CHAPTER VII
THE FRIEND IN NEED
Even considering the serious nature of their quest and the plight theywere in, it was not possible for the boys to refrain from laughing whenthey recognised Britain's national song as caricatured by the singer.But they had sufficient wisdom to control most of their amusement to"inward laughing." It is not always safe in the backwoods to announceyour presence too suddenly where strangers are concerned--especiallystrangers who are not of the white skin.
"That's a rum sort of music to come upon a hundred miles from nowhere,"remarked Bob, with a grin, to his chum.
"Let's hope that it comes from a throat that has something ofcivilisation about it," said Alf.
"It doesn't sound quite like a white man. That 'ne-vaire' is more Frenchaccent than English--probably a half-breed."
"What do you think we ought to do?"
"Investigate. We've got no choice. We're lost; that's certain enough.What's more, there seems to be very little chance of finding our owntrail back to the camp."
"That's true enough," Alf assented. "But suppose we come upon a camp ofhalf-breeds, as you suggested? I've heard that they're not the best offriends to white people in out-of-the-way places."
Arnold nodded in agreement.
"I dare say that's true. But, at the same time, most yarns of the kindhave usually got large bits of ornamental stuff stuck round the facts.We'll have to take our chance of falling in with friends or foes."
"Right-away. If you're ready, I'm ready also," said Alf promptly. "Itwill be a strange thing if 'Rule Britannia' leads Britons into a messinstead of out of one."
Having thus determined what course to pursue, the two boys began tocreep cautiously through the bush towards the locality from whence stillproceeded the music that was being repeated with all the diligence ofsome one who was determined to learn his lesson thoroughly.
The night was now quite dark, but presently the chums were able todistinguish the flickering of a camp-fire at no great distance beforethem.
Taking every care not to betray their presence by any careless footstep,they twined a path with all the success that a professional trackerwould have admired. Then, penetrating a more than usually dense portionof the bush, the young explorers found themselves right on the edge ofthe encampment, and the picture that they then discovered was one thatwas surely calculated to drive away all melancholy thoughts and feelingsof fatigue, for the time being at least.
Seated on the end of a water-keg, in front of a moderate-sized "A" tent,was a man of gigantic size whose black hair stood up from his head as ifhe were constantly seeing ghosts, and whose equally black beard streameddown his breast like a cataract of ink. He was dressed in a blue shirt,corduroy trousers protected with cowboy "shaps," and heavy top-boots. Inhis hands was an accordion, at his side sat a collie dog, while in frontof him, with his back to the fire--standing with his hands behind hisback in the attitude of a schoolboy repeating a lesson--was atousle-headed half-breed, whom he of the black beard was addressing inencouraging tones--
"Noo then, ma callant, we'll just be having that last line ower again.It's no' bad as an eemitation o' a cat left oot on a winter's night; butit's no' just what I call 'ceevilised'; no' just quite that--yet."
Then the accordion sounded a dismal chord suggestive of an attack ofasthma, the half-breed reattacked the "ne-vaire, ne-vaire, ne-vaire" ina manner that made up in energy what it lacked in music, and the collieraised his head to add a long-drawn wail to the concert.
"That's a wee bit better," was the player's verdict at the finish. "I'mthinking we'll make a ceevilised creature oot o' you in time, Haggis."Then the speaker turned to the dog. "As for you, Bannock, you're a bitoot o' tune at times. But it's no' that bad for a doggie. It's good tobe aye trying to do our best----"
"Hear! hear!" shouted Bob, whose interested amusement had quite banishedhis caution.
The effect of the boy's applause was electric. The two men started. Thehalf-breed snatched up a gun that was leaning against a tree near by;one hand of the bearded man deposited the musical instrument upon theground as his right picked up a handy rifle; while Bannock, the dog,crouched down with bristling hair and deep growling.
"Come oot and show yourself, whoever ye be!" commanded the master, as heraised himself to his great height, with rifle in readiness and eyesstaring towards that part of the bush where the chums stood. "Comeforward this instant, or I'll bore as many holes in your body as thereare farthings in a pound!"
In obedience to the gentle invitation, and not in the least nervous, nowthat they knew who the musicians were, the boys immediately made theirappearance.
"There's no need to be afraid----" began Holden reassuringly, when hewas interrupted by a huge guffaw of derision.
"Afraid! And what for shall Skipper Mackintosh be afraid? Unless it'smosquitoes, there's no man or beast in Canada that'll turn a hair on hishide." Then, seeing the lads as they approached into the firelight, theman immediately changed his tone of address as he also altered thethreatening pose of his rifle. "What! A pair o' laddies?" he exclaimedin astonishment, and Bob replied--
"Neither of whom is particularly anxious to be riddled with a pound'sworth of farthing bullets!"
But the words had barely passed the boy's lips before the rifle had beendropped to the ground and the man had sprung forward excitedly to grab ahand of each boy in his great fists.
"Faix! but this is a fine sight for sore eyes!" he exclaimed, as hevigorously pumped the arms up and down. "I've no' seen a white face(barring a trader's, and that was ower dirty to call it 'white') thistwelvemonth past. I'm right glad to see you!"
