CHAPTER XI.

LUCKY BRINGS BACK THE "BACON."

Although Bob had tried hard to conceal his fears he had been much worried since Lucky had left them. To be sure he had unbounded confidence in the Indian, but he also realized that he was not infallible and he had little doubt regarding the character of the Eskimo who had stolen their food. Any man who would do a thing of that sort would not be likely to hesitate at even murder were his safety threatened. Should anything happen to prevent his return they would be in a pretty desperate situation especially now that Jack was helpless.

These thoughts filled his mind as he started off, but he whistled a merry tune until he knew he was out of hearing.

"I do hope he'll be back when I return," he said half aloud.

He found the packs of meat as he had left them and decided to leave one where it was as he was, in spite of his assurance in Jack's presence, pretty tired and fifty pounds was about all he cared to lug back under the circumstances.

"The rest'll be safe enough," he thought as he slung the pack to his back.

Although it was not yet three o'clock when he stumbled into camp, tired through and through, darkness had fallen. He had started whistling as soon as he knew that he was in hearing distance and Jack's voice, as he shouted a welcome, assured him that all was well so far as he was concerned.

"Lucky's not back yet," he said as he swung the pack to the ground and entered the tepee.

"Not yet."

"Oh, well, he's likely to come any minute now," he said trying to speak cheerfully. "How's the foot?"

"The patient is doing as well as could be expected."

"Hurt much?"

"Not much. But you must be about played out."

"Not so you'd notice it. Think you can masticate a good juicy steak?"

"Lead me to it, or rather lead it to me."

There was still a good bed of coals and in a very few minutes Bob had a huge steak sizzling in the frying pan.

"Thank goodness he didn't take both bags of salt," he said to himself as he found a small sack of the precious material which the thief had overlooked. "Now, if he'd only left us a few spuds it wouldn't be so bad, but perhaps Lucky'll be back with them by the time the steak's ready."

But he was not and they had to eat it straight, as Jack put it. However hunger is an excellent sauce and the thick juicy steak, cooked to a turn, went down with no urging.

"Best thing I ever tasted," Jack declared after he had eaten all he could manage.

"Not half bad, but I do wish Lucky'd come."

"If wishes were horses, you know," Jack quoted.

"Yes, I know. But he ought to be getting along."

Although Jack objected strenuously Bob insisted on giving the ankle another hot water treatment and it was close to six o'clock when he had finished, and the Indian had not returned.

"Something's gone wrong with Lucky," Jack declared.

"I hardly think so. You see, there's no telling how far he had to chase him and you know Lucky."

"And we don't know that Eskimo. There's the rub."

"But--"

"Honest Injun, now, aren't you worried?"

"Sure I am, but I honestly think he'll come back all right."

"How long do you think this old ankle will lay me up?"

"A week maybe."

"A week, your grandmother's eye. Bet you I walk on it tomorrow."

"Maybe, but I doubt it."

During the past half hour Bob had been conscious that the wind was rising steadily and the fact caused him no little uneasiness. If they should have another blizzard before the Indian returned it would make their lot doubly hard. As he went outside to replenish the fire he cast an anxious eye upward and his fears were increased when he was unable to see any stars.

"I believe it's going to snow again," he muttered as he threw a big log on the fire.

As he again looked up a flake of snow struck his face and he turned back and entered the tepee with a sinking heart.

"How's the weather?" Jack asked.

"Not so good."

"Snowing?"

"Starting a bit."

"I thought that wind sounded like it."

"Perhaps it won't amount to anything."

"Storms usually don't up here," Jack said sarcastically.

"But this one may be an exception."

"Maybe. But, honest Injun, Bob, we're in rather a bad fix, don't you think?"

"Bad, but not desperate. We've got food enough, thanks to that buck, to last a good while so we won't starve and, thank goodness, we had sense enough to keep our ammunition in the tepee so he didn't get away with that. I don't see that we're in any great danger."

"Well, you'd better put that light out. All the oil we have left is in those two lanterns."

