Part 15 (1/2)
The words shot from him in hot excitement.
Rod did not reply. Slowly he drew a trembling finger over the map. The first word he encountered was unintelligible. Of the next he could only make out one letter, which gave him no clue. Evidently the map had been made with a different and less durable substance than that with which the names had been written. He followed down the first straight black line, and where this formed a junction with a wider crooked line were two words quite distinct:
”Second waterfall.”
Half an inch below this Rod could make out the letters T, D and L, widely scattered.
”That's the third waterfall,” he exclaimed eagerly.
At this point the crude lines of the diagram stopped, and immediately below, between the map and the three names, it was evident that there had been considerable writing. But not a word of it could the young hunters make out. That writing, without doubt, had given the key to the lost gold. Rod looked up, his face betraying the keenness of his disappointment. He knew that under his hand he held all that was left of the secret of a great treasure. But he was more baffled than ever.
Somewhere in this vast desolation there were three waterfalls, and somewhere near the third waterfall the Englishman and the two Frenchmen had found their gold. That was all he knew. He had not found a waterfall in the chasm; they had not discovered one in all their trapping and hunting excursions.
Wabi was looking down into his face in silent thought. Suddenly he reached out and seized the sheet of bark and examined it closely. As he looked there came a deeper flush in his face, his eyes brightened and he gave a cry of excitement.
”By George, I believe we can peel this!” he cried. ”See here, Muky!” He thrust the birch under the old Indian's eyes. Even Mukoki's hands were trembling.
”Birch-bark is made up of a good many layers, each as thin as the thinnest paper,” he explained to Rod as Mukoki continued his examination. ”If we can peel off that first layer, and then hold it up to the light, we shall be able to see the impression of every word that was ever made on it--even though they were written a hundred years ago!”
Mukoki had gone to the door, and now he turned, grinning exultantly.
”She peel!”
He showed them where he had stripped back a corner of the film-like layer. Then he sat down in the light, his head bent over, and for many minutes he worked at his tedious task while Wabi and Rod hung back in soundless suspense. Half an hour later Mukoki straightened himself, rose to his feet and held out the precious film to Rod.
As tenderly as though his own life depended upon its care, Rod held the piece of birch, now a silken, almost transparent sheet, between himself and the light. A cry welled up into his throat. It was repeated by Wabi.
And then there was silence--a silence broken only by their bated breaths and the excited thumpings of their hearts.
As though they had been written but yesterday, the mysterious words on the map were disclosed to their eyes. Where Rod had made out only three letters there were now plainly discernible the two words ”third waterfall,” and very near to these was the word ”cabin.” Below them were several lines, clearly impressed in the birch film. Slowly, his voice trembling, Rod read them to his companions.
”We, John Ball, Henri Langlois, and Peter Plante, having discovered gold at this fall, do hereby agree to joint partners.h.i.+p in the same, and do pledge ourselves to forget our past differences and work in mutual good will and honesty, so help us G.o.d. Signed,
”JOHN BALL, HENRI LANGLOIS, PETER PLANTE.”
At the very top of the map the impression of several other words caught Rod's eyes. They were more indistinct than any of the others, but one by one he made them out. A hot blurring film seemed to fall over his eyes and he felt as though his heart had suddenly come up into his throat.
Wabi's breath was burning against his cheek, and it was Wabi who spoke the words aloud.
”Cabin and head of chasm.”
Rod went back to the table and sat down, the precious bit of birch-bark under his hand. Mukoki, standing mute, had listened and heard, and was as if stunned by their discovery. But now his mind returned to the moose steak, and he placed it on the stove. Wabi stood with his hands in his pockets, and after a little he laughed a trembling, happy laugh.
”Well, Rod, you've found your mine. You are as good as rich!”
”You mean that we have found our mine,” corrected the white youth. ”We are three, and we just naturally fill the places of John Ball, Henri Langlois and Peter Plante. They are all dead. The gold is ours!”
Wabi had taken up the map.
”I can't see the slightest possibility of our not finding it,” he said.
”The directions are as plain as day. We follow the chasm, and somewhere in that chasm we come to a waterfall. A little beyond this the creek that runs through the gorge empties into a larger stream, and we follow this second creek or river until we come to the third fall. The cabin is there, and the gold can not be far away.”