Four miles is not far. In the north country, where distance plays such an important part in the lives of the inhabitants, four miles would be accounted but a step, a unit of space hardly worth considering. Yet to Dick and his party, who had set out in pursuit of the Indian invaders, it seemed a long way indeed. It was a weary trail and a hard one. It was fraught with danger, with grave foreboding.

It seemed to the young leader, as they fared forth across that ghastly moonlit field, that his life had been spent on trails. Daily he walked along some trail. At night he slept beside one. When chill morning broke across a bleak snow-covered land, it was only to resume that never-ending, continuous trek.

It was a sort of Nemesis that haunted him. Somehow he couldn’t get away from it. The trail!——It was there always. It beckoned to him. It defied him. It led him wearily, doggedly on to new dangers and disasters.
195

On the night in question, the four miles seemed inconceivably long. The feet of his party dragged. A moody silence hung about them. No one laughed. Conversation had ceased. Behind him came the monotonous crunch, crunch, crunch of scores of snowshoes, beating out a path. Crunch, crunch, crunch—tired, laggard feet moved hesitatingly, moved fearfully, ready at the slightest pretext to turn and flee.

Neither Dick nor his two chums believed that in case of an attack, any of the Indians, comprising their party, would make a stand. They were too fearful. In the final crisis, so Dick believed, he would be forced to depend solely upon his two friends and himself. Yet in numbers there is strength. Their imposing array would be sure to impress the enemy.

They reached the village. They bore down upon it, forty strong, shouting their defiance. With their rifles ready, they entered the outskirts, laggard steps becoming more laggard, frightened faces becoming more frightened as the crisis approached. They were offered no resistance. Could it be that the village was asleep? A few huskies sniffed at their heels. A papoose cried in one of the tepees they passed. Still they went on.
196

In the brilliant star-sprinkled sky a few clouds were visible. One particularly dark cloud passed across the moon. Shadows fell athwart the tepees. It was darker now. The forms of Dick’s followers became shrouded in gloom. Along the white snow surface crept a huge dark stain, an immensity of shadow that blotted the earth.

The tepees were black blotches now against a dark background. Out of this obscurity, coming as unexpectedly as a fire-siren, shrieking its warning, there rose a blood-curdling, hideous yell. Dick literally froze in his tracks. A cold sweat broke out upon his face. He had scarcely the strength to stand upon his tottering legs.

The yell was followed by the cracking of rifles, the whining of bullets. Appalled, his men drew back. For a brief moment they stood their ground, then broke and fled in confusion. The retreat became a rout. Panic spread, rifles were hurled to one side, and a few minutes later Dick’s valiant supporters disappeared from view, swallowed up in the semi-darkness.

Dick saw the absolute futility of attempting anything further that night. Moving more leisurely, he and his two chums followed his defeated column. Again the trail oppressed him. Hope had gone glimmering. He had reached the end of the road. He heard Sandy speaking in mournful tones:
197

“Well, I guess there isn’t much we can do now. It’s all over. I wouldn’t give one whoop for Dr. Brady’s chances now, or the priest’s either. What do you think about it, Toma?”

For once the young Indian was at a loss to know what to say. He shook his head and walked on beside them.

“I’m tired of it all,” said Dick. “Our luck has deserted us. There used to be a time, Sandy, when we could stumble through difficulties blindly. But I’m afraid that that time has passed. We’re up against a solid rock wall. We can’t scale it. It’s too high for our puny strength. We’re helpless.”

“And yet,” said Sandy, almost reverently, “Corporal Rand came up here single-handed to accomplish what we have failed to do with forty men. Have you stopped to think about that?”

“Yes, but Corporal Rand is licked too.”

“The trail did that. I’m willing to bet that if Corporal Rand were here now, he’d dare to go back to that Indian village alone, and would probably be successful too.”

“I realize that. But how do they do it? It’s a thing I’ve often wondered at.”
198

“I can’t explain it myself,” said Sandy, “unless it is the awe in which they are held. You see, Dick, all the people who live in this north country know what wonderful men they are, how brave and determined. They’re afraid of them. But it’s something more than fear. It goes deeper than that. It’s—it’s——I can’t tell you what it is. It isn’t exactly awe or reverence or fear. Perhaps it is a mixture of all these things. I really can’t tell you.” They struggled on, soon reaching the village, where they were met by Father Michaud, who was now in charge of the mission. Father Michaud carried a lantern. He was a much older man than either of his two associates. He held the lantern out before him, and as the boys came closer, peered up anxiously in their faces.

“Ah, monsieur, is it not terrible. Ees everyone safe? Are there no dead? So terrible—so terrible!” he lamented. “Even from here I hear those awful shouts an’ ze sound of ze rifles. Did you make a brave ree-sistance?”

“How could we?” answered Sandy. “Everybody ran away. At the first sound of firing, our brave little army vanished like a flock of frightened sheep.”

“An’ you saw nothing of ze Father Bleriot an’ ze good Dr. Brad-ee?”

“No. We saw nothing of them.”

“Et ees so terrible,” wailed the priest “Tomorrow will you go again?”

“I’ll have to think that over,” Dick replied. “But what is the use. If you can supply me with some really brave and courageous men, I’ll undertake to bring the good father and Dr. Brady back.”
199

“Ah, but my people, zey are so prostrate, so heavy with grief. Ze spirit has gone out of them.”

“Well, I’m not surprised at that,” said Sandy, a little more charitable.

“Et ees to be regretted zat ze policeman ees seeck. He ees a wonderful man, zat Corporal Rand. Nothing on earth can stop zat man.”

“What did I tell you,” whispered Sandy, nudging Dick’s arm. “He knows it too.”

“What will monsieur do now?”

“First of all, we’ll ha............