  “Well, you sure did give us a good scare,” Jack declared, as he shook his friend’s hand and threw himself down on the ground by his side. “Tell us all about it.” “Do you think that thing, whatever it was, knew that you were following it?” he asked as soon as Rex had finished his story. “I don’t know, but it made off through the woods mighty fast. That’s what made me get so far away before I knew it.” “You might not have been so far away at that,” Bob laughed. “You don’t have to go very far in these woods to get lost if you’re not used to them.” “I’ll say you don’t,” Rex agreed, and then added: “Believe me, little Rexie is going to stick close to the fireside after this until he learns the ropes a bit better.” They were all too tired to think of setting a watch that night. “We’ll take a chance on it,” Bob declared. “But we’ll make it pretty hard for anyone to get any of our things just the same.” So as soon as supper was over they rearranged their beds in the form of square, and piled all their supplies in the middle. “Now Mr. Lalapaloosla has got to step over one of us in order to get away with any of our stuff, and I don’t believe even he can do it without waking at least one of us,” he declared, and Kernertok grunted approval. They were up with the first break of day and found that nothing had been disturbed nor did a careful search disclose any additional tracks. “I guess you scared him off,” Jack declared as they gathered about the fire for breakfast. Breaking camp as soon as possible, they started for the upper end of Lake Umsaskis, which they reached about an hour later. Then, turning slightly to the right, they entered a long narrow pond, which Bob informed them was called Long Pond. “And it looks as though it were well named,” Rex declared. “When we get to the upper end of it we’ll enter the Allagash and then it’s only about forty miles to the Little Umsaskis,” Bob told him. It was nearly noon when they reached the upper end of the pond, and they decided to land and eat dinner before starting down the river. “We made one big mistake, Jack, when we started on this trip,” Bob said while they were eating. “Only one?” Jack smiled. “Well, I’ve only thought of one so far.” “All right, spring it.” “We should have left one of the pocket phones at home and brought the other with us.” “What do you mean, phones?” Rex asked. “Why, early in the summer we finished a couple of what we call pocket radio phones,” Bob explained. “We had been working on them for some time.” “And let me tell you they came in mighty handy awhile ago.” Jack interrupted, and he told Rex and the Indian about their trip along the Canadian border in their search for liquor smugglers. “And you didn’t bring them with you?” Rex asked. “Oh, I brought them, but the trouble is that I brought both instead of leaving one at home, so we could talk with the folks.” As Bob was speaking he took the two cases out of his pack and explained how they worked. “Well, you boys do beat the bugs. And you never said a thing about it. Why, it’s wonderful. Mebby we’ll have a chance to use them before we get back.” “Quien sabe,” Bob smiled. The Allagash River flows from the upper end of Long Pond, nearly due north. In places nearly an eighth of a mile wide, it narrows in others to a small space through which the water rushes with the speed of an express train. They had just finished dinner and were about to clean up when suddenly they heard a loud twang from a thicket near by, followed by a whirring sound as a feathered arrow flew just over their heads and stuck quivering in a white birch. “What-do-you-know-about-that?” Jack gasped. “I thought this was the twentieth century,” Rex whispered, as he gazed fascinated at the arrow. “A bit lower and you’d have been scalped, Bob.” Only Kernertok seemed for the moment to retain his wits. Hardly had the arrow hit the tree than he leaped for the thicket whence it came. But even his swiftness was too slow, for he could find no trace of the shooter. For several minutes he beat about, but at length was forced to acknowledge that whoever had been responsible for the shot had been too quick for him. Meanwhile Bob had noticed something peculiar about the arrow. “Looks as though a piece of paper was wrapped about the end,” he declared, as he got to his feet. “There is, too,” he said a moment later, as he tried to pull the arrow from the tree. So deep had the head of the arrow sunk into the tree that he broke it in pulling it out. “That’s too bad,” he muttered. “Would have liked to keep that for a keepsake. Only time I ever had an arrow shot at me.” “What does it say?” Jack asked impatiently. “Just a minute and I’ll have