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CHAPTER XVI
Choosing a Fortress

Barely ten minutes had passed from the moment when Hank led the way downhill, from the spot where he and his comrades had taken up their position and had repulsed the enemy, till the little hunter suddenly lifted an arm, bringing the party to an abrupt halt. Then he signalled to Beaver Jack, and with the lean, lanky figure of the Redskin beside him, stood listening intently. A second later all three were lying flat on their faces.

"You kin hear folks moving somewhars about," whispered the little hunter in Joe's ear, "but where they aer is more'n I kin say at the moment. Yer see, the snow makes things mighty difficult, while the tree trunks break up every sound and scatter it in all directions. But them critters is moving near. Seems likely they ha' halted for a while."

Tense silence fell upon the three, while each one huddled his body deeper into the snow, edging behind the largest tree and doing his utmost to make himself invisible. Hank, indeed, burrowed beneath the snow, and extracting huge handfuls of the white crystals, tossed them over his body.

"In course no half-breed and no Injun would pass us within a hundred yards and not see us," he said grimly. "But every little helps in cases like this. S – s – sh! Didn't I hear someone callin'?"

"Down there." Joe pointed eagerly downhill, hardly even whispering the words. And then, quite plainly to the ears of every one of the party, there came the note of a human voice, subdued and eager. Rising in cadence for the instant, it fell immediately and then died away altogether. Afterwards not a sound disturbed the ghostly silence of the patch of forest through which they were passing; that is, not a sound audible to our hero. Hank's staring eyes and the eager expression on the hawk-like face of the Redskin told their own story. They heard something. To them the presence of the enemy was evident. Ah! Joe buried his head still deeper, for away in the distance a figure came of a sudden into view sliding silently between the tree trunks. A second followed, muffled to the eyes; a third, a fourth, till eight in all were visible. Perhaps two hundred yards separated them from Joe and his comrades. Perhaps they were even closer. In any case, their proximity was such that the little party in hiding was in the utmost danger. One point, however, was in their favour. The enemy were facing the west, and were cutting across the line of flight which our hero had suggested. A minute passed, then two. It began to look as if the danger would be gone in a few moments. Then, of a sudden, that low-pitched, eager voice was heard again, and, raising his head ever so slightly, Joe saw that the enemy had halted and were now bunched together.

"Talking it over," he told himself, hearing voices. "They have an idea that they have come far enough west, and that now they had better cut uphill again, having got well behind us. Wish they had gone on another hundred yards or so, then there wouldn't have been any danger."

"The critters!" he heard Hank growl. "Ef they ain't turning uphill at this instant!"

That indeed seemed to be the intention of the enemy; for, breaking from the circle into which they had collected, they went off again in single file, one burly individual leading. As for the features of these unfriendly strangers, what they were like and of exactly what nationality, neither Joe nor Hank nor Beaver Jack had the smallest inkling; for the enemy one and all were thickly clad in furs, muffled to their eyes, and at that distance seemed to be merely grotesque bundles of clothing. This, however, was certain – they were adepts at the art of snowshoeing. Not one but was accustomed to the forest, for beyond a voice or two not another sound had come from them. Facing the hillside, they curled off in that direction and slowly moved upward.

"It aer a toss up," Hank whispered, under his breath. "Yer see, now that they've turned they gets a broadside view of where we're lying instead of a head-on view. See here, Joe, ef they spots us, jest get in behind a tree and pepper 'em; if they don't, be ready to move off the instant we're able. Seems to me as ef I've an idea that'll bother them badly."

The ten minutes which followed were trying, for once again the enemy halted, gathering together to discuss the situation. It appeared as if they were a little uncertain of their position, and at one moment they appeared to be on the point of proceeding in the direction which they were taking when first Joe and his friends saw them. But at last they went on again and slowly passed out of hearing.

"That war a near go," whispered Hank, with a sigh of relief, as he rose to an erect position. "Now fer that idea of mine. Yer see, we've got to bother 'em badly, fer it won't be long afore they comes upon the spot where we were lying. In course there'll be a hullabaloo at once, and back they'll come after us. Ef they're sure of the line we've taken they'll cut clear across for their sleighs, and then there won't be a dog's chance for us. Joe, look lively jest now, and see as you do as you see me and Beaver Jack doing."

