AN HOUR LATER Roger Bracknell started on his way back to the police-post, in a not very happy frame of mind. The chief of Fort Pilgrim was a man with little tolerance for failure, and the corporal knew that when he made his report it would be received with frowns. That was inevitable, but there was nothing for it but to return. His cousin and the Indian Joe had taken very effective measures to prevent him following on their trail when they had left him with a depleted dog-team and with only sufficient rations to carry him as far as North Star Lodge. Sorry as he was for his cousin he yet resented the action which had left him helpless, and his failure rankled as he swung steadily forward on the southward trail. Before the end of the day, however, a thought came to him. Duty was duty, and if he could reach North Star Lodge, there would be dogs there, and he could requisition them in the King’s name, and return to the pursuit. It did not seem a very nice thing to contemplate, but his oath of service left him no option, whilst the officer at Fort Pilgrim was bound to look askance at the whole affair, if he returned to explain that Koona Dick was his cousin, and that he had escaped him. Besides, there was Joy to consider. She could never be safe from molestation[107] whilst Dick Bracknell was at large. It was even possible that the latter, finding the Territory growing too hot for him, might venture to follow her to England, and as her husband claim his rights. That must be prevented at all costs, even at the cost of Dick suffering incarceration in the penal prison at Stony Mountain.
The end of the day, however, brought an unlooked-for event, which made an end of these half-formed plans. He had camped for the night, and having fed his dogs with the dried salmon-roe which formed their staple food, was preparing his own meal, when one of the animals gave a sudden sharp howl of pain. He looked hastily round, and saw the dog twisted in some kind of spasm, its backbone arched, its legs jerking in a strange fashion. He went to it, and as he approached the spasm ended, and the dog lay in the snow completely exhausted. He was stooping over it, wondering what was the matter when the other two dogs howled simultaneously, and he turned swiftly to see one of them leap straight in the air, and in a moment both of them were in spasms similar to the one he had already witnessed, and before his eyes one of them curled up like a bow, then suddenly relaxed, and lay stark and dead.
A dark suspicion shot through his mind, as he jerked himself upright. The first dog was plainly at the point of death, whilst the third was twisted by spasms that could have but one ending. He knew that there could be no recovery, that he could do nothing for them, and in a swift impulse of mercy he drew his pistol and shot them. Then he strode[108] to the sled, and lifting the small bale of dog food carried it to the fire, and by the flames of the burning pine examined it carefully. He had not to look long before he came upon some small white crystals in the creases of the roe. They might be snow, they might be frost crystals, but he did not think that they were either, and selecting one of the smallest of the white specks he placed it on his tongue. It was exceedingly bitter in taste.
“Strychnine!” he cried aloud, and then stood looking at the dead dogs with horror shining in his eyes. As he stood there one question was beating in his brain. “Who has done this thing? Who? Who?”
His thoughts flew back to his cousin. Had he—No! He could not believe that; for whoever had placed the strychnine in the dog food, had callously planned to murder him. And bad as Dick Bracknell was, the corporal felt that his cousin would not have done a thing like this.
“There’s that Indian—Joe,” he said, speaking his thoughts aloud. “From what Dick said he was afraid of me ... and he would have disposed of me at the beginning if he had had his way!” He was silent for a little time, then he nodded his head. “Yes! The Indian did it without Dick’s knowledge.”
For the moment he refused to think further about the matter. About him was the gloom of the pines, with their pall of snow, and everywhere the terrible silence of the North. Alone and without dogs to carry his stores, the situation was altogether desperate; and to reflect upon it overmuch[109] was to court madness. So he put the thought of it from him for the time being, and after dragging the dead dogs into the shadow of the forest, resumed the preparation of his evening meal. When he had eaten it, he erected a wind-screen, and lying in his sleeping bag, with his feet to the fire, lighted a pipe, and once more considered the problem before him.
It was at least four days’ journey to North Star Lodge, probably five or six, since he would have to carry the necessaries of life himself, and so burdened would not be able to travel fast. There was food for four days on the sled, and to make sure of reaching North Star, he would have to put himself on rations, and travel as fast as he could. Barring accidents there was an even chance of his getting through, but if any ill-chance arose then—He did not finish the thought. Knocking the ashes out of his pipe, he stretched himself down in the sleeping berth, and presently fell asleep.
When he awoke it was still dark, and the fire was burning low. He looked at his watch. It was five o’clock. He stretched himself a little, and thrusting his arm out of the sleeping bag, he threw a couple of spruce boughs on the fire. The resinous wood quickly caught, and as it flared up he looked round. On the edge of the circle of light, which his fire cut out of the darkness, something caught his eye. He looked again. Two tiny globes of light, about three feet above the ground, appeared to be suspended on nothing. He watched them steadily, and for the briefest moment of time, saw them eclipsed, then they reappeared. He looked further. There were other twin globes of light,[110] scattered all round, and, as the spruce crackled into flame, he caught sight of an animal’s head, and the outline of its form.
“Timber-wolves!” he whispered to himself.
Feeling for his automatic pistol, he lay waiting his opportunity. Undoubtedly, the bodies of his dead dogs had already served the savage beasts for a meal, and now they were watching him, perhaps already counting him their prey.
He did not feel particularly afraid. He knew that the wolf is really a coward, and that unless driven by hunger, it seldom attacks man, but all the same he thought it wise to teach the beast a lesson. So when the shadowy form of one of the beasts moved, he sighted and fired. The wolf gave a yelp, jumped clean in the air, and dropped dead well within the circle of firelight. He looked round again. The watching eyes in the darkness had disappeared. Presently however they returned, and lying perfectly still, he saw a gaunt dog wolf slink out of the shadows towards its dead comrade, and fall on it with its teeth. Another followed and another, and a moment later there was a snarl............