Chapter IX: Part 9

"Some one is on that island," cried Jean in great excitement. "He is wrecked or hurt or starving, and he has tied that white thing to the tree to attract attention. We must go there at once. He may be a white man. We must rescue him."

"Go slow, little brother," cautioned Nangotook gravely. "Maybe, as you say, there is a man there wrecked and starving, but what if that white thing be only a trap? Where is the canoe we have been following? The Windigo may be trying to get us ashore, so he may murder and eat us."

"If he is, he will be getting the worst of it," declared Ronald emphatically. "We are three to one, and the only thing we need be fearing is a gun. If he is decoying us ashore, he will not be firing on us until we have landed, and even then he will try, I think, to use fair words and treachery rather than force. In that we are a match for him, now we are forewarned not to trust him."

"You speak truly, my brother," Nangotook answered. "I meant not to go by that island, but to be cautious. It may be that the signal is a true one. We must find out. But we must watch that we are not taken unawares by the evil Windigo. Now that I have warned you, steer for that island, and if the Cree is there, let him look to himself."

As they approached the place, the three watched eagerly for some indication of what they were to find there. Like most of the islands off Minong, it was rocky, but bore a patch of trees and bushes on its highest part. There seemed nothing unusual about it, but the white rag fluttering from a bare limbed birch tree. Not until they were close in, did Nangotook catch sight of a canoe drawn up on a bit of shelving pebble beach between two great rocks. Silently he pointed it out to the boys. They ran their own canoe upon the same beach and stepped out, the Ojibwa with one hand on his bowstring, an arrow in the other, and his eyes searching the rocks and woods for signs of ambush. He did not relax his vigilance when he heard Jean, behind him, utter a low-voiced exclamation.

The two boys had carried the canoe up the beach, and Jean had turned to look at the other craft that lay there. "Our own canoe," he whispered to Jean. "It was the Cree for sure."

Ronald glanced at the boat. There was no mistaking it. The three had built it themselves, and knew every rib and seam. It was wet, too. It had not been out of the water more than a few minutes. Though Nangotook did not turn his head, but still kept running his eyes searchingly over every bush and rock that might offer concealment to an enemy, he heard what Jean said. There was no need for him to examine the canoe. Jean's testimony was sufficient. The Ojibwa went on up the steep bit of beach, the two lads close behind him, with weapons ready.

Apparently the man who had landed from the canoe had given no thought to being followed, and had made no attempt to hide his trail. He had gone up over the rocks and into the bit of woods, and his track was plain to the Indian. The latter advanced cautiously, the boys equally noiseless, a short distance behind. They had taken but a few steps among the spruce trees, when they were arrested by the sound of voices. There was more than one man on the island then, although there had been but one in the boat The voices were speaking French, one with the guttural accent of the Indian, the other in flowing, mellow tones. Even if the three had not had good evidence that Le Forgeron Tordu was dead, they would never have taken that rich, deep pitched voice for his rough, cracked one. Silently but rapidly, Nangotook slipped forward again, the boys following until he turned and signaled them to halt. After taking a few more steps among the trees, he stopped also.

The mellow voice was speaking, and the boys could hear it plainly. It was a pleasing voice of refined accents, and it spoke excellent French, the French of a man of breeding and education. Even Jean Havard, who was well educated for a Canadian lad of his time and boasted of his pure French blood, did not speak like that. He could make out the unseen man's words distinctly.

"God will surely bless you through all your days," the voice said. "Moreover I will see to it, if you will take me safely to the Grande Portage, that you shall be well rewarded in material things as well. Flour, blankets, traps for your hunting, whatever you need or want of such things you shall have. But better than all will be the blessing of God upon you, for saving the life of His servant to carry on His glorious work, and to labor a little longer for the good of your own people."

The speaker ceased, and for a moment there was silence. Then the other man answered, but his words, spoken in a hoarse voice and guttural accents, were not distinguishable. While the second man was speaking, Nangotook crept forward again. Carefully he slipped between two spruce trees and peeped out from among the branches. He saw before him a rude wigwam in a small natural rock opening. In front of the wigwam stood the tall, black-gowned form of a Jesuit priest in conversation with an Indian. The Indian's back was towards Nangotook, but the Ojibwa did not fail to recognize him.

"Eh bien, I will be ready in a moment," said the priest in his deep, mellow voice.

He turned to go into the shelter. Instantly the Cree's whole aspect changed. He crouched, muscles tense, then leaped forward, like a forest cat, knife raised. But Nangotook was ready for him. His arrow was on his bowstring. Before the Windigo's knife could reach his unsuspecting victim, the bowstring twanged, and the flying arrow pierced the murderer's back a little to the left of the spinal column. He sprang back as if recoiling, then fell forward on his face.

XXXII

THE UPROOTED TREE

So instantaneous and noiseless were the Windigo's spring and Nangotook's arrow, that the priest suspected nothing until the thud of the body upon the ground startled him. He turned to find the Cree lying outstretched, the arrow sticking from his back, while the fierce face of the Ojibwa appeared among the spruce branches. Seizing the gold cross that hung on the breast of his black gown, the priest held it out towards the newcomer, and gazed at him for a moment with steady and fearless eyes. Then, without speaking, he knelt beside the fallen Cree. It took him but a moment to ascertain that the man was dead. His eye fell upon the outstretched hand clenching the knife. An expression of horror crossed his fine and sensitive face, and he glanced quickly up at Nangotook, with a look of doubt and questioning.