He faced downhill without another word, while the Redskin fell in behind him. Indeed, the silent man seemed to have already guessed at Hank's intentions, or was it that the cunning learned by all hunters is of such a class that their minds move always on parallel lines, and difficulties are met in almost similar fashion? Whatever the reason, Beaver Jack seemed to have guessed intuitively what Hank's plan was to be, and fell in behind him without uttering a syllable. Then came Joe, watching closely, wondering what new tricks he would see put into execution.

"It aer plain," began Hank, when at length he had reached the track along which the enemy had so recently passed, "it aer clear as daylight that when them critters finds that we have moved, they will come dashing downhill as ef there was demons behind 'em. They'll come along in our tracks, and ef we was to cross their own here and cut a line of our own, why, in course there wouldn't be any need for 'em to wait to look about for the direction. So here we plays an old Injun game that ain't so often practised in these days – now!"

He swung round, and moving a few paces beside the track which the half-breeds had followed, joined it at an acute angle, making it appear as if he and his comrades were going in the same direction. Then the wily little hunter stepped out of his snowshoes and, reversing his own direction, thrust his warmly-moccasined feet into them in the reverse order.

"Yer catch the idea?" he grinned. "Now I walks along the way they came, but to look at the marks I'll leave you'd think I was jest going along with them. It aer said that a bear'll walk backward to his winter lair so as to deceive his enemies. That's what we're doing."

With shoes reversed, the little fellow set off at once, halting for a few seconds, once he had passed his comrades, so as to enable each in turn to step on to the track and face about. Then the three proceeded, the turning of their shoes making no great difference to their movement. As to the track they left, it was inextricably mixed up with the marks made by the enemy, and seeing that their snowshoes were reversed, it appeared that they were following the same direction.

"Not as a Redskin nor a half-breed wouldn't spot the thing right off," whispered Hank, "that is, ef it war a fresh track we was making; for it aer natural for a man to put his heel down heavily, even when carrying a snowshoe, and a practised tracker, same as these half-breeds, would see that the front part of our shoes is pressed into the snow. But here there's the marks of eight pairs of shoes already, and our three'll mix up nicely with 'em. Now, boys, let's git along slick; every second'll be of importance."

It was in silence after that that they thrust their way through the forest, and seeing that the direction the enemy had taken took the little party downhill, their pace was extremely rapid. Perhaps half an hour later Hank again came to a halt, pointing before him.

"Here we takes our own line," he said. "I guess those critters cut downhill amongst the trees yonder till they had got below a fold in the ground which would hide them. Then they swung straight across for our side, knowing that we couldn't see 'em. Wall, we'll do the same; we'll strike straight out into the open and, cutting away from their track, dive down the hill into the valley. After that we'll make a bee-line for the camp, and there make ready for the ruction that's bound to follow. Seems to me, Joe, as ef I'd already got an idea of a spot that would give us cover."

"Stop! Listen!" suddenly exclaimed our hero, raising one hand and standing in the position of keen attention. "I heard sounds from behind us. I feel sure that – "

"Yer ain't got no need to tell us what it aer," said Hank curtly, in the abrupt way he had when something specially stirred him. "Them critters has got to the point where they hoped to spring upon us and wipe us out, and they aer fair bustin' with rage to find that we've given 'em the slip. They'll be tumblin' downhill now as fast as their legs will bring 'em, and ef it warn't that we've put up a fine start and have left something behind to worry 'em a little, they'd be on our heels afore we could look round. Now, Beaver Jack, guess we've a long chase afore us; you kin take the lead and strike slick for the camp. I'll go behind and keep a weather eye open for them critters."

There was perfect order and coolness amongst the little party, though a glance at any one of the faces showed that all appreciated the danger of their position. No one, indeed, could have failed to gather that discovery of their escape would bring the whole pack of half-breeds chasing after them; the exchange of shots between the two parties, and the fact that the enemy had been the first to open fire proved, if proof were wanted, that a closer approach on their part would result in more shots, and in the slaying of Joe and his friends, if that were possible.

