CHAPTER XX

THE VISION

It was not until they had practiced a week at the mock trail work that Clay decided they were in shape to tackle the real work of the trail. The week had wrought changes in them. It had been real work. Everything they had learned of the work from the old timers they had put into practice again and again until they had learned to do the thing with neatness and despatch. They were astonished at the miracle the week had wrought in themselves. Their bodies were stripped of every ounce of fat and new unknown muscles had sprung into notice while the old prominent ones had become as things of elastic steel. Their hunger was of the order of famished wolves and they grew to understand the look of knowing hunger in the eyes of their dogs as they wistfully watched them eat breakfast and supper, of which two meals the animals were not allowed to partake, but could only look on in wretched misery at their masters eating with such relish.

Before leaving Dawson the boys had cleared out the forehold and had filled it with a great store of dried salmon. Of this, they gave their dogs more than double the quantity usually given by dog drivers. But they gave it to them only at night, according to the iron law of the trail, whose motto was that a full dog travels slow. Their first real trip was to the nearest of the Indian villages which seemed to inclose the Catholic Mission of the Holy Cross in a kind of semi-circle. They started with the usual trail traveler's pack, containing only the things absolutely necessary, such as frying pan and a big kettle to cook in, a change of footgear and clothing for each, an axe and a fair amount of the staple food of the trail, beans, pork, coffee, flour and sugar. A smaller pack contained the supply of dried salmon for the dogs, and another of trading trinkets, while over all was strapped down tightly over the load a large square of waterproofed canvas, another of the Kid's suggestions. It being the first trip and a novelty, all were eager to go, but none liked to leave the _Rambler_ alone. For, although well protected from view, there was the possible chance that some traveler might stumble upon the tiny cove and relieve the _Rambler_ of some of her already diminishing stock of provisions. So it was decided that one should be left to guard the boat, that one to be decided by the drawing of straws. The short straw fell to Case to his intense disgust.

"Just my luck," he grumbled, "to be left behind on a day like this when the snow has just got a crust an elephant could not break through, and everything seems to promise the finest kind of weather. When I get a chance to go the snow will be five feet deep and we will have to pack trail every foot of the way right in the teeth of a sixty-mile gale."

What Case said about the conditions for traveling were true. They could hardly have selected a better time. The start was made long before daylight, Clay running side by side with the leader and striving to keep to the due south course by his pocket compass, but he soon realized that Buck sensed their destination and, like one on familiar ground, was picking his way toward a certain goal. Now and then he would swerve to one side to avoid a clump of trees or a steep gully, but always swinging back again and ever bearing back again to the south.

"No use trying to guide that dog," Clay panted as he fell back to join his companions who were half running to keep up with the flying sled. "He knows where we are going and the best way of getting there far better than I do myself. I don't believe there's another team like this in the world. Look how they run in perfect harmony with each other."

Their admiration for their team was further increased when, upon the rising of the sun, they looked back at the distant mountain from whose base they started only a few hours before. All the boys were feeling the tremendous pace at which they had traveled and Clay called a brief halt for them all to gain their breath. The dogs, obedient to his commands, dropped down in their traces and instantly curled up in the hard snow.

"Look how much trail wisdom they've got," said Alex in admiration. "They go like the wind, by they don't waste a second when they get a chance to rest."

"We have got to borrow a little of their wisdom," Clay observed. "If we don't we will all of us be tired to death and have to camp long before the day is over. We had better take turns in riding on the sled, one at a time. That will give each man thirty minutes of running and fifteen minutes to rest up in. We ought to be able to hold on at that."

Even under this liberal arrangement, the boys were well pleased when the whole team stopped and curled up in their traces, close beside a bunch of cottonwood trees.

"Get up! Push on there!" shouted Clay, surprised at the sudden action, but Buck only gave him a reproachful look.

