail desirous of reaching the store as quickly as possible, and meeting Siwash Bill face to face. Although unarmed the thought of fear or of the possible outcome of a personal affray with such a man never entered his head. But as he walked swiftly forward and the cool night air fanned his hot brow, he realised how unwise would be such a line of action at the present critical condition of affairs. Nothing would be gained, he felt sure, and much harm might be done by indiscreet hastiness. He would wait for a while. Too many things were at stake. He knew how the squaw man would be incensed by the blow he had received, and that he would, no doubt, seek speedy revenge in some underhanded manner.