CHAPTER XVIII.
AN ENCOUNTER WITH THE NATIVES.
Jack hastened to the store-room and found that the wily natives intheir soft-soled skin shoes had wrought great havoc there, while he,all unconsciously in the engine-room, was working without dreamingthat there were unwelcome visitors on board. The _Yukon Rover_ waswell stocked with food and there were settlements up the river wherethe raided stock could be replenished, but it annoyed the boy to thinkthat the plundering rascals had had such an easy time in abscondingwith what they had abstracted from the steamer's larder.
"It's a lesson to keep a sharp lookout," thought the boy to himself."In future we'll keep all bidarkas at long range unless they can givean account of themselves."
The boy went back to his work, but this time with a rifle beside him.He was still at his task when he heard voices.
"Cracky! It's those rascals coming back, I'll bet a doughnut," heexclaimed to himself excitedly.
With hands that shook a little, he picked up the rifle and prepared togive them a warm reception. As he was stepping out on deck, hecollided with a figure just entering the engine-room door.
"Stop right where you are or I'll fire!" he cried out in a loud tone.
"What's the matter with you, Jack, are you crazy?" cried a voice thathe instantly recognized as Tom's.
His relief was great, and as the hunting party, laden with threegeese, some ducks and shore birds, came into the deck-house,explanations ensued. It appeared that the hunting party had beenalmost as much alarmed as Jack, for they had heard the report of hisrifle and had hastened back at once without lingering at their sport.
Naturally Jack's tale of the occurrences during their absence arouseda good deal of indignation. Mr. Chillingworth, however, said he wasnot surprised. The Yukon Indians are great thieves, and it isnecessary to be on constant watch against them. He was astonished,though, at Jack's story of the dart from the _nogock_.
"These Indians don't usually resort to anything like that," he said."That old chief must be what the police in the Yukon country call a'bad one.' I suppose he saw that only a boy opposed him and his men,and he intended to give you a good scare."
"Well, he succeeded all right," declared Jack, with conviction, "but Iguess I managed to give him as good as he gave me. The way thosebidarkas shot around that bend was a caution."
"Do you think there is any chance of their coming back again?" askedTom. "Because if there is, we might give them a warm reception."
"I hardly think they'll return," said Mr. Dacre. "They were probablyon their way to St. Michaels. That raid on our store-room must havebeen a wind-fall for them."
"Hoot! I'd take a wind-fall oot of them if I had my way," gruntedSandy. "Can't we take the dinghy" (for the _Rover_ carried a smallboat), "and get after them?"
"They are probably miles away by this time," said Mr. Chillingworth."I guess the shot that Jack fired after them gave them considerable tothink about. I doubt if they'll be in a hurry to attack another boat."
Supper, cooked on a gasolene stove in a small galley by Tom and Jack,who were quite expert as cooks, was served in the large cabin whichdid duty as both living and dining room.
Jack announced that his engines were once more in A1 shape, but it wasdecided that as they were all tired it would be better to remainwhere they were for the night. By this time the boys had become quiteused to going to bed by daylight, although at first it had been a veryodd sensation. They were soon asleep, and their elders, afterdiscussing the prospects of the trip for some little time longer,followed the lads' example and sought their cabins. Before long the_Yukon Rover_ was wrapped in slumber and silence, only the swiftripple of the current, as it ran by, breaking the stillness.
It was Tom who first opened his eyes with the indefinable but distinctidea that something was wrong. It was almost dark, so he knew that itmust be after midnight. What the trouble he vaguely guessed at couldbe, he was at an utter loss to determine, but the feeling was sostrong that he slipped on some clothes and emerged on deck.
He looked about him for a minute and almost decided that he had beenthe victim of one of those transient impressions that often come tothose abruptly awakened from sleep.
But almost simultaneously with this idea the truth broke sharply uponhim like a thunderclap.
"Uncle!" he shouted. "Boys! Wake up! We are drifting down stream!"
The others were awake in an instant, and in all sorts of costumes theycrowded out on deck. Jack carried a rifle under the impression thatthey had been attacked.
"What's the matter?"
"Is it the natives again?"
"Are we attacked?"
These and half a dozen other questions assailed Tom's ears before hewas enabled to point out the true state of affairs.
"We are drifting rapidly down the stream," he said. "We must be farfrom where we tied up."
This was unquestionably the truth. The _Yukon Rover_ was not onlydrifting on the swift current, but was near the middle of the streamwhere the tide was more rapid than at the sides. In the deep twilight,which is the far northern night, they could see the low-lying banksslipping by like a moving panorama.
The profound stillness rendered the scene still more impressive as thealarmed party stood thunderstruck on the deck of the castaway steamer.
"What can have happened?" demanded Jack.
"Perhaps the mooring rope broke," suggested Sandy.
"Not likely. It was a brand new one of the best manilla," declared Mr.Dacre. "There is more in this than appears."
"The first thing to do is to get out an anchor before we drift down ona sand-bar," said Mr. Chillingworth.
"Yes, it's a miracle we haven't struck one already," agreed Mr. Dacre.
The boys hustled off to get overboard the heavy spare anchor that thedrifting steamer carried on her bow. But as the splash that announcedthat it was in the stream came to their ears and the rope began totauten, there was a heavy shock that almost threw them all off theirfeet.
"Let out more rope!" cried Tom, thinking that the sudden tautening ofthe anchor rope had caused the shock.
"No need to do that," said Mr. Dacre, "we are anchored hard and fast."
"Where?"
"On a sand-bar."
The Bungalow Boys Along the Yukon Page 18