by Farley Mowat
Suddenly Awasin stepped back and stood with his head cocked toward the south, a look of perplexity on his face.
“Stop it now!” he shouted. “Stop that! Be quiet! Listen! What is that noise?”
The urgency in his voice reached the fighters. Their struggles ceased and they sat up. Peetyuk’s face was streaming with blood from a cut on his cheek. For a moment no one moved, then Jamie yelled: “The dogs! Get the dogs and sleds! We’ve got to hide! Hurry up for heaven’s sake! That’s the engine of a plane!”
CHAPTER 5
Flight to the North
THE DOGS HAD NOT BEEN UNHITCHED and it was only the work of moments for the three frightened boys to leap to their teams and guide them into the thick fringe of black spruce which stood only a few yards back from the frozen river. The fire was already out, leaving no tell-tale smoke to mark the stopping place, but Awasin, nevertheless, rushed back from the woods to kick snow over the black spot where it had burned. He had barely regained the shelter of the woods when the low-pitched whine which had first caught his attention, and which had been rapidly swelling in volume, became a deep-throated roar.
Crouched beside their dogs, the boys peered fearfully up through the branches as a ski-equipped, single-engine Norseman plane thundered over them at an altitude of no more than three hundred feet. The plane seemed so close Jamie imagined he could feel the eyes of its occupants looking straight down at him, and involuntarily he hid his face and crouched still lower in the snow. As he did so he remembered, with a sickening sense of panic, that while the sleds themselves were hidden their tracks were not.
The roar of the plane faded rapidly away, but when Jamie spoke it was in a whisper.
“They’ll see our tracks. They’ll see them and come back! We’re caught…we’ll never get away…”
Peetyuk was sitting back on his haunches, absently rubbing the blood off his cheek. He did not seem to have heard Jamie at all. His eyes, wide with wonder, were fixed on the pallid blue sky fretted with the tops of ragged spruces, where the plane had disappeared. This was the first plane he had ever seen and for the moment he was speechless with amazement: But Awasin, though he too had never seen a plane before, was as alert and quick as ever.
“I do not think so, Jamie. How can they tell which way the tracks lead? And how can they tell they are ours? But in case they do come back we must not stay near the river where the plane can land.”
The calm voice of his friend washed away Jamie’s panic.
“Come on then, let’s get moving quick.”
Awasin got to his feet and began to untangle his dog’s traces, which had become hopelessly snarled during the wild rush for cover.
“The plane must have come to Macnair Lake first,” he said thoughtfully. “Then it would have gone to my people’s camp. My people would have said nothing of where we were. This is a big country, Jamie, and unless someone has talked about us to them they can only search like blind ones. But we cannot go to Thanout Lake now. The plane will probably stop there again on its way back. I think we must return to Kasmere House. If the plane is waiting for us there we will see it in good time, for it is clear weather and there will be a moon.”
Peetyuk roused himself from his trance of wonder.
“If they make trouble with Angeline, I kill them all!” he said, and from the tone of his voice there was no doubt that he meant it.
Jamie gave him a sharp look. “Stop worrying about her, Peetyuk. They won’t hurt her. Look, we’ve got big trouble. I’m sorry about the fight. I never really meant what I said…it’s just that I was nervous about things. Let’s forget it. Okay, Pete?”
Peetyuk beamed. “I forget quick. Now we friends again. Much better we be friends.”
The tangle of spruce along the riverbank was not very broad, and half an hour later the boys emerged from it into fairly open country, studded with jackpines, where they could make good progress over the deep but firmly crusted snow. They swung north, paralleling the river and the east shore of Kasmere Lake. By late afternoon they were only two or three miles from Kasmere House.
Leaving Jamie and Peetyuk with the dogs, Awasin went on alone to the shore of the lake, moving cautiously so that the tracks of his snowshoes would never cross open ground. In an hour he was back with his waiting friends.
“There is no airplane and I could see no tracks on the lake to show it had landed. But there is no smoke from the chimney either, and I saw no sign of Angeline.”
Peetyuk was on his feet in an instant, but Jamie caught his arm.