Alex grinned with delight. "Don't disgust Buck right at the start by letting him know that you are a blamed chekako," he advised. "He knows that it's dinner time and that this is a mighty good place to cook with all the dead cottonwood lying around."

The boys fell to the work of getting dinner with the system of old timers. While Clay cut dead cottonwood, Ike built a fire and melted snow for coffee. Alex brought out a frozen sausage-like length of beans, ready cooked with a generous mixture of cubes of pork, from which he hacked short pieces and placed them into the frying pan to heat, continuing the operation until the pan was full. Then in a short time dinner was ready and the boys sat down to it with keen appetites. A short rest after, and they were off again. Before daylight ended, they swept around a high bluff into full sight of the village they sought. Buck, in his knowledge of the country, had brought them straight to their destination. Barking dogs and a crowd of natives met them at the village limits. The dogs' barking ceased at sight of Buck who, with hair raised and teeth bared, gave utterance to one low ominous growl at which the dogs in front shrank back silently, leaving a path through their midst for the sled. Down it Buck walked in state with never a glance to left or right, moving like a king before his subjects.

"He's grand," Clay exclaimed. "He's the Yukon Kid of the dog trails."

It was evident that the natives thought so too, for they crowded around with grunts of envy and admiration.

"Sell him?" queried one native, but Clay shook his head.

"No sell."

"Trade?"

"No trade for dogs. Trade for furs plenty. Got a pack full of wonderful things."

The crowd of Esquimaux greeted this announcement with grunts of satisfaction. No trader had come their way as yet and their igloos were crowded with furs of the finest. Would the strangers come and look and be convinced? But Clay declined the invitation. He had learned too much of the stuffiness and smells of the average Esquimau dwelling to care to enter one again. "No," he announced, "they would camp in the open. When the night fires were lit all who had fine furs could come and exchange them for many wonderful things."

The preparations for the night were simple and speedily made. While one cut wood, another put on a huge pot of bacon and beans to boil and the third cut poles and drove them down in the snow, then all three joined in stretching the big square canvas over the poles, bringing it down to the snow on one side and raising it at the side nearest the fire so the heat would radiate downwards.

The whole village gathered around the fire and watched the boys as they cooked and ate; they were of a far superior class to any the boys had yet seen, due, perhaps, to the efforts of the priests from the not far distant mission, who labored constantly to teach and help all within their reach. Nearly all had brought valuable furs with them and the trading was quickly concluded, for Clay frowned down all of Ike's attempts to drive long, close bargains and their customers departed well pleased at having received for their furs much more than they had intended to demand.

While the village was yet asleep the boys struck camp next morning and headed back for the _Rambler_, for they knew Case would worry until they returned. They reached the boat shortly after midday to find Case sitting in the cabin gloomily playing solitaire. He greeted them with joy, and, as they had not stopped for dinner on the trail, he flew around and got them a hasty lunch while he listened to the story of their trip. The first time he could do so unnoticed by Alex and Abe and Ike, he gave Clay a signal that he wanted to see him alone. Clay, quick to note the anxiety in his partner's face, quickly finished his dinner and turned to the others.

"Will you two clean up and pack away the furs when you get through?" he inquired. "Case and I want to take a hunt and see if we can not get a few squirrels or something else fresh to eat."

The two were quick to agree. Their feet and legs were aching from their long, hard run and they were thinking longingly, of a nice long rest in their bunks after the simple tasks were performed.

Taking the rifle and shot gun with them, Clay and Case made their way out on the ice.

"What's the matter, old chap?" Clay asked as soon as they were beyond the hearing of those on board the _Rambler_.

"First, I want you to keep your eye on that mountain," Case replied. "It's due to come at any minute now. I noted the time it came yesterday by my watch, and it is nearly it now."