it off.” The slip of paper was tied tightly about the shank of the arrow with a short length of waxed thread, and it took him some time to get it off. “Why it isn’t paper at all,” he declared, as he unwrapped it. “It’s a piece of white birch bark.” “Any writing on it?” Jack asked impatiently. “There’s something,” Bob replied as he smoothed the sheet of bark out. “Well of all things.” Rex, who was peeping over Bob’s shoulders, made the remark. There was no writing on the bark, but, drawn with a bit of charcoal, were a number of crude figures. “You’d think this was back a hundred years ago,” Jack said, as he studied the drawings. Three figures, evidently intended to represent white boys and one Indian, followed by a dog, were seen fleeing from a band of Indians. The air was filled with flying arrows. “It seems to be a fairly broad hint to say the least,” Bob said. “Whoever did it sure knows how to come to the point,” Jack agreed. “Let’s see what Kernertok thinks about it,” Rex suggested. “Good idea.” The old Indian studied the drawing intently for several minutes, then handed it back shaking his head. “What about it?” Bob asked. “Injun no mak’ um.” “You sure?” “Heap sure.” “What makes you think so?” “Injun no mak’ many Injuns, mebby two, mebby three, no more.” “Who did it then?” Jack asked. “No can tell. Some white man.” “Well, it’s dead sure that whoever did it wanted us to think that it was Indians,” Bob declared. “That heap so,” Kernertok agreed. “It all seems to fit in,” Bob said slowly. “Fit in what?” Jack asked. “Why some one is trying to scare us away from here. First they tried it with those tracks and then when that didn’t work they tried this warning.” “And do we scare?” “We do not.” “Not so you’d notice it,” Rex joined in. “But we’ve got to be on our guard every minute,” Bob insisted. “What do you say, Kernertok?” “Must be heap sharp.” “And then some,” Jack agreed. “Well, it isn’t the first time we’ve been up against it and I guess we can take care of ourselves fairly well,” Bob declared. “I reckon,” Jack joined in. “They say that variety is the spice of life,” Rex said. “If that’s right, I’ll recommend Northern Maine to anyone who’s looking for spice. There’s more of that article to the square inch up here than any place I ever saw or heard of.” “I guess you’re about right there,” Bob laughed. “But before we start, I move we take a look about and see if we find out anything about who shot that arrow.” “I guess Kernertok made a pretty good search,” Jack said. “Injun hunt quick. No look careful. We mak’ heap good look,” Kernertok advised. But although they searched for the better part of half an hour beyond locating the place from which the arrow had been shot as indicated by a few broken twigs, they found nothing to help them. There was no trace of a trail to show in what direction the man had departed. “He’s foxy all right,” Bob declared, as they gave up the search. “Righto,” Jack agreed. “Him heap good,” Kernertok added, shaking his head. It was plain to the boys that the old man was worried. He always felt a keen sense of responsibility when in the woods with his boys, although he had great confidence in their ability to look out for themselves. “Them most as good as Injun,” he had once told Mr. Golden. “Rex, do you think that this business can have any connection with that fellow who stole your money?” Bob asked. Rex thought for some time before replying. “That’s a pretty hard question to answer,” he said finally. “I do know that he came from somewhere up here.” “But would he have any way of knowing that we were after him?” “That’s what I don’t know. You see, he must know more or less people around here, and it’s possible that some one may have put him wise.” “Well, it must be one of three things,” Bob declared after a moment’s thought. “It’s either he or some of those whiskey runners who think we are after them, or—” “Or what?” Jack asked as he paused. “Or a real lalapaloosla,” he said with a grin. “Oh, rats,” Jack laughed. “Mebby,” Bob replied. “Mebby what?” “What you said.” “You know that you don’t believe in any lalapaloosla business,” Jack said. “Who said I did?” Bob smiled. “You came pretty near to it,” Rex broke in, but Bob only laughed. “Well, this isn’t getting us anywhere,” Jack said as he started toward the canoe. “Great Scott! Look at this, will you,” he shouted a moment later, pointing to the canoe. All rushed to where he was standing. “Well, I’ll be jiggered,” Bob said, and Rex added: “Of all things.” “Him heap big cut,” Kernertok shook his head slowly, as he gazed at the slit in the bottom of the canoe. “Who could have done it?” Rex gasped. “Same one who has done all