"But why? What is the attack made for?" Joe found himself saying under his breath again and again. "We don't look to be rich, I'm sure. We're just ordinary trappers or prospectors, and from what I have gathered such people don't carry much in the way of money with them. The rich prospectors, also, don't dream of setting out into the backwoods during the winter. They choose the spring and summer for two reasons, I guess. One, because then they can see the land, for there isn't any snow, and so can search for the veins of metal which attract them; and secondly, because they haven't severe weather to face. It beats me hollow; one would have thought that these men had been set upon us for some other purpose than that of robbery."

It was one of those questions, in fact, which would have taken a more worldly-wise fellow than Joe to answer; indeed, had he but known the true reason of this unlooked-for and undeserved attack, he would have been astounded. For the band then shrieking and shouting behind them, and at that moment dashing downhill on their snowshoes, had set out to search for our hero and his friends. They had hunted high and low for the trace of two prospectors, for the snowshoe marks left by Joe and Hank, and had fallen upon those marks prior to their joining hands with Beaver Jack. But the accession of one to the number of the little party made not the smallest difference. Why should it? There were nine in this gang, and only three in the other.

But Joe had other things to do than to worry his head as to reasons. After all, what did it matter who this enemy was? What difference could knowing make to our hero and his friends? For enemies are much the same all the world through. Once it is demonstrated that they aim at the slaying of those they follow, all come under the same heading. All are dangerous, and it behoves those who have to defend their lives to take the utmost precautions.

Beaver Jack therefore led the flight at a speed which suited Joe, who did not find it very hard to keep up, seeing that the way lay downhill. As for the Redskin, he might have been out for a promenade only; his shoes slid over the now hard-frozen surface with a queer little rustling sound, seeming to carry the user's legs rather than to require effort on his part. His head was sunk low down upon his breast, his hooked nose and upturned chin approximated. But nothing escaped this man of the woods, this child of nature, whose hearing and instincts were as developed as those of the wildest animal.

Hank made a pretty, if a rugged picture. The little man seemed almost to have his ears cocked backwards. In any case, they lay flat against his head, the coon-skin cap just dropping on to them. His head was erect, and even as he slid along over the snow there was little doubt that not a sound escaped him.

"Them critters ha' jest come to the spot whar we dropped in on their trace," he growled. "You kin tell as they're finely bothered. Seems to me they'll send a party forward and one along this way, and in a bit we shall hear a hullabaloo that'll be loud enough to scare the moose this side of the big lakes. You ain't tired, Joe?"

"Not I!" came the hearty answer. "Could go on for a while longer."

"Then you'll have need. There won't be so much between us by the time we reach camp; then it'll be a case fer thinkin'."

As if the question of their further movements bothered him, as indeed it did, his fingers slid up beneath his cap, a habit the little fellow had, and played with a loose lock of his thick hair; for Hank's hair was thick. Barbers do not live round the corner in the backwoods of Canada, and a long crop of hair is rather an advantage to a man when the temperature is below zero. It followed, therefore, that Hank's head was well covered, and Joe's also. Indeed, our hero showed a somewhat ungainly growth of fluff about chin and cheeks and upper lip, which, if it made promise of budding manhood, could not be said to be expressly elegant. But there again your backwoodsman shines. The man who carries all his belongings with him upon his back and sets off for a winter, meaning to spend it in the open air, subsisting on what his gun can procure for him, is not likely to be over-nervous as to his appearance. Hair will grow, and garments will become rent, even with the greatest care. Life also is too strenuous to make smaller things matter. Suffice it to say that Joe looked a gentleman in spite of his get-up, while already he had proved himself a jovial and boon companion, one ready to enjoy sport if it came, to take the rough with the smooth, and to face danger as if it were part of the day's happenings.

"Ha! There they go, yelping like a pack o' dogs," cried Hank, a little later, when shouts and yelps came resounding from the forest and across the snow-clad face of the hillside. "Let 'em yell! It don't do us no harm, and don't bring the critters any nearer.