Mystified, Clay gazed up at the lofty mountain. Being so early in the winter and still in the midst of the windy season, the mountain was free from snow, save where it nestled in the pockets and crevices, and the main part of it lay naked and exposed to the eye. It was like a huge cake packed layer after layer, each layer getting smalled and smaller until the apex was hidden in eternal snows. Each layer was made of a different strata of which the mountain was composed. Here was a dull-red streak indicating the presence of iron ore, above it the dull grey of granite, and below that a curious blend of green. As Clay stood looking up, the miracle happened. The low slanting sun lingered on the mountain's face for a minute and it became as a thing transformed, all its varying hues stood out blended softly together by the sun's lingering rays. Pink, red, lavender and green blended for a moment in one harmonious whole, then the sun's rays passed on and--the vision of beauty was gone.

Clay drew in a breath of keenest pleasure. "Glorious," he exclaimed.

"Don't it suggest anything to you?" questioned Case.

"A great big, beautiful rainbow seen close to, of course," Clay replied promptly.

"Nothing more?" Case suggested.

Clay thought for a moment. "I've got it," he suddenly exclaimed. "That mountain marks the bend in the river, and that rainbow furnishes the rest. It's Rainbow Bend, the place Ike's uncle lives. He must have a camp in the next cove. Funny that we should be neighbors so long and never know it."

"I wouldn't say anything to Ike about it, not just now at any rate," Clay said slowly. "I--well, I did a little exploring myself after I saw that rainbow yesterday and I found a little cabin of logs in that next cove. The door was open a bit and the cabin was partly full of snow, but in one corner, back behind the door, was a sight that made me hustle out into the open air with my legs shaking a bit, I guess, Clay," and the lad's voice lowered. "It was the skeleton of a man, a big man with bent shoulders. His skull was smashed to pieces and an axe lay close by with some grayish hairs sticking to it."

Clay turned back for the _Rambler_. "Let's be getting back," he said quietly, "we will slip away tomorrow and bury the body and say nothing to the boys until winter is over. This country is no place to brood in over anything."

"But I haven't told you the worst yet, Clay," Case blurted out. "Our potatoes are all gone, and part of our provisions also."

Clay stopped in his tracks, his face paling. This was the last straw. "When did it happen. Who did it?" he said, bewilderedly.

"Goodness knows," Case said despairingly. "It may have happened a week ago. You see we have been light on the potatoes because we did not have more than enough to last until spring anyway. We have kept a supply in the kitchen locker so as not to have to burrow around in the hold for them every time we wanted a mess. I guess I was the last one to fill the locker, about a week ago. I went to fill it again yesterday but could only find a handful scattered in the hold. Part of our flour, beans and bacon is gone too."

"It must have been done when we were getting in that week of practice work with the snow shoes and team," said Clay, thoughtfully. "There were hours at a time when all of us would be out of sight of the _Rambler_. It strikes me something like this," he continued, after another pause. "It looks like the work of those two wretches. Bill and Jud, from beginning to end. They knew Ike's uncle well enough so that he trusted them to carry a letter to Ike. He may have let out a hint to them that he had found something of value. Likely they demanded to have a share in it. A quarrel arose over it and the old man was killed without their learning his secret. But they had the letter to Ike. They opened it but apparently could not make out its meaning. They tore off a corner of it, however, so that Ike could not make out its meaning either, without their help. Then they came to the States and delivered it to Ike. We all know how they pestered Ike all winter and in the end how they tried to kill or rob him. When we get up here, we find them here ahead of us and ready to do us harm at the first opportunity. They know of Rainbow Bend. They likely reasoned that Ike knew its whereabouts too and would land here sooner or later and they proposed to be not far off when he came. We know from what the Kid said that they are up the river somewhere. I believe that it is they who have stolen our stuff. I believe that their main plan is to get Ike and torture him until he reveals the secret in his uncle's letter. Well, there is a lot of theory in what I've been saying, but it fits in nicely with the facts."

"What are we going to do?" asked Case hopelessly.

"Do," said Clay, straightening up. "We are going to face it like men. Trust in the Lord, and do our best."

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