the rest of this monkey business,” Jack snapped angrily. “You mean who shot that arrow?” Bob asked. “Well, I hope there isn’t more than one party after us.” “That’s a consummation devoutly to be desired,” Bob declared. “This is no time for verboseness,” Jack told him, and Bob apologized. “But when could he have done it?” he asked. “While we were hunting for him back in the woods, of course,” Jack told him. “Of course,” Bob repeated. “We were big dunces not to have left one of us to watch the canoe.” “You said a mouthful,” Jack declared, adding: “Seems to me we’re always locking the door after the horse is stolen.” “You can’t think of everything,” Rex consoled. “It beats me why he didn’t smash it all to pieces while he was about it,” Bob mused. “Perhaps he intended to, but didn’t have time,” Rex suggested. “I think you hit it,” Jack told them. “See. Here’s the big cut and right back of it is a little one. Looks as though he had just started on the second one when he saw us and had to beat it. I’ll bet he intended to cut it all up, so that it would be impossible to fix it.” “That heap right,” Kernertok said sadly. “Him start to spoil boat.” “Well, we can thank our lucky stars that we didn’t stay back there any longer,” Bob said. “And we mustn’t let this canoe out of our sight for a single minute after this,” Jack added. “We won’t,” Bob assured him. They lifted the canoe from the water and carried it up the bank, where they placed it bottom up. Kernertok at once went off in search of bark and pitch, and, as there seemed nothing else to do, the boys threw themselves on the ground to await his return. “Guess we might as well get some trout for supper while we’re waiting,” Jack said after a while. “I’ll go with you if Bob don’t mind staying alone,” Rex said. “Sure. Go ahead. I’ll watch the canoe and things,” Bob assured them. Kernertok was gone longer than Bob expected and he was beginning to get a bit uneasy when the Indian returned. “Pitch heap few,” he explained his long absence. “Have to go heap long ways before find.” “Didn’t see any sign of anyone, did you?” “No sign,” the Indian replied, as he set about the work of repairing the canoe. He had it nearly completed when Rex and Jack returned with a dozen fair-sized trout. “She be right in mornin’,” he assured them. “Another half day lost,” Bob sighed. “Never mind. We’re lucky to have the canoe at all,” Rex declared. The afternoon, or what was left of it, passed slowly to the boys, eager to be on their way. They arranged to keep watch by twos that night, Bob and the Indian to take the first turn until twelve o’clock. “And mind you, don’t go to taking any midnight strolls,” Bob cautioned Rex as the latter said good-night and wrapped himself in his blanket. “Don’t you believe it,” Rex assured him. “I’m going to stick closer than any brother you ever saw.” “You’d better,” Jack laughed. It was a clear night, with a new moon, which, although it did not give much light, relieved the intense darkness of the previous nights. “It’s a whole lot better than nothing,” Bob told the Indian. “Heap much,” Kernertok grunted. Twelve o’clock came and nothing had happened. “Reckon he or it or whatever it is knows we are on the watch and is afraid to try anything,” Bob told the Indian as he started to call Jack and Rex. The moon had disappeared and it was very dark when the two latter came on watch. “Keep your eyes peeled,” Bob cautioned, as he threw himself on his bed. “Don’t you worry,” Jack assured him. “Nothing is going to get away with any monkey shines to-night.” Two o’clock came and they had heard no sound to alarm them. It was almost three when a slight sound down close to the shore attracted Jack’s attention. “Did you hear it?” he asked, trying to pierce the darkness. “Yep. Let’s make a rush for it.” “Come on.” Together they ran for the lake, some twenty feet distant. “There it goes,” Rex cried. “After it,” Jack echoed. But, although they ran as fast as they dared in the darkness, the thing had disappeared in the thick woods before they could reach it. “Mebby it’s just as well at that,” Rex said as they paused at the edge of the forest. “What do you mean, just as well?” “Well, if we had caught up with it we might have more than we could have handled,” Rex said slowly. “You may be right at that. Anyhow it’s no use running after it in the dark. But wait till next time,” he shouted. Was it fancy or did they hear a low cackling laugh float back to them from the depths of the thick woods? “What was it?” Rex asked. “Never heard anything like it before,” Jack replied. “And I hope I’ll never hear it again.” “Did it look like the thing you chased the other night?” “I guess