“Don’t be crazy, Pete. Probably she saw the plane or heard it and put out the stove so the police wouldn’t see the smoke. Now listen, you two. We’ll take the dogs to the south side of the hill and tether them in the woods. That way they’ll be ready if we have to get out in a hurry. Then we can sneak up to the cabin and see what’s happened.”
It took only a few minutes to circle around the hill and tether the dogs. The boys climbed cautiously toward the cabin. When they were only a few yards from it Awasin whistled softly, but there was no answer and no sign of life. Jamie advanced to the side wall and peered in through the window.
“Nobody here,” he said in astonishment. “Nobody at all. Angeline’s gone.”
Abandoning all caution, they ran around to the door. It was barred and nailed shut. Deeply puzzled and not a little frightened, they pried off the bar and pushed inside.
The cabin was clean and tidy—but deserted. Furthermore, and despite a strong and acrid smell of woodsmoke, it looked as if it had been deserted for days or weeks. Completely bewildered, the three boys poked through the various rooms and discovered that all their travel gear and supplies had vanished. The cabin was now almost as bare and empty as when they had first arrived at it weeks earlier. All of them felt a prickling of their scalps as they stood in the silent, empty house.
“I don’t understand,” Jamie said in a low voice. “How could Angeline and all our stuff just vanish like this? There’s no sign of a fuss. It’s like the place just hasn’t been lived in for a dog’s age…”
Peetyuk started for the door, his rifle in his hand and his face dark with fear and anger. “I not know what happen, but I find out!” he cried.
Awasin stepped in front of him but Peetyuk shoved him to one side. At that instant there came a noise which paralyzed the three of them. It was the ghostly sound of muffled laughter.
Jamie spun on his heel as if he had been shot, and there, with her nose pressed tight against the glass of the back window, and staring in at the boys with mischievous eyes, was Angeline.
Her story, when she got a chance to tell it, was simple enough. She had been outside cutting wood when she heard the unfamiliar roar of the Norseman’s engine. Moments later she had seen the red and silver plane appear above the distant mouth of the Kasmere River. Running inside she had flung open the stove, raked the burning logs out onto the floor and doused them with water, thereby filling the cabin with smoke and steam and nearly suffocating herself. Coughing and gasping, she had grabbed her snowshoes and slipped outside again, intending to run into the bush and circle until she could safely pick up the boys’ trail on the river ice and follow them. But when she came out she saw that the plane had made a turn and was disappearing into the northwest in the direction of the Chipeweyan camp.
Immediately Angeline changed her plans. There was a small hand-sled outside the cabin. Working with the fury of desperation, she began packing the boys’ and her own belongings, throwing them on the sled, and hauling them down the slope into the woods on the north side of the hill. When she finished that task she swept and cleaned the cabin, doing everything she could to make it appear that it had not been lived in for a long time. Then she took a birch broom and smoothed the snow around the cabin to remove her own tracks. She descended to the woods and began laboriously hauling the equipment and supplies deeper into the bush to the north. She slaved at her task all that long afternoon until she had moved the gear to a cache nearly two miles distant. She cov
ered this cache with spruce boughs, then she returned to the hill and hid herself where she could watch the front of the cabin. By this time she was utterly exhausted, and without meaning to she dozed off, wrapped in her caribou-skin robe.
She woke to the sound of the cabin door being pried open. Not sure who the new arrivals were, she crept cautiously to the edge of the woods where she saw and recognized the dogs. Relieved as she was to know that the boys were safe, she had not been able to resist the impulse to sneak up and surprise them.
Awasin looked at her affectionately when she had finished her story. “Our father spoke the truth,” he said. “You are a good girl, and very smart.”
Beaming with unconcealed admiration, Peetyuk grabbed the girl by the arm and spun her around so they both faced Jamie. “Very good friend, this!” he shouted. “Now we all very good friends, yes, Jamie?”
Jamie could not help smiling. “Sure, Pete. And Awasin’s right; you’re a smart girl, Angeline. If the plane comes here now they’ll never know where we’ve gone or even if we were ever here.” The smile vanished suddenly. “Angeline, do you think they saw the smoke before they turned?”
