Part 12 (1/2)

Paul posted himself opposite the most dangerous point and made pictures of the tossing boats and their bareheaded pilots as long as they were in sight.

Then came the laborious task of reloading the boats, but under Colonel Howell's direct attention, this operation now took far less than four days. Within ten hours' travel from the foot of the Rapids, the boats rounded a bend at three o'clock the next afternoon and came in sight of a lone cabin on the bare and rocky sh.o.r.e of the river.

”Look in the trees behind it,” exclaimed Colonel Howell.

Like a gallows, almost concealed behind a fringe of poplar trees, stood the familiar lines of an oil derrick.

”I'm sorry they haven't got a flag out,” remarked Colonel Howell, ”but that's the place. All there is of Fort McMurray is just beyond.”

CHAPTER X

PAUL AWAKENS TO THE SITUATION

At first Colonel Howell's camp appeared to be deserted, but as the boats made in toward the sh.o.r.e and the crew began shouting, two men appeared from the cabin. These were Ewen and Miller--Chandler was not in sight.

The new log cabin with its flat tar-paper roof, glistening with its many tin washers, and with a substantial looking chimney built against one end, had a satisfactory look. In addition, several large ricks of cordwood standing at the edge of the clearing gave sign that the men had not been idle during the spring. At the same time, there were many evidences of a lack of thrift to be seen in the debris left from the cabin building.

No arrangements had been made for a boat landing and Colonel Howell's canoe was lying carelessly against the steep bank. Both Norman and Roy felt somewhat disappointed. While neither was bothered with the romantic ideas usually attached to the woodland cabins of fiction, each had expected a smarter camp. Nor were they very favorably impressed with the two men who appeared on the bank. They were not exactly tidy in appearance and their figures and faces suggested that they had spent a winter of comparative ease among the colonel's stores.

”Where's the Englishman?” was Colonel Howell's salutation, as he and his friends sprang ash.o.r.e.

”Over at the settlement,” answered Ewen, as he jerked his thumb down the river. ”There wasn't much doing here and he went over there a few days ago to visit some friends.”

”A few days ago,” exclaimed the colonel, as his eyes made a survey of the littered-up clearing. ”He might have put in a little time clearin' out these stumps.”

”We just got through cuttin' the wood,” broke in Miller as he and Ewen shook hands with their boss, ”and we just got the finis.h.i.+n' touches on the cabin. We didn't know when to expect you.”

Colonel Howell, followed by his men and the new arrivals, scrambled up the bank and, with no great show of enthusiasm, began a close examination of the new cabin and its surroundings. Nor were the boys any more impressed with the structure, which, inside, showed very little ingenuity. It had been made for the use of four men--seven were going to crowd it. After Colonel Howell had inspected the derrick, he returned and seated himself on a stump.

”When's Chandler comin' back?” he asked abruptly. Without waiting for a reply, which neither of his men seemed able to give him, he added: ”One of you fellows had better take the canoe and go and get him this afternoon--that is, if he wants to come back.”

There was some irritation in his tone that showed everyone that things were not exactly to his liking.

”It's only two miles,” remarked Ewen showing some alacrity, ”and I'll go by the trail.”

When he had gone, Colonel Howell turned to Miller, whose unshaven and somewhat bloated face told that he had not lost any flesh during his stay at the camp.

”Miller,” he said, ”go down and take hold of these scows. We've got to get this stuff up here on the bank and under some protection. I don't want these Indians on my hands any longer than necessary. Keep 'em at it until midnight, if necessary, and then make up an outfit for 'em to-morrow and let 'em hit the trail.”

”What are you going to do with the boats?” asked Roy.

”We're going to use 'em to make a cabin big enough for our new family,”

answered the colonel, smiling perfunctorily. ”This one's all right for our cooking and eating, but it doesn't appeal to me as a bunk house. I think we'll add another room. The season's getting away from us and we can't afford to lose any time.”

The man Miller had already shown signs of great activity when Colonel Howell suddenly called him back.

”On second thought, Miller,” he said, rising and throwing off his coat, ”I think you'd better tackle the cabin first. There's a lot of truck in there that ought to be in a storehouse and it's got a kind o' musty smell. Open all the windows and clean out the place. We've got to sleep in there to-night. When you've done that, get that kitchen stuff and use some river water and sand on it. Looks like an Indian shack in the middle o' winter. Young men,” he went on, again forcing a smile, ”I reckon it's up to us to get this gang busy.”

There was nothing in this that discouraged Norman and Roy and even Paul seemed interested in the unloading of the boats. Before this was begun, however, Moosetooth spoke in an undertone to Colonel Howell and, shrugging his shoulders, the prospector waved his hand.