"Are you sure you are going all right?" Nelly asked Harold. "It is so dark here that it seems impossible to know which way we are going."
"You can trust the Indians," Harold said. "Even if there was not a star to be seen they could find their way by some mysterious instinct. How you are grown, Nelly! Your voice does not seem much changed, and I am longing to see your face."
"I expect you are more changed than I am, Harold," the girl answered. "You have been going through so much since we last met, and you seem to have grown so tall and big. Your voice has changed very much, too; it is the voice of a man. How in the world did you find us here?"
Pearson had gone on ahead to speak to the Seneca, but he now joined them again.
"You mustn't talk," he said. "I hope there's no redskins within five miles of us now, but there's never any saying where they may be."
There was, Harold thought, a certain sharpness in the hunter's voice, which told of a greater anxiety than would be caused by the very slight risk of the quietly spoken words being heard by passing redskins, and he wondered what it could be.
They were now, he calculated, within a mile of the hiding place where they had left the boat, and they had every reason for believing that none of the Indians would be likely to have followed the shore so far. That they would be pursued and that, in so heavily laden a canoe, they would have great difficulty in escaping, he was well aware, but he relied on the craft of the hunters and Senecas for throwing their pursuers off the trail.
All at once the trees seemed to open in front, and in a few minutes the party reached the river. A cry of astonishment and of something akin to terror broke from Harold. As far as the eye could reach the lake was frozen. Their escape was cut off.
"That's jest what I've been expecting," Pearson said. "The ice had begun to form at the edge when we landed, and three days and nights of such frost as we've had since was enough to freeze Ontario. What on arth's to be done?"
No one answered. Peter and the redskins had shared Pearson's anxiety, but to Harold and Cameron the disappointment was a terrible one; as to Jake, he left all the thinking to be done by the others. Harold stood gazing helplessly on the expanse of ice which covered the water. It was not a smooth sheet, but was rough and broken, as if, while it had been forming, the wind had broken the ice up into cakes again and again, while the frost as often had bound them together.
They had struck the river within a few hundred yards of the place where the canoe was hidden, and, after a short consultation between the Seneca chief, Peter Lambton, and Pearson, moved down toward that spot.
"What are you thinking of doing?" Harold asked when they gathered round the canoe.
"We're going to load ourselves with the ammunition and deer's flesh," Peter said, "and make for a rocky island which lies about a mile off here. I noticed it as we landed. There's nothing to do but to fight it out to the last there. It are a good place for defense, for the redskins won't like to come out across the open, and, even covered by a dark night, they'd show on this white surface."
"Perhaps they won't trace us."
"Not trace us!" the trapper repeated scornfully. "Why, when daylight comes, they'll pick up our track and follow it as easy as you could that of a wagon across the snow."
They were just starting when Harold gave a little exclamation.
"What is it, lad?"
"A flake of snow fell on my face."
All looked up. The stars had disappeared. Another flake and another fell on the upturned faces of the party.
"Let's thank the great God," Peter said quietly. "There's a chance for our lives yet. Half an hour's snow and the trail 'll be lost."
Faster and faster the snowflakes came down. Again the leaders consulted.
"We must change our plans, now," Peter said, turning to the others. "So long as they could easily follow our tracks it mattered nothing that they'd find the canoe here; but now it's altogether different. We must take it along with us."
The weight of the canoe was very small. The greater part of its contents had already been removed. There was a careful look round to see that nothing remained on the bank; then four of the men lifted it on their shoulders, and the whole party stepped out upon the ice. The snow was now falling heavily, and to Harold's eyes there was nothing to guide them in the direction they were following. Even the Indians would have been at a loss had not the Seneca, the instant the snow began to fall, sent on one of his followers at full speed toward the island. Harold wondered at the time what his object could be as the Indian darted off across the ice, but now he understood. Every minute or two the low hoot of an owl was heard, and toward this sound the party directed their way through the darkness and snow.
So heavy was the fall that the island rose white before them as they reached it. It was of no great extent—some twenty or thirty yards across, and perhaps twice that length. It rose steeply from the water to a height of from ten to fifteen feet. The ground was rough and broken, and several trees and much brushwood grew in the crevices of the rock.
The Seneca and the hunters made a rapid examination of the island, and soon fixed upon the spot for their camp. Toward one end the island was split in two, and an indentation ran some distance up into it. Here a clear spot was found some three or four feet above the level of the water. It was completely hidden by thick bushes from the sight of anyone approaching by water. There the canoe was turned over, and the girls, who were both suffering from the intense cold, were wrapped up in blankets and placed under its shelter. The camp was at the lower end of the island and would, therefore, be entirely hidden from view of Indians gathered upon the shore. In such a snowstorm light would be invisible at a very short distance, and Peter did not hesitate to light a fire in front of the canoe.
For three hours the snow continued to fall. The fire had been sheltered by blankets stretched at some distance above it. Long before the snow ceased it had sunk down to a pile of red embers. A small tent had now been formed of blankets for the use of the girls; brushwood had been heaped over this, and upon the brushwood snow had been thrown, the whole making a shelter which would be warm and comfortable in the bitterest weather. A pile of hot embers was placed in this little tent until it was thoroughly heated; blankets were then spread, and the girls were asked to leave the shelter of the canoe and take their place there.
The canoe itself was now raised on four sticks three feet from the ground; bushes were laid round it and snow piled on, thus forming the walls of which the canoe was the roof. All this was finished long before the snow had ceased falling, and this added a smooth white surface all over, so that, to a casual eye, both tent and hut looked like two natural ridges of the ground. They were a cheerful party which assembled in the little hut. The remainder of the embers of the fire had been brought in, and, intense as was the cold outside, it was warm and comfortable within. Tea was made and pipes filled, and they chatted some time before going to sleep.