"And I guess we're jolly glad to see you," returned Alf. "It's a treat,but--speaking for myself, I really want to use my hand again. It'll bejelly in a few more seconds."
"And mine too!" laughed Bob, who could not help wincing at the vigorousform of the welcome.
The Scotsman immediately released his severe grasp.
"Sakes! But I'm that glad to see you, laddies, I feel just likesqueezing for another hour. I suppose, noo, that I'm no' just dreaming?You're no' by chance just twa o' them muckle moths that's come into mydream in a make-believe?"
"We're human, sure enough," Arnold laughed in reply, and Alf added--
"Terribly human we are, for we've lost our way in the forest, and we'rebeastly tired as well as hungry."
"Lost--tired--hungry?" repeated Mackintosh. "That has a humansound--terribly human, as you say." Then he turned towards thehalf-breed, who had been standing an amazed spectator of the scene. "Didyou hear that, Haggis?" he demanded. "Did you hear that--'hungry andtired'?"
"Haggis hear," was the quiet reply of the native, to which the Scotretorted angrily--
"You heard? And yet, one meenit after, I see you standing there like adaft gowk instead o' hustling for food as fast as your legs can moveyou? Ma conscience! But you tak' a deal of ceevilising! You dinna kenthe first meaning o' the word 'hospitality.' Off wi' you!"
There was no need to repeat the order, for the half-breed immediatelydisappeared within the tent, and the almost simultaneous rattling soundof tin-ware was evidence of his haste to supply the want.
Mackintosh then turned to the boys.
"Noo then, rest yourselves, laddies. Sit doon by the fire, and you'llsoon have a bit o' something to grind between your molars. Haggis isslow to understand, but he's quick enough when he kens what's wanted."
Not unwillingly, the chums soon stretched themselves in comfortablepositions beside the camp-fire at either side of their eccentric host.Bannock, however, still eyed the strangers with suspicion, so Mackintoshwas forced to introduce the dog formally to each boy in turn, at whichthe intelligent animal extended a paw with all the air of one who isaccustomed to polite society.
"He's a fine chap," explained the Scot. "There's no' a single thing thathe canna do (according to the leemitations o' Nature) except speak. Andeven that he manages to do in his ain way. Noo, come here, Bannock, andlie down while oo
r freends spin us their yarn. They've no' told us yetwho they are, where they come frae, nor where they're going."
"That's a yarn that's quickly told," remarked Bob. The half-breed bythis time had returned from the tent with generous supplies of colddeer, damper, and wild berries, after serving which he placed a pan onthe fire in preparation for coffee. "It's a yarn that won't take long inthe telling, though, if you'll excuse me, I'll eat while I speak."
"Eat awa'," assented the other, while he lit a corn-cob pipe to satisfyhis own immediate wants. "There's plenty mair where that came frae, andthe coffee will soon be ready!"
Arnold then launched into a brief recital of his and his chum'sadventures, beginning with the departure of their fathers on theprevious morning, and concluding--
"So all this afternoon we've been wandering about trying to find a pathback to our camp, so as to start afresh by the river course. But it wasno use."
"And we might have been wandering still if it had not been for a strangeaccident that led us here," added Alf, at which remark Mackintoshquestioned--
"And what might that be? The soond o' Haggis's nightingale voice?"
"No--at least, not in the first place. We heard that later. What firststarted us in this direction was a curious sort of light that wediscovered on one of the trees. And while we were examining it wenoticed that there were other lights on other trees in a straight linewith one another. Strange, wasn't it?"
"Very," returned the Scotsman dryly. "Very strange."
"It would be a good thing for a naturalist," said Bob. "I noticed thatthere was a perfect cloud of moths flying about wherever there was apatch of light. A collector of moths and butterflies would reap aharvest. I suppose you've noticed the lights as well as we?"
"H'm--yes--considering that I painted the trees mysel' this afternoon,"was the reply. "It's an invention o' my own. I'm what _you_ call acollector of moths and butterflies. An entomologist is a shorter way o'putting it. Well, there's many folks stick to treacle--I mean, stick tothe auld-fashioned way o' putting dabs of treacle and speerit on treesto attract the nocturnal creatures. That's all very fine and good. Butyou canna carry gallons o' treacle on a tramp like this, when your wholeoutfit must be packed on one pony. So says I to mysel': 'Moths areattracted by light; I must invent a composeetion o' phosphorus to takethe place o' treacle.' And those lights that you found on yon trees arethe result."
"And a splendid idea it is!" exclaimed Alf, who had also done his littleshare of treacling at school. "Is it a success?"
"Magnificent. I've found more moths than were known to exist in theWest. I'm thinking that I'll open the eyes o' the Royal EdinburghEntomological General Natural History Exchange Society when I get backagain after my journeys. But----" The speaker here paused in hisenthusiasm, remarking seriously, "I'm thinking there's other matters o'mair importance before us the noo than moths. Your faithers went doonthe Athabasca, you said?"
"Yes; in a canoe," said Bob.
