A frenzied splashing of oars, another warning shout—a crash! It was the crumpling impact of wood against rock that Rand heard, followed by the shrieks of two men in mortal terror. Experienced in such matters, he sensed immediately what had occurred. Sweeping down the swift, treacherous current, the boat had veered in too close to shore, had struck a rock and had overturned. The men were in the water. His fault entirely. That foolish screech——
Shouting out his encouragement, the corporal waded out into the stream and, without a moment’s hesitation, dove forward and commenced swimming to their rescue.
CHAPTER IX
CAMERON FEELS THE STRAIN
The advance guard of the Edmonton relief expedition arrived at Mackenzie River two days late. Included among its personnel were Dick Kent, Sandy and Toma and two medical men, Drs. Brady and Mattinson. Joy over the safe arrival of the party was shadowed by the news of the destruction of one of the planes and the death of Stewart, the aviator.
Inspector Cameron began at once to plan two separate itineraries into the stricken areas. One of the physicians, it was decided, would be sent immediately to the country north of the Mackenzie, from whence Davis had brought first word of the epidemic. Another party was instructed to proceed north and east toward the barren lands, over the selfsame route Corporal Rand had but recently taken.
It was while these preparations were being carried out that the three boys, Dick, Sandy and Toma, were called into the presence of the mounted police official. Caps in hand, feeling awkward and ill at ease, they listened to the grave and somewhat impatient voice of the inspector.
“Can’t tell you how pleased I am. Splendid! You’ve done well. Want to thank each one of you. Suppose you think you’re going home now.”
The assertion seemed to require an answer. Sandy twisted his cap into a knot, smiled, cleared his throat and assumed the part of spokesman.
“Yes, sir. We are under that impression.”
Cameron scowled, running his fingers through his rumpled hair.