Bob blew out the light and for a long time they sat in the darkness and talked. The temperature had risen during the past few hours and the heat reflected from the fire, which Bob kept going, made it very comfortable in the snug tepee. Each did his best to appear cheerful but each knew that the other was far more anxious that he let on. While they knew that they were in no great danger the thought that their friend might be lying dead or wounded somewhere out in the storm made the situation almost unbearable. Several times Bob had been out to replenish the fire and each time he reported that it was snowing. To be sure the storm had not as yet reached the height of a blizzard, but each time he went out he realized that the wind was stronger and the snow was coming down faster.

"It's ten o'clock," he announced. "Shall we hit the hay?"

"Might's well I reckon. He won't be back tonight."

Bob lit the lantern and helped Jack get into his sleeping bag. Then he went out and fixed the fire so that it would last for several hours.

"It's going to be a blizzard all right," he muttered as he crept back into the tepee and into his sleeping bag.

He blew out the light and for several moments there was silence and each boy knew that the other was in communication with Him who is conscious of the sparrow's fall.

Although very tired it was long before Bob slept. Over and over again he asked himself what could have happened to Lucky, and as often came the thought that it must have been something very serious or he would have returned. He could tell by the sound of Jack's breathing that he was asleep and he was glad. That the storm was increasing in violence he knew and the knowledge that it might last for days added to his worry. Finally he was almost off when the faint, but unmistakable howl of a wolf, far off on the mountain side, brought him wide awake.

"One would think we had trouble enough without that," he thought.

But second thought convinced him that they really had little to fear from wolves. The fire would keep them away and even though they should brave that they had their guns and plenty of ammunition. So he put that thought from his mind and soon was asleep. How long he slept he did not know, but it must have been several hours for he could not see the reflection from the fire as he reached out and pulled aside a branch from one of the thick boughs. The wind was howling with almost demoniacal fury and, as he listened a moment, above the noise of the storm came the dismal howl of a wolf and he knew that the animal must be near.

"Was that a wolf?" Jack cried as he caught hold of Bob's arm.

"Guess so."

"What time is it?"

"Five o'clock," Bob told him after a glance at the luminous dial of his wrist watch.

"Reckon the fire's about out, isn't it?"

"Must be. I'll go out and build it up."

"Think its safe?" Jack asked as another howl reached their ears.

"Sure. They're not that near and I'll take my gun."

"But--"

But Bob was already out of his bag and creeping from the tepee and what Jack said was lost in the fury of the storm. As soon as he was on his feet he saw that only a small bed of coals remained of the fire.

"And the snow would have put them out if it wasn't for the protection of that cliff," he thought as he hurried to where they had piled the supply of wood. "I'll have to get in some more wood tomorrow whatever happens," he muttered as he noted the small amount left.

The fire was so low that it took him some little time to get it to blazing again, but he finally accomplished it with the aid of some light stuff and had turned to get more when an angry snarl caused him to glance over the fire. There, about thirty feet from where he stood, but plainly visible in the light of the fire, was the largest wolf he had ever seen. It was evident that the great beast feared the blaze and dared not approach nearer, but it was also clear that it was loath to retreat. So it stood there baring its cruel fangs and uttering snarl after snarl.

Bob had stood his rifle against a tree only three or four feet from where he was and in another instant it was in his hand and he was pressing the trigger. Had it been daylight it would have been an easy shot but the flickering fire must have disturbed his aim for the wolf, with an angry snarl, either of rage or pain, he was not sure which, turned and bounded off into the forest.

"Missed him," Bob groaned in disgust.

"Did you get him?"

He barely caught the words.

"No, I missed him, but he's gone."

"Hurry up, he may be back."

"There's no danger. I'll be in in a minute."

But it was some time before he had the fire going to his satisfaction and he would not leave it before. He could hear, now and then, the snarl or howl of the beasts and knew that there must be quite a number of them around but, although he kept close watch, he saw no more and, finally, he crept back into the tepee.

"Many of them?" Jack asked anxiously.

"There's a few, but the fire'll keep them off."

"How'd you miss?"

"Reckon the fire threw my aim off. It was a good shot."

"Didn't you hit him at all?"

"I don't know. He sounded as though he was kinder disappointed."

"Probably had his mind made up for a good meal," Jack chuckled.

"Well, he isn't going to get it off us," Bob assured him.

"You go to sleep and I'll wake you if there's any need."

"What's the matter with the other way around?"

"No, you need it and I don't. You've been doing all the work and may have to do it all for a day or two longer if this bum ankle of mine gets to cutting up."