so, but it was too dark to see much both times. All I could see the other time was an indefinite shape.” Bob and Kernertok were up as soon as it was light. “Well, you’re all here I see,” Bob greeted them. “Yes, and we came pretty near catching the lalapaloosla,” Rex said. “How near?” “Well, as a matter of fact, I guess we really came about as near as the Irishman did to selling his pig,” Rex laughed. “How was that?” Jack asked. “Pat had a pig to sell, and after a trip to town with it, he told a friend that he came mighty near to selling it. His friend asked him the same question that you asked me, and he replied, ‘Sure an’ I asked a feller didn’t he want ter buy a foine pig, an’ he said no, but if he’d a said yes, sure an’ I’d sold him.’” “And if you’d caught it, why you’d have caught it, eh?” “That’s about the size of it,” Rex laughed. After a hurried breakfast Kernertok announced that the canoe was in good shape for use, and packing up their stuff as quickly as possible, they pushed off. There is but little current to the Allagash, as it runs out of Long Pond, but with Bob and Kernertok at the paddles, they made good time. “It seems strange to be going down river and north at the same time,” Rex said. “Everything this side of Chamberlain Lake flows north and empties into the St. John River,” Bob told him. A paddle of about fifteen miles brought them to another small lake some four miles long. “What lake is this?” Rex asked. “Pataquongamas Pond,” Bob replied. “Pata who?” “You pronounce the first syllable and then sneeze the rest,” Jack laughed. “Can you tell me why they give the smallest lakes up this way the longest names?” Rex asked. “It’s an Indian idea,” Bob told him. “They are great on big names.” As they entered the pond, Rex, who had by this time acquired considerable skill with the paddle, and Jack took their turn, and the canoe shot out onto the pond in a fresh burst of speed. “How long do you think you can keep that pace up?” Bob asked. “Don’t know,” Rex laughed, “but we’re sure going while we do.” “Well, look out that the friction doesn’t set the bottom of the canoe on fire.” “If it does, there’s plenty of water here to put it out,” Jack laughed. Although it was not quite noon when they reached the end of the pond, they decided to land for dinner before entering the river again. “Now we don’t want to lose sight of the canoe for a single minute,” Bob said, as he dragged it up onto the sandy beach. “I move that one of us stays right here by it while the rest get dinner,” Jack proposed. To this plan all agreed and it was decided that Rex should be the one. “Looks as though we were going to get a shower,” Jack said a little later as they were eating dinner close by the shore. “How about it, Kernertok?” “Heap big rain coming,” the Indian replied, as he closely scanned the sky. “Be here heap soon, too.” For some time a dark bank of clouds had been gathering in the west and even as the Indian spoke a low rumble of distant thunder was heard. “Think we’d better wait till it’s over,” Bob asked him. “Me think so. It coming heap big.” “Guess he’s right,” Jack declared, as a louder rumble reached their ears. “And she’s coming mighty fast,” Bob added. “We’d better get the things under cover as soon as we can.” They quickly carried the canoe well up from the shore, and turning it over, packed all their provisions beneath it. “Here it comes,” Jack cried, as the big drops began to beat on the bottom of the boat. Before they could get beneath the boughs of a spruce tree near by, the drops had changed to hail stones, many of them the size of a filbert nut. “Whow! Those fellows sting,” Rex shouted as he ran for the tree. “They’re getting the heavy artillery into action up above,” Jack said, as a sharp flash of lightning followed by a heavy crash of thunder lighted up the sky. Soon the hail changed back to rain, and the water fell almost in sheets. “It’s a regular cloud burst,” Bob declared. “And our roof’s beginning to leak,” Rex laughed, as a few drops of water found their way down his back. “Better speak to the landlord about it,” Jack advised. Flash! Bang! “Hit that tree right over there,” Bob said. Flash! Bang! “This is getting a bit too close for comfort,” Rex declared. “Hope it doesn’t pick out our tree for a target.” “Look at that buck down by the shore,” Jack cried. “Isn’t he a beauty?” “Guess he’s wondering what it’s all about,” Rex declared. They had seen so many deer that the appearance of one, unless a particularly large one, hardly excited comment. The storm passed almost as quickly as it had come up, and in another half hour the sun was peeping through the clouds. “Well, I guess the fireworks