His presence, distasteful as it was, had brought a quick change in the spirits of the party. Hope rose again in Dick’s heart, and his enthusiasm and energy were unbounded. He had ceased to worry about getting lost or even wandering from the trail. Threatened with the most dire punishment, Lamont was forced to set their course.
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Shortly after the return of the guide, they came upon the first log cabin they had seen since leaving Mackenzie River. It stood in a thick clump of trees, and had been recently built judging from the freshly-scored logs and its general appearance of newness. A flutter of interest, not unmixed with awe and wonderment and curiosity, stirred the party. Necks craned suddenly, drivers deserted their teams to go forward to talk to other drivers, even the huskies raised their tawny heads, as if to sniff out this new mystery.
In the lead at the time, breaking trail, Sandy gave the cabin the benefit of one swift look of appraisement, then started forward on the run. He proceeded very rapidly for fifty or sixty yards, then stopped short so abruptly that the point of one snowshoe became entangled in the other and he fell headlong.
Dick and Dr. Brady both started to laugh, but the sound died on their lips. They watched Sandy rise and start back, waving his arms frantically. The driver of the first team pulled up short. The second team, close behind the first, also pulled up short, but not soon enough to prevent an entanglement, which led to a furious fight among the malemutes.
Dick and Dr. Brady ran to the driver’s assistance, reaching the scene of trouble just a moment before Sandy arrived breathless. White-lipped, the young Scotchman waited until the commotion had subsided.
“Dr. Brady,” he began, “I guess you——”
His words trailed off to a mumbling incoherence. He sat down on the sledge, gesturing a little wildly, his expression difficult to describe.
114
“Did you——” he inquired in horror-struck tones, “I say, did you see—see it, too?”
Dr. Brady nodded gravely. Dick stared, moistening his lips.
“A red flag,” said the physician. “We weren’t quite sure. There was something there just outside fluttering—— A cloth. A rag of some sort. Looked red.”
“Exactly,” Sandy spoke tersely with a deep intake of breath. “Smallpox!”
“Smallpox!” Dick echoed the word.
“I’ll go over,” announced Dr. Brady quite calmly. “Get my case, Dick.”
The case was brought. The physician took it smiling.
“Shall we go with you?” asked Dick.
“No; it isn’t necessary. You’d better stay here.”
The news quickly spread. Smallpox! Faces grew gray and anxious. One by one, the drivers slunk back to their places, while all talk ceased.
Finally, Sandy jerked his hand back in the direction of the cabin.
“We’ll see lots of that sort of thing before we return to the Mackenzie.”
“Yes, when we get to Keechewan. But I doubt if we’ll find another smallpox case this side of the Barrens,” said Dick. “Terrible business, isn’t it?”
115
Both, as if by a common impulse, looked up and stared over at the cabin. The red cloth fascinated them. It furled and fluttered softly, yet ominously, in the light breeze.
The boys wondered what Dr. Brady was doing. He had entered the cabin, closing the door after him. They both started as the door opened and their friend emerged. They saw him raise one arm, beckoning them to come closer. A little fearfully, Dick and Sandy obeyed. They were strangely excited. Stalking up before the door, they observed that the physician was very grave indeed.
“Well?” said Dick, the first one to speak.
Brady stepped away from the door and came toward them, his eyes evasive.
“There’s only one thing to do,” he announced in a curiously soft and gentle voice. “Set fire to the cabin. We’re too late.”
“Too late?” repeated Sandy.
“Yes, too late.”
“How—how many inside there?” whispered Dick.
“Two half-breed trappers—one young and one old.”
“And they both had it?” the boys asked in unison.
“Yes,” Dr. Brady’s mouth twitched at the corners. “They’re gone. We came too late. As I just said, there’s only one thing to do: Set fire to the cabin. Burn it down.”
“Burn it,” asked Sandy. “What for?”
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“As a matter of precaution. To protect the lives of others. Now and again, some lone wanderer might chance this way.”
Sandy and Dick stood looking at the physician during an odd interval of silence. Of course, he knew best. They realized that. And it would save time. Dick touched Sandy’s shoulder and together the two friends moved toward the timber at the back of the house. They carried dry bark and branches, soon gathering a large pile, which they threw down in front of the door. Soon a fire was started. It mounted slowly at first, smouldering and cracking, but presently it leaped up, quickly spreading to every part of the building.
“That’s done,” Sandy sighed relievedly. “Let’s go back.”
It was a little awkward joining the party again. Yet no one questioned them. They were greeted with curious stares and frightened glances. At noon they were miles away and halted for a midday meal in the shelter of a spruce grove, through which there ran the wandering course of a tiny stream.
It occurred to Dick that this stream might be one of the tributaries of the Wapiti River, which they must cross ere long. He was discussing this possibility with Toma, shortly after lunch, when Sandy came up shaking his head.
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