"How far now to camp?" asked Joe, swinging his head round.

"Guess we're more'n halfway; in half an hour we shall do it. Suppose these fellers has been there already and has cleared all that we left."

The suggestion was disconcerting, for supposing the enemy had taken all the worldly belongings of this little party, how could they face a prolonged journey? In the summer it would make but little difference, for a stew-pan and a kettle are not absolute necessaries. Compared with the needs of the Redskins, they are merely luxuries, though long acquaintance with those useful articles has made white men find them an important portion of camping equipment. The habit of tea-drinking throughout the settlements and townships of the Dominion requires a kettle, and Joe doubted whether even the resourceful Beaver Jack could supplement such an article, however many birch trees there might be, and whatever his skill in fashioning the bark.

"Never cry till you're kicked," sang out Hank cheerfully, "and when you're kicked jest kick back mighty hard, ef only to show as you're still movin'. Ef they've took our kit, it's bad; ef they wipe us out clean, it's wuss. Let's put on steam a bit."

Beaver Jack seemed to understand the demand at once, for he broke into something resembling a jog trot, if there is such a thing when dealing with snowshoes. In any case, his feet slid over the snow at increased pace, and Joe found himself sweeping forward at a speed which set the freezing air buzzing against his ears, and brought a bright flush of colour to his face. It soon became evident, too, that the wily Redskin had noted every feature of the ground as he led his friends from the camp that morning; for suddenly, as the surface ceased to shelve and became almost level, he changed his direction. Nor did he join the wide track which presently crossed before him; he merely grunted and pointed.

"Half-breeds come along there," he said. "Go different way ourselves."

Joe looked closely at the trace they were crossing. There were the marks of the runners of two sleighs cutting through tracks evidently left by the dog teams, and on either hand, and mixed up with the former marks, were the impressions of many snowshoes.

"But – " he began, "if this is their line, and they followed us from the camp, as seems more than likely, why not take the same line back? They are sure to have come the quickest way."

"You bet; they jest followed our trace, and guess we came direct," said Hank. "Only you can't see our marks, as they've trod all over 'em. But you leave this here matter to Beaver Jack. He aer a cunnin' boy, and 'way back at the end of his head he's got an idea that'll knock fits out of them 'ere critters. I've half guessed at it already; you'll see. Seems to me we shall almost fly the last half of the distance."

"Eh?" Joe stared at the little hunter. He was quite willing to be led, and had implicit faith in his companions, but he was one of those inquisitive fellows who like to know the why and wherefore of everything. "But – fly!" he exclaimed.

"Ay – fly!" grinned Hank; "jest go along quicker nor a sleigh could take us. Ain't that it, Jack?"

Beaver Jack could enjoy a joke with anyone, only he enjoyed it in a manner peculiarly his own, or, one might more correctly say, in a manner characteristic of his people. His eyes were twinkling as he faced about, while his hooked nose and upturned chin seemed to have approached even nearer.

"It is well that the young men should know what is happening," he said. "They look to their elders for instruction, and in asking thus Joe shows that he is interested. It will also tell him the need there is always to watch the country he passes through. Listen: the land beyond falls very steeply. Leaving the camp, we passed to the right, so as to gain a track which was easy. To climb is hard; to descend is a different matter."

It was not all said in that fashion, for Beaver Jack's English was not of an advanced order. But a man of intelligence could understand him with ease, and, hearing what he had to say, Joe quickly realized what was about to happen. Also he remembered that the ground did rise immediately in front of their camp, and at such an angle that to climb it would have been almost impossible; but to descend would be easy.

"Easy as fallin' off a house," grunted Hank. "Jest sit down on your snowshoes and slide; sleighing won't be in it."