“I cannot tell, Jamie. There was a big fire to heat the washing water, and the cabin stands high. But the smoke did not last long. It was soon all inside the house, and inside me.”
“They could have seen it, though,” Awasin said thoughtfully. “We had better get away from here, I think.”
“No need to panic,” Jamie replied. “Those kind of planes don’t fly at night and it’s already dusk. Let’s get our robes and some grub off the sled. We’ll have a feed and make some plans.”
Glowing under the unaccustomed praise from Jamie, and feeling proud of her own competence and happy in the results of it, Angeline hurried to light a fire—a small one of clear, dry wood. Meanwhile, the boys brought in their things. It was a cold night and the warmth of the cabin was pleasant, but even after they had eaten, and even though the room was dark (for they had thought it unwise to show a light), none of them felt the least bit sleepy. They were too much on edge to rest, and there was too much to talk about. However, although they discussed their situation for a couple of hours, they were unable to agree on any definite plan of action. Two things seemed certain—they could not remain at Kasmere House after daylight came. Nor could they go to Thanout Lake, at least until they knew for certain that the plane had left the country. Peetyuk was of the opinion that they should start north for the Barrenlands at once.
“Why we wait? Have all we need. With our good dogs we go quick. Get to Eskimo country before ice begin to melt. Police not find us then even he got one hundred planes.”
Awasin was against the idea.
“It is no good,” he said doggedly. “We have still some things to get at Thanout Lake, and most important we have no canoe. How can we travel on the Barrens in summer without a canoe? How can we get back south in the autumn without one? If we have only dogsleds we must stay in the Barrens until winter before we can travel south. And there is Angeline. We cannot leave her alone here to walk back to Thanout Lake. Also I do not wish to go without telling my father and my mother. Many times I have worried them very much, and I will not do this again.”
Jamie was torn between the two. Much as he wanted to get started north, and greatly as he feared being found by the police, he recognized the truth of what Awasin said. The argument was still going on when Angeline stepped quietly outside, returning almost instantly to announce:
“Awasin! There is someone coming on the lake!”
The boys leaped up and ran outside. There was a hazy moon giving just enough light to show that something very odd was moving soundlessly across the lake toward the hill. The head of it looked like a team of dogs, but behind was a huge, looming shape beside which they could just distinguish the running figure of a man.
“What on earth is it?” Jamie asked in sharp alarm.
“Never mind what. We must get away from the cabin,” Awasin replied urgently. “Is the fire out, Angeline? Good. Move quick, the rest of you. We’ll hide below the hill!”
Five minutes later they had gained the shelter of the forest and were crouching beside their teams, muttering hoarse threats to the first dog that dared open its mouth. They waited tensely and soon they could hear the squeaking of sled runners, the panting of dogs, and the flap-flap-flap of snowshoes. Then silence fell.
For what seemed hours the silence was unbroken. Peetyuk was about to stand up to take a look when, with heart-stopping suddenness, a figure loomed right over them and a sibilant voice cut through the night air.
With a gasp of relief Awasin jumped to his feet.
“It’s all right. It is one of the Chipeweyans. He’s come to tell us something.”
In some embarrassment the four emerged from their hiding place (to which the Chipeweyan had tracked them easily) and joined their visitor. He proved to be a young hunter named Zabadees, and the mystery of the strange appearance of his team out on the lake ice was soon resolved. He had brought two fourteen-foot birch-bark canoes tied one on top of the other on his long sled.
Back in the cabin once more Awasin lit a candle. “It is safe now,” he reassured his friends. “This man says the plane is at the Idthen Eldeli camp for the night, and the white men are sleeping in a tent beside it.”
“Find out the rest!” Jamie cried impatiently.
For several minutes Awasin and Zabadees talked rapidly together, then Awasin translated.