are over,” Bob said, as he stepped out from beneath the tree. White caps were running as they pushed off, and the spray flew over them as they drove the canoe through the water. “Might as well have stayed out in the rain as to get soaked after it’s all over,” Jack grumbled. “But this water isn’t so wet,” Bob laughed. “Guess I’ll have to take that back,” he gasped a moment later, as the top of a big wave broke and dumped itself in his lap. But they were in the river in a few minutes and here the water was not so rough. “Life sure is getting mighty monotonous,” Jack declared a couple of hours later. “Not a single adventure outside of the thunder storm all day.” “You must want a thrill a minute,” Rex laughed. “You may have more excitement than you want before we get back,” Bob reminded him. The excitement began even sooner than he expected. It was only a few minutes later, as they rounded a sharp bend, that they met another canoe carrying three men. That they were half-breeds was evident from their swarthy skins, and all three were much above the average man in size. So sharp was the bend that the canoes were within a few feet of each other before the occupants of either were aware of the others’ presence. “You try heet us?” the man in the bow shouted angrily, as Bob dug his paddle in the water and swung the end of his canoe round just in time to avoid a collision. “Certainly not,” he replied pleasantly. “Eet look ver’ much like eet,” the man growled as he swung his canoe so as to bring it close to the other. “I don’t think so.” “You mak’ call me liar, oui?” “No. I’m simply trying to make you understand that I think you are mistaken.” “Me non mak’ meestake. Me all der time right.” “All right, we’ll let it go at that,” Bob replied, anxious to avoid a quarrel if possible. “Whar you go?” the man, who appeared to be the spokesman of the three, asked. “Down the river.” “For why?” “That’s our business,” Bob replied a bit sharply, for the man’s attitude was getting on his nerves. “Mebby we mak’ heem our beesiness, oui?” “Do as you please about that,” Bob snapped. For a moment the man made no reply. One of his companions said something to him in a tone so low that they were unable to hear. The man scowled and asked: “Mebby your name Golden, oui?” “Mebby,” Bob repeated. “I thot so. You better turn an’ geet back where you come from.” “What for?” Jack asked, before Bob had time to speak. “For cause me say so.” “Afraid you’ll have to give us a better reason than that,” Bob said, as he shook his head. “You no go we mak’ you,” the man declared angrily. It was plain to the boys that the man was a bully of a type common among the half-breeds of northern Maine, and they could also see that he was spoiling for a fight. They well knew that many of them had rather fight than eat, especially when the odds were on their side. “Better beat it,” Jack whispered. “While the beating’s good, eh?” “They’re ugly.” “I know it and I guess your advice is good.” As he spoke, Bob dug his paddle into the water and swung the bow of the canoe away from the other. At the same time, Kernertok, who was in the stern, sent it ahead. Two of the men in the other canoe reached out in an effort to grasp hold of it as it shot past. So violent was their motion that their canoe narrowly escaped capsizing, and it was only the expert handling by the one who had done the talking that prevented it. “Dig into it, Kernertok,” Bob cried. “You make um think we scat,” Kernertok replied. “We go slow.” “Kernertok’s right, Bob,” Jack broke in. “If they think we’re afraid of them they’ll be more apt to follow us.” “Guess you’re right, but they’re coming anyway,” Bob said glancing back over his shoulder. “But we won’t run away from them. They’d probably catch us if that’s their game.” They paddled along at about their usual speed for a few minutes, when Rex, who happened to be facing the rear, said: “They’re not making any effort to catch us.” “What are they doing?” Bob asked. “Just keeping along about the same distance away.” “What do you make of it, Kernertok?” “Them heap bad mans.” “No doubt about that, but what do you suppose they want with us?” “Mebby steal.” “I say, Bob,” Jack said suddenly, “how do you suppose that fellow knew your name?” “Ask me something easy. I never saw the fellow before, to the best of my knowledge.” “Well, it seems mighty strange that they should follow us. Their time can’t be very valuable, or else they’re up to some kind of a game that we aren’t in on.” For some time the two canoes kept nearly the same distance apart, the half-breeds making no effort to catch up with them. |
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