Speeding along now across a field of virgin snow through which an occasional tree cropped, the party were not long in gaining a belt of forest trees clinging to the hillside. Passing through these, they again emerged on to a space which was open, and over which the white winter mantle was spread, without so much as a footmark to mar its beauty. But the field seemed to end abruptly on that edge farthest from the summit of the hills, and striking out for the white line where sky and snow seemed to merge, the trio soon found themselves on the verge of a steep and smooth declivity. From it a splendid view was to be obtained, for the rays from the declining sun lit up a gorgeous landscape, swept with white from end to end, dotted here and there with darker patches, showing long shadows where the hollows lay, while patches of trees of larger and smaller extent cropped up everywhere. There was their camp, too, nestling at the foot of a clump of pines, while at its back was one huge expanse of white, unbroken, unmarked, bearing not even a shadow.

"A lake, and a big 'un, too," observed Hank. "Ef we'd looked that way this morning once we got on to the hill we might have seen it. But we was in the trees most of the time, and I expect that folds in the ground kept us elsewhere. Now fer a slide. Slip yer gun from yer shoulder and use it as a guiding stick. Yer see, it's mighty steep here, and though, ef you rolled from top to bottom, it wouldn't do no great harm – for there's drifts that would catch you – still it's nicer and better to go face forward. So put the butt in on one side and a little behind, and guide and brake with it."

That was a glorious ride down the hill. It carried Joe back to days, now so far off they seemed, when there had been a heavy fall of snow in England, and he, with friends in the little town, had rigged up a toboggan and had carried it to the hills. The speed then had been great; it was terrific here. However, there was no time for pausing; besides, the Redskin made nothing of it. This form of progress seemed to him to be much the same as any other. Without a word, with hardly a look at his comrades, he strode to the very edge, sat down on his snowshoes, and, thrusting the butt of his gun into the snow, pushed himself over the brink. He went whirling down before a mighty cloud of snowflakes kicked up by his shoes, and left behind him a track which a man standing in the valley below could have seen from a great distance. Once he swerved, and looked as if he were about to turn over; but the guiding gun held him straight, and in an extraordinary short space of time he was waiting for them at the bottom.

"Wall," grinned Hank, "you or me? Ef there was a chance of them critters coming along I'd say you."

"And I'd say you," laughed Joe. "I'd feel that I had to stay to protect you."

"Gee! Ef that don't beat the hull band," gasped Hank. "Protect me, you said! As ef I war a baby. Now, see here, lad; we'll make a race of it. You're heavier nor me, and so will have an advantage. At the same time, I'm that light I'll slide over the snow easier. We'll see who makes the quickest job of it."

"Agreed!" cried Joe. "Ready?"

"Ready it aer."

"Then off!"

They thrust themselves over the edge and went whirling down, huge clouds of snow spurting to either side of their snowshoes. Nor did Joe find the task one of the easiest. He swerved, and with a dig of his gun recovered his position. But the movement sent him twirling the opposite way. He made a desperate effort, and wrenched his body round again till he faced downhill; then, just as is the case with skis, something seemed to go wrong with his snowshoes. They displayed an unaccountable and all-powerful tendency to separate. No amount of effort would draw them together. The result was speedy disaster. Joe rose a little, struggling to regain equilibrium, but a curious thing happened. The very raising of his body proved fatal; for suddenly the shoes stuck fast, the toes entering the surface in spite of the steep slope. Thus arrested, our hero pitched forward on to his head, doubled up into a beautiful and most elegant circle, and went speeding down the hill like a ball, this time at an infinitely quicker rate. His antics, too, from that moment forward were more than funny, for he straightened himself out, with arms and legs widespread.

"I'll have the breath knocked clean out of my body if I don't come to a stop soon," he thought. "Ah! That does it; that's better!"

However, the relief was for the moment only. The pace lessened; he began to think that presently he would find a resting-place from which he might once more put himself in position for the remainder of the descent. But alas! he was to be disappointed. Shooting into a deep drift, he found himself buried beneath the snow, and expected to stay there. But the force of his descent carried all before it. His body broke through the mass of snow, and once more he was hurtling downward, falling this way and that, sliding, rolling head first sometimes, and at others the reverse. At last, however, he was able to arrest the rapid and exciting movement.

"Gee!" he cried. "That was a doer! Where's my gun? And one shoe gone also."

It happened that the lost articles had more or less kept him company. The gun, in fact, lay within a few feet of him, while as he turned there was the lost snowshoe descending in a dignified manner towards him. He snatched at it, donned it in haste, and once more prepared for the rest of the journey.

