Part 14 (1/2)

With a profound sense of relief the young hunter hurried along the base of the mountain, keeping well within its shelter so that eyes that might be spying from above could not see his movements. He now felt no fear of danger. The stranger's flight up the cleft in the chasm wall and his careful attempts to conceal his trail among the rocks a.s.sured Rod that he had no designs upon his life. His chief purpose had seemed to be to keep secret his own presence in the gorge, and this fact in itself added to the mystification of the white youth. For a long time he had been secretly puzzled, and had evolved certain ideas of his own because of the movements of the Woongas. Contrary to the opinions of Mukoki and Wabigoon, he believed that the red outlaws were perfectly conscious of their presence in the dip. From the first their actions had been unaccountable, but not once had one of their snow-shoe trails crossed their trap-lines.

Was this fact in itself not significant? Rod was of a contemplative theoretical turn of mind, one of those wide-awake, interesting young fellows who find food for conjecture in almost every incident that occurs, and his suspicions were now aroused to an unusual pitch. A chief fault, however, was that he kept most of his suspicions to himself, for he believed that Mukoki and Wabigoon, born and taught in the life of the wilderness, were infallible in their knowledge of the ways and the laws and the perils of the world they were in.

CHAPTER XII

THE SECRET OF THE SKELETON'S HAND

A little before noon Rod arrived at the top of the hill from which he could look down on their camp. He was filled with pleasurable antic.i.p.ation, and with an unbounded swelling satisfaction that caused him to smile as he proceeded into the dip. He had found a fortune in the mysterious chasm. The burden of the silver fox upon his shoulders was a most pleasing reminder of that, and he pictured the moment when the good-natured raillery of Mukoki and Wabigoon would be suddenly turned into astonishment and joy.

As he approached the cabin the young hunter tried to appear disgusted and half sick, and his effort was not bad in spite of his decided inclination to laugh. Wabi met him in the doorway, grinning broadly, and Mukoki greeted him with a throatful of his inimitable chuckles.

”Aha, here's Rod with a packful of gold!” cried the young Indian, striking an expectant att.i.tude. ”Will you let us see the treasure?” In spite of his banter there was gladness in his face at Rod's arrival.

The youth threw off his pack with a spiritless effort and flopped into a chair as though in the last stage of exhaustion.

”You'll have to undo the pack,” he replied. ”I'm too tired and hungry.”

Wabi's manner changed at once to one of real sympathy.

”I'll bet you're tired, Rod, and half starved. We'll have dinner in a hurry. Ho, Muky, put on the steak, will you?”

There followed a rattle of kettles and tin pans and the Indian youth gave Rod a glad slap on the back as he hurried to the table. He was evidently in high spirits, and burst into a s.n.a.t.c.h of song as he cut up a loaf of bread.

”I'm tickled to see you back,” he admitted, ”for I was getting a little bit nervous. We had splendid luck on our lines yesterday. Brought in another 'cross' and three mink. Did you see anything?”

”Aren't you going to look in the pack?”

Wabi turned and gazed at his companion with a half-curious hesitating smile.

”Anything in it?” he asked suspiciously.

”See here, boys,” cried Rod, forgetting himself in his suppressed enthusiasm. ”I said there was a treasure in that chasm, and there was. I found it. You are welcome to look into that pack if you wis.h.!.+”

Wabi dropped the knife with which he was cutting the bread and went to the pack. He touched it with the toe of his boot, lifted it in his hands, and glanced at Rod again.

”It isn't a joke?” he asked.

”No.”

Rod turned his back upon the scene and began to take off his coat as coolly as though it were the commonest thing in the world for him to bring silver foxes into camp. Only when Wabi gave a suppressed yell did he turn about, and then he found the Indian standing erect and holding out the silver to the astonished gaze of Mukoki.

”Is it a good one?” he asked.

”A beauty!” gasped Wabi.

Mukoki had taken the animal and was examining it with the critical eyes of a connoisseur.

”Ver' fine!” he said. ”At Post heem worth fi' hundred dollars--at Montreal t'ree hundred more!”

Wabi strode across the cabin and thrust out his hand.