"How does it feel?"

"Pretty good. But will you do as I say?"

"I would if I could, but the sleep's all knocked out of me and I couldn't go to sleep if my life depended on it."

"All right then, we'll talk."

"You'd better sleep."

"Couldn't do it."

"You mean it?"

"Sure do. I'm not a bit sleepy."

"All right, I'll be glad of your company."

"How's the storm?"

"It's still snowing."

"Hard as ever?"

"I'm afraid so but, to tell the truth, I didn't pay much attention to it."

"It doesn't seem to be blowing quite so hard."

When Bob's watch told him it was seven o'clock he declared that he was going to get breakfast wolves or no wolves.

"I haven't heard them for the last half hour and they've probably gone," he told Jack.

The wind was still blowing a gale and the snow was driving with unbated fury outside, but within the fringe of trees it was not so bad and, after he had replenished the fire with almost the last of the wood, he got the meat from where he had hung it in a tree and cut off two thick steaks. Then he melted some snow and mixed up a batch of flapjacks with the water as the condensed milk was all gone.

"Venison steak and flapjacks," he announced a half hour later as he brought the food in to Jade. "What more could you want?"

"A cup of coffee."

"That would go good, but we'll have to make out without it this morning, I reckon."

After they had eaten, Bob made an examination of the injured ankle and was gratified to find that the swelling had nearly vanished.

"Is it very sore?" he asked.

"Not so very. Let's see if I can stand on it."

"Better wait a bit."

"But--"

"No buts. You'll only injure it if you tax it now."

Jack knew that Bob was speaking the truth and did not press the point.

"Don't you think, Bob, that you ought to go hunt for Lucky?" he asked a little later.

"And leave you here?"

"I'd be all right."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"But the wolves have gone and they're not likely to return very soon."

"Well, I've got to get some more wood in first anyhow, so we won't decide till that's done and perhaps he'll be back then."

The sun would not be up for another two hours or more, but it was not so dark that he felt obliged to wait. But once outside the fringe of trees where the full strength of the storm struck him, he doubted his ability to accomplish his purpose. But he knew that there was plenty of dead wood where they had been working before and it was only a short distance away. At every step he sank nearly to his waist and, before he had gone twenty feet, he decided he had better go back and put on his snow-shoes. Fortunately the wind was directly in his face and he knew that, although it took about all his strength to make headway against it, it would be of great help when it came to dragging the wood back.

"I'd never be able to drag much of a stick against this wind," he muttered.

He remembered a large spruce which had fallen a little to the right of where they had obtained the wood before and which they had not touched and he felt sure that, could he but find it, he could get enough to at least last through the day and the next night.

He located the tree without much trouble and was glad to see that the snow was not quite up to the trunk. This made it comparatively easy to chop off the thick branches and he set to work after standing his rifle, which he had not dared to leave behind, against the butt of the tree. He forced himself to work with exceeding care as he well knew the danger of a slip of the axe under the circumstances and should he cut himself they would be in a plight ten times more serious than at present. When he judged that he had cut as much as he could drag he hastened the butts of the branches together with a piece of rope and, picking up his rifle, started back. It was only a little over a hundred feet back to the fire, but he was all but winded by the time he got there with his load.

"Coming along fine," he shouted sticking his head into the tepee before starting back for a second load.

"How's the storm?" Jack asked.

"Still humming."

"No sign of a let up?"

"Not yet."

While working Bob had been trying to make up his mind what he ought to do. Lucky was undoubtedly in trouble and he felt that he ought to go to his aid in case he could find him. Then, on the other hand, was his duty to his brother. Would it be safe to leave him in his present condition? Suppose the wolves should come back while he was gone and make an attack on him. He shuddered as he thought what might result in case he was not able to keep them off. Then again, suppose something should happen to him and he be unable to get back. Jack would surely die and again a shudder ran through him. It was a situation which sorely taxed his mind, and he was unable to decide where his duty lay.

He had dragged in his third load and was back at the tree and about to start cutting again when he heard a sound which sent the blood racing through his body. At first he thought it was a wolf and then, as it came again, he knew he had been mistaken.

"That's Lightning, or I'm a Dutchman," he cried as he put his hands up to his mouth and gave a loud yell.