Mackintosh shook his head ominously.
"That's bad. I suppose they'd never been there before--indeed, it wasno' possible, or they'd never have made the attempt yesterday."
"Is it--dangerous?" questioned Holden, in an undertone of dread, for theman's voice conveyed no small impression of the risks the voyagers hadrun. "We had not thought of danger in the river. We only thought ofmoose."
Mackintosh grunted uneasily.
"The river is more treacherous than any moose. There's a terrible narrowbight atween cliffs where it runs like lightning, and then shoots in awaterfall into the Silver Lake. Man! I've seen great trunks o' pinegiants flung through yon opening like wee arrows a hundred feet in theair afore they touched water again."
"Then a canoe----"
"If it reached so far in safety it would shoot likewise."
"You think it possible that the canoe _might_ pass the gully unharmed?"Bob then questioned. It was always his nature to struggle for thebrightest view, and the man's answer was somewhat in the same spirit.
"It's no' the way o' Skipper Mackintosh to find trouble until troublefinds him. He's been in a' the back corners o' Europe, Africa, India,China, and America; and, if he learned nothing mair from his travels, helearned this: troubles are easier conquered when you meet them wi' afirm lip at the proper time. But the man that moans before he kens whathe's moaning about--well, it's little strength he's got left when thefight really begins."
"Yet if, as you say, the Athabasca is so dangerous----" began Alf, whenhe was again interrupted with kindly roughness.
"If? Laddie, laddie, are you forgetting that there's a Hand that couldguide the frailest birch-bark safely through Niagara itsel'? And I dootnot that I'm right when I say that it's my opeenion that that same Handhas no' been very far from your faithers in their plight. Does either o'you ken anything o' this by chance?"
As he spoke Mackintosh dived his hand into the hip-pocket of hisoveralls and produced a white handkerchief which he spread out upon theground by the fire. The boys bent forward, and immediately Alfexclaimed--
"That's my father's! See! His initials are at the corner. Where did youfind it?"
"_Not_ in the Athabasca!" said Mackintosh with quiet triumph. "Haggisand I came upon it this morning a hundred yards from Silver Lake."
"Then that means that they are on shore!" exclaimed Bob with delight atthe relief from one anxiety that the evidence of the handkerchiefprovided.
"Ay. The Athabasca is free from that charge, at any rate. That hanky hasno legs to walk by itsel'. It must have been carried. By whom? No' by anIndian, though I ken there's been Indians in the viceenity. If aredskin had found it, he'd have taken better care o' it. And so it'sclear to me that one o' your faithers must have dropped it on dry land,and so--so---- Well, you both o' you can have a sound night's rest."
So convincing were the tones in which the man clothed his words that thespirits of the boys were quickly stirred from gloomy anticipations tocomparative cheerfulness.
"You've lifted a load from my mind, Mr. Mackintosh," Bob saidgratefully, "for of course it is all fairly plain now. As likely as notthey passed through that horrible gully, but were too worn out yesterdayto start the trudge back to camp. It would be a long way, too, seeinghow the river winds."
"In that case, most likely they are back at the camp by this time,"suggested Alf. "But they would understand our being away, for they wouldfind the note that we pinned to the tent."
"That's right, laddies. Look for the bright side and you'll always findit," the Scotsman remarked. "But I'm thinking that your reasoning is awee bit oot in one respect--they have no' gone back yet, else Haggis orI would have seen them. This camp is in the direct natural path fromthat part o' the Athabasca. My opeenion is that they've fallen in withthe Indians--a tribe o' Dacotahs, and peaceable folk they are. It's no'to be expected that the gully could be passed unscathed. So it's likelyto me that they're nursing themselves for a day wi' the redskins, after,maybe, sending a brave to your camp to tell you o' it. So to-morrowwe'll lose no time in starting for Silver Lake. That's the best plan Ican think o'."
"You mean to come with us?" asked Alf.
"What do you take me for--a savage?" was the reproachful return. "Do youthink that Skipper Mackintosh is going to allow twa laddies like you togo wandering aboot the backwoods when he can guide you? And when Skipperfails, is there no' the Haggis and Bannock--a pair o' the finest scoutsand trackers that ever set foot in bush or prairie? What do you take mefor, I'd just like to know?"
"One of the kindest hearts in the world, Mr. Mackintosh," said Bobfervently.
"Bah! Fiddlesticks and porridge-sticks!" was the rough rejoinder, thougha pair of eyes were turned kindly enough upon the youths--eyes thatglistened in a way that rather suggested the nearness of water. "All apack o' nonsense! If a man is no' ready to help his fellow-creatureswhen they need him--well, I'm thinking that he ought to have a pin stuckthrough his thorax and mounted in a box among my moths, labelled, 'Ahorrible freak o' Nature.' And I'd have you know, too,
that my name isMackintosh--Skipper Mackintosh. There's no 'Misters' in the backwoods.'Skipper' is the name that my auld faither gave me to commemorate hisdiscovery o' a new variety of skippers in the entomological world. Mindthat, and--and good-night to you, laddies. Good-night, and God bless thepair o' you."
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