Duncan Cameron was like a man transfigured. His joy and thankfulness for the recovery of his daughter were unbounded. Harold's pleasure, too, at the rescue of his cousin was very great, and the others were all gratified at the success of their expedition. It was true that the Indians had as yet gained no scalps, but Harold had promised them before starting that, should the expedition be successful, they should be handsomely rewarded.
"We mustn't reckon as we are safe yet," Peter said in answer to one of Harold's remarks. "The redskins aint going to let us slip through their fingers so easy as all that. They've lost our trail and have nothing but their senses to guide 'em, but an Injun's senses aint easily deceived in these woods. Ef this snow begins again and keeps on for two or three days they may be puzzled; but ef it stops they'll cast a circle round their camp at a distance beyond where we could have got before the snow ceased, and ef they find no new trails they'll know that we must be within that circle. Then, as to the boats, when they find as we don't come down to the two as they've discovered, and that we've not made off by land, they'll guess as there was another canoe hidden somewhere, and they'll sarch high and low for it. Waal, they won't find it; and then they'll suppose that we may have taken to the ice, and they'll sarch that. Either they'll git to open water or to the other side. Ef there's open water anywhere within a few miles they may conclude that we've carried a canoe, launched it there, and made off. In that case, when they've sarched everywhere, they may give it up. Ef there aint no such open water, they'll sarch till they find us. It aint likely that this island will escape 'em. With nine good rifles here we can hold the place against the hull tribe, and as they'd show up against the snow, they can no more attack by night than by day."
"I don't think our food will hold out beyond seven or eight days," Harold said.
"Jest about that," Peter answered; "but we can cut a hole in the ice and fish, and can hold out that way, if need be, for weeks. The wust of it is that the ice aint likely to break up now until the spring. I reckon our only chance is to wait till we git another big snowstorm and then to make off. The snow will cover our trail as fast as we make it, and, once across to the other shore, we may git away from the varmints. But I don't disguise from you, Harold, that we're in a very awk'ard trouble, and that it 'll need all the craft of the chief, here, and all the experience of Pearson and me to get us out of it."
"The guid God has been vera merciful to us sae far," Duncan Cameron said; "he will surely protect us to the end. Had he na sent the snow just when he did, the savages could hae followed our trail at once; it was a miracle wrought in our favor. He has aided us to rescue the twa bairns frae the hands of the Indians, and we may surely trust in his protection to the end. My daughter and her friend hae, I am very sure, before lying down to sleep, entreated his protection. Let us a' do the same."
And the old soldier, taking off his cap, prayed aloud to God to heed and protect them.
Harold and the frontiersmen also removed their caps and joined in the prayer, and the Senecas looked on, silent and reverent, at an act of worship which was rare among their white companions.
As Peter was of opinion that there was no chance whatever of any search on the part of the Indians that night, and therefore there was no need to set a watch, the whole party wrapped themselves up in their blankets and were soon asleep.
When Harold woke next morning it was broad daylight. The Senecas had already been out and had brought news that a strong party of Indians could be seen moving along the edge of the forest, evidently searching for a canoe. One of the Indians was placed on watch, and two or three hours later he reported that the Indians were now entirely out of sight and were, when last seen, scouting along the edge of the forest.
"Now," Peter said, "the sooner we git another snowstorm the better. Ef we'd been alone we could have pushed on last night, but the gals was exhausted and would soon have died of the cold. Now, with a fresh start they'd do. Ef we can't cross the lake I calculate that we're about thirty mile from a p'int on the north shore below the falls of Ste. Marie, and we could land there and strike across through the woods for the settlement. It'd be a terrible long journey round the north of Huron, but we must try it ef we can't get across."
"But we could go off by night, surely," Harold said, "even if there is no fresh snow."
"We could do that," Peter replied; "no doubt of it. But ef they were to find our track the next day, ay, or within three days, they'd follow us and overtake us afore we got to the settlements. Ef we was alone, it'd be one thing; but with the gals it'd be another altogether. No, we must stop here till a snowstorm comes, even if we have to stop for a month. There's no saying how soon some of them Injuns may be loafing round, and we daren't leave a trail for 'em to take up."
They had scarcely ceased speaking when a low call from the Indian placed on watch summoned the chief to his side. A minute later the latter rejoined the group below and said a few words to Peter.
"Jest as I thought!" the latter grumbled, rising with his rifle across his arm. "Here are some of the varmints coming out this 'ere way. Likely enough it's a party of young braves jest scouting about on their own account, to try and get honor by discovering us when their elders have failed. It would have been better for them to have stopped at home."
The party now crept up to the top of the rock, keeping carefully below its crest.
"Ef you show as much as a hair above the top line," Peter said, "they'll see you, sartin."
"Would it not be well," Harold asked, "for one of us to show himself? There is no possibility of further concealment, and if they go off without any of them being killed the others might be less bitter against us than they would if they had lost some of their tribe."
Peter laughed scornfully.
"Ye haven't had much to do with Injuns, lad, but I should have thought you'd have had better sense nor that. Haven't these Injuns been a-murdering and a-slaying along the frontier all the summer, falling on defenseless women and children? Marcy and pity aint in their natur, and, fight or no fight, our scalps will dry in their wigwams if they get us into their power. They know that we can shoot and mean to, and that 'll make 'em careful of attacking us, and every hour is important. Now," he said to the others, "each of you cover a man and fire straight through your sights when I gives the word. There's others watching 'em, you may be sure, and ef the whole five go down together, it'll make 'em think twice afore they attack us again."
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CHAPTER XIV. RESCUED!
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CHAPTER XVI. THE GREAT STORM.
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