The yell was answered almost at once in the welcome tones of Lucky's voice and for an instant Bob raised his eyes and thanked God. Then, grabbing up his rifle, he hastened back and burst through the fringe of trees just as the dog team swept around the farther end.

"Thank God," he cried and the next minute he was hugging the Indian as though he never intended to let him go.

"Whar Jack?" the Indian asked as soon as he could speak.

"I'm in here," Jack called out.

"He sprained his ankle yesterday," Bob explained.

"Dat bad, but I tank Le Bon Dieu you safe."

By this time he was inside the tepee where he received a welcome fully as warm as Bob's.

"Did you get the stuff?" Jack asked after a bit.

"Oui, I geet heem."

"But what made you gone so long?"

"That can wait, Jack," Bob broke in. "Can't you see he's tired and hungry?" Then, turning to the Indian, he said: "Now you lie down here in your bag and I'll see to the dogs and get you something to eat."

But the Indian would not hear to it insisting that he was all right although he acknowledged that he was pretty hungry.

"Then you see to the dogs and I'll get you something to eat. We got a buck yesterday and I reckon you can get outside a good sized steak."

"Oui, I eat heem ver' quick."

Bob had the steak cooking in almost no time and Lucky declared that it was the best thing he had ever eaten. As soon as he had finished they went inside the tepee where Jack was waiting impatiently.

"Thought you'd never come," he growled.

"Now, Lucky, tell us all about it."

"Oui, Injun tell. Injun geet up with heem leetle past noon. Heem goin' ver' fast, but Injun's dog heem go faster, oui. Heem no hear me till I geet most up to heem. Then heem see an' mak' to draw gun, but Injun have gun out an' Injun tell heem hand up or heem geet keel queek.

"And I'll bet he put 'em up in a hurry," Jack said as Lucky paused.

"Oui, heem put um up."

"Then what?" Bob asked as he paused again.

"Injun come close an' mak' heem put stuff back on sled. Heem ver' mad' an' watch ver' close chance to geet--what you call um--drop, but heem no geet."

"I'll bet he didn't."

"Keep still and let him tell the story," Bob ordered.

"When heem stuff all put on my sled Injun tell heem start off ver' queek. Tell heem no look back an heem ver' glad go heem see heem no geet drop on Injun. Injun watch heem till heem geet long ways off an' then Injun turn heem dog around an' we start back."

"What time was that?" Bob asked.

"Now, who's interrupting?" Jack demanded.

"Eet 'bout ein o'clock. All go bon till we geet most half way back an' then that Slack dog heem geet seek, ver' seek, an' we have stop. Injun no know what matter with dog. Heem act like heem got belly ache ver' bad. Got no medicine so have to rub heem belly ver' long time an' tink mebby heem goin' die. Injun no want dog die, dey too bon dog. So keep on rubbin' an' when eet begin geet dark dog begin geet better, but heem still some seek. So put heem on sled an' start, but een leetle while Pete dog heem geet seek and have stop rub heem long time. When heem geet better have go ver' slow an' begin snow, have go slow some more. No geet here till leetle while ago. But Injun geet here."

"You bet you did," Jack burst out.

"How ankle? Heem ver' bad?"

"It's coming along fine now. Reckon I can walk on it tomorrow."

"I'm not so sure about that," Bob said with a shake of his head.

"How long's this storm going to last, Lucky?" Jack asked.

"No can tell. Mebby not ver' long."

"I don't see why it doesn't make a continuous performance of it and be done with it. Then one would know what to expect," Jack growled.

"Don't be pessimistic," Bob advised. "Now that Lucky's back we can stand a little snow, I reckon."

"A little, yes, but who said anything about a little?"

"Well, a lot then."

"That's a lot better."

"You no walk on that foot tomorrow I tink."

"But I could ride for awhile and we could go slow."

"Mebby, eef snow not too mooch. We see mornin' heem come."

It seemed good to have a variety of food once more and they made a bit of a feast of the dinner opening a number of things which they had been saving for some special occasion. In the short afternoon they cut some more wood and dragged it in and as darkness was falling the storm showed signs of breaking.

"Eet be bon day tomorrow," Lucky announced while they were eating supper.

"Then we'll be off," Jack declared.

"Mebby, see how um foot be in morning."