"Better luck, I hope," he said. "Ain't Hank grinning! The little beggar made a clean run right to the bottom."

On this second occasion Joe was more fortunate. He sat his shoes like a practised hand, and went hurtling down to within a few feet of his waiting comrades.

"You've come at last," grinned Hank, as Joe picked himself up and rose to an erect position. "Warn't it fair flyin'? Seemed to me as ef you was spreading your wings because you wasn't quite satisfied. But you ain't hurt, lad?"

"Not a bit; rather enjoyed it," sang out our hero.

"And ain't too much shook up? That sorter things kicks the breath outer a body."

"As fit as ever," grinned Joe, "and ready to continue. Where's the camp?"

"You're at the front door, as you might almost say," smiled the little hunter. "There it aer."

There it was indeed, almost nestling at the foot of the hill, and in any case within a few hundred yards. It took the little party but a few minutes to reach it.

"Will they have taken all or not?" asked Hank somewhat anxiously, as they came up to the place. "Ef so, it aer a bad lookout; ef not, why, things is beginning to move in our favour."

A deep-toned exclamation came from the Redskin, while his hawk-like face took on for one brief instant an appearance of sublime content.

"That's settled the matter," cried Hank. "You kin see as it aer all right, fer Beaver Jack stood to lose the hull of his pelts and the winter's work, which for him would be serious. He's seen that things aer all right."

"No take the pelts and the sleigh as they easy able to come back when they killed us," said Beaver Jack, his eyes twinkling.

"And so we'll take 'em," cried Hank. "But where? That do tease me more'n a trifle. Jest about here we ain't no better off than we was back up the hill, and men lyin' on the ridge above us could flick bullets into our camp every time. I ain't bad at some sorter conundrums, but here guess I've come to an end. Joe, boy, you are the youngest and brightest; what do we do?"

"Pack up at once, put all our things on Beaver Jack's sleigh, and make clear across the lake to that island," said our hero, promptly pointing across the smooth expanse of snow to where, nestling in the centre almost, was a prominence above which hung the heavily-weighted branches of a group of evergreens. "That'll be a fine castle," he said. "We've now grub with us, besides pots and pans; there'll be firewood yonder, and with that we'll be able to make ourselves comfortable. I'm for making for that island."

Hank gave a little exclamation, and struck himself violently on the chest as if in punishment for not having thought of the same movement, while the Redskin went to his sleigh, on which his store of pelts was still bound, and taking up the tow rope began to move away from the camp.

"It aer jest the very thing for us," observed Hank, with eagerness. "I war a thickhead too never to have thought of it. But lend a hand, Joe, and let's get the traps fixed and packed. Them critters ain't likely to be long now in coming."

Very rapidly but carefully they packed all their goods on Beaver Jack's sleigh, then, led by the Redskin, they stepped upon the snow-covered surface of the lake. And as they pushed their way across it the shouts of the enemy came to their ear, while presently they could be seen descending the hillside.

"They've seed what we're up to, and guess as they can't reach us afore we're at the island," said Hank. "So now they'll go back to collect their sleighs and dog teams. That'll give us time to breathe. We'll make our lean-to right off, and get a kettle of water boiling. A brew of hot tea won't come amiss after all this business."

They found, in fact, that cups of boiling hot tea, sweetened with some of the store of maple sugar which they had brought with them, was most reviving. It sent the blood surging through their bodies, and, had their courage been somewhat lacking, would even have restored that. But Joe and his friends had a deal of fight left in them yet. They hoped still to preserve their lives, and show these half-breeds who had so outrageously attacked them that matters were not all in their favour.

"We aer boxed in, more or less," said Hank, surveying his surroundings; "but they ain't much better off. The moment one o' the critters steps off on to the lake, we sees him. There'll be a moon to-night, and for a week almost, so night won't make much difference to it. Joe, I begin to think as this here island aer going to be the saving of us."

Whether or no that was to be the case had yet to be seen. It was fairly evident that the gallant little trio had a strenuous and exciting time before them.