“There are three white men. One is a policeman. One flies the plane. One is a doctor. The plane also brought Madees—the Chipeweyan who went south for help and almost died at Reindeer Lake. The white men made him guide them north. He did not know there was any trouble. But when they got to Thanout Lake my father managed to talk to Madees and tell him what was happening. My father also sent a message by Madees to me. He said we are to cache our furs and go north now if we can. He said the policeman was angry that you were not at Macnair or Thanout Lake. He thinks they will now search hard for you. He said we are to send Angeline to Denikazi’s camp, and he will come for her there in a few days’ time.
“Denikazi also sent a message. He too says we are to go north quickly. He sent the two canoes for us, and Zabadees is to go with us to the edge of the Barrens and show us the secret ways. He says the white men saw the smoke from the cabin and in the morning they may come here looking. So we must go at once.”
Jamie and Peetyuk bombarded Awasin with questions and he translated them to Zabadees—but the Chipeweyan could not add much to what he had already said except to say that Denikazi had been as good as his word, and had arranged to lay a false trail. A second Chipeweyan team had quietly slipped away from the camp with Zabadees after the white men went into their tent. The two teams had traveled together by a roundabout route almost to Kasmere Hill, where the second team had turned off. It was even then being driven up the center of the northwest arm of the lake and it would return the same way before dawn, thus leaving a trail which would appear to originate from Kasmere House. In all likelihood the police plane would follow this false trail. Meanwhile Zabadees was to lead the boys across country over a system of little ponds to the Putahow River. They were then to follow the Putahow north, traveling only at night for the first two laps of the journey.
“Denikazi’s sure got it all planned out,” Jamie said admiringly. “Sounds like a heck of a good plan too. What do you fellows think?”
“It is very good,” Awasin answered. “But there is still one problem. What about my sister? We cannot leave her. Nor can she go to the Chipeweyan camp alone.”
“No, and I will not go there anyway!” Angeline interjected firmly. “Perhaps they are good people, but I do not know them, and I will not stay with them. I will go with you.”
“You will not!” Jamie snapped angrily.
Peetyuk, who had so far said very little, intervened.
“I not know why she cannot go, Jamie. She good cook, can paddle canoe, can drive do
gs, can do most we can do. We got two canoes. Two fellows go in each. I mean”—he blushed a little—“two fellows in one canoe, one fellow and one girl in other canoe.”
“No! By Harry!” Jamie cried in fury. “No girls!”
“Calm down, Jamie,” Awasin said. “I know what we can do. She can go with us the first part of the way until Zabadees turns back. Then he can take her straight to Thanout Lake. I think he will agree to do that. I will ask him.”
When the question was put to him Zabadees took his first real look at the girl. His sharp black eyes lingered on her attractive face and slim body for longer than Peetyuk liked. Finally the Chipeweyan looked back at Awasin and nodded his head.
“I will take her home,” he said.
Since there was no real alternative, Jamie reluctantly agreed. An hour later the whole party was grouped around the cache which Angeline had made with so much labor. She had already tied up the stuff they were to take with them in travel bundles and so in a very short time the sled and carioles were loaded. Then, led by Zabadees’s toboggan with its bulky cargo of canoes, the four teams took the trail through the moonlit jackpine forests into the waiting north.
CHAPTER 6
Zabadees
IT WAS PAST MIDNIGHT BEFORE they moved off, and that left little time to put a safe distance from Kasmere House before dawn. Nevertheless they were forced to travel slowly. Despite the light of the hazed moon it was hard to pick a trail through the dark stands of jackpine. The snow was deep and only lightly crusted, and the heavily laden carioles and sled kept breaking through the crust so that the dogs were soon panting with exertion. None of the party was able to ride. Even Zabadees, whose sled was lightly loaded (the canoes weighed only forty pounds apiece) was forced to walk ahead of his team to break a trail for them.
About 2:00 A.M. they reached the first of a chain of little lakes which they were to follow, and the going got better. Angeline, who had exhausted herself the previous day, was now so weary she could barely put one snowshoe ahead of the other. She kept up with the rest of them as best she could, and made no complaint. But when they stopped for a brief rest at the end of the first lake, Zabadees gave her a quick glance and spoke briefly to Awasin.