The Ojibwa had stepped out from among the trees, his weapon lowered. As the priest looked at him, the fierceness faded from the Indian's face. Speaking humbly, like a servant to his master or a child to his teacher, he addressed the Jesuit. "Blame me not, good Father," he said, "that I have slain that murderer with an arrow in the back as I might have killed Maheengun, the wolf, or Besheu, the lynx, when he was mad with the blood thirst. His knife was out. Before a dead leaf fell from that birch tree he would have plunged the knife in your body. He is a Windigo, in league with the evil one and hungering for human flesh. Already he has killed and eaten one man, an evil man to be sure, but a white man and his master."

As Nangotook finished speaking, the two boys, came out from the spruces. Jean sprang forward, pulling off his toque, and knelt before the missionary for his blessing, while Ronald, Scotch Protestant though he was, showed his respect by removing his hare skin cap and standing silent.

When he had given Jean his blessing, and the latter had risen to his feet, the priest looked searchingly into the lad's face and said gravely, "Who are you, my son, and these your companions, and how came you here? Surely you were sent of God to save the humblest of His servants from death at the hands of this poor, crazed savage."

"It is Etienne you should thank for that, reverend Father," Jean answered quickly, "but indeed I believe God led us here, and just in time, for----"

But the priest interrupted him, to speak to the Indian. Nangotook had squatted down by the body of the Cree, and had turned it over to make sure the man was dead. Then he had unlocked the Cree's fingers from his knife, had felt its edge and had just made a motion with the blade towards the neck of the fallen man, when the Jesuit's quick eye noted his action.

"My son," he said sternly, "what is it that you would do? Would you mutilate the body of the man you have killed?"

The Ojibwa looked up into the priest's grave face, and hastened to excuse and explain his action. "The man is a Windigo, good Father," he said. "Windigos are in league with the evil one and are hard to kill. This one seems to have died easily enough, but unless his body is cut to pieces, he may come to life again at any moment and slay us all."

"Nay, my child," the Jesuit answered less sternly, for he understood that the Indian's purpose, however mistaken, was a sincere one. He was not moved merely by a desire to avenge himself on the helpless body of a foe. "Nay, you need have no fear that the spirit of this poor, misguided child of the forest will return to animate his body. Already his soul has gone to other realms to await judgment for its sins. He was possessed of an evil spirit indeed. Though he spoke fair enough and promised to take me to the Grande Portage, I saw the madness in his eye and would not have trusted him, had he not seemed to be sent of God to deliver me from this desolate place. But even for such as he there may be forgiveness, when he has suffered his meed of punishment. I forbid you to mutilate his body. Instead, you and your companions shall kneel with me and pray for the soul of this poor savage, who has been struck down in the moment of his sin, without time for repentance."

Nangotook submitted docilely enough, kneeling beside the priest and remaining reverently silent through the latter's brief prayer.

There was not soil enough on the little island to dig a grave in, so Nangotook and his companions, at the missionary's command, placed the body of the Cree in a hole between the rocks, blocked up the opening with stones and branches, and threw a little earth and leaf mold over the whole. The simple burial service over, they were about to proceed to the canoe, when Jean noticed that the priest's face had turned very white and that he swayed a little and caught at a tree for support.

"You are ill, Father," he exclaimed, and then, guessing the reason for the other's weakness, he added, "Perhaps you suffer from hunger. If so, we are amply provided with meat and will prepare some for you at once."

"Thank you, my son," the Jesuit answered with a faint smile. "I do indeed suffer from hunger, for I have eaten nothing but roots and bark for several days."

His strength exhausted, he was glad to sink down on the ground in front of the wigwam, while the boys and Etienne prepared a meal. The missionary had been too long without hearty food to take anything but a little caribou broth. After he had eaten, he satisfied the boys' curiosity by telling them how he came to be in such a desperate situation.

He had been returning from a trip to an Indian mission on Lake Nipigon, beyond the head of Nipigon Bay, and was bound for another mission on the south shore, traveling in a small canoe with three Indians. They had been delayed by the bad weather, and, anxious to get on, had left their camping place at the foot of Thunder Cape in the night, after the wind had gone down. But the fog had caught them. All their landmarks were blotted out, and the Indians tried to steer by the wind. The air was unusually still, the light breeze coming in little puffs, which must have been variable in direction. The travelers went out of their course, and when the wind rose and began to blow the fog in driving sheets, they were close to Minong. Driven by the storm, they took refuge on the first land they sighted, the little island where the priest was now telling his story. There they remained throughout the northeaster. They were short of provisions, and one of the Indians, who was sick before they left Thunder Cape, died. The other two were sullen and more or less unmanageable. The missionary suspected that they had been tampered with at Lake Nipigon by a medicine man who hated the priest, for the latter's teachings were diminishing the Indian shaman's power over his fellows. Father Bertrand had reason to believe that the medicine man had told the Indians the "black gown" was an evil magician and would bring disaster upon them. The bad weather and other misfortunes of the journey and the sudden, mysterious sickness that had overtaken one of the crew and had ended in his death, bore out the medicine man's prophecies. Though the missionary did everything he could to restore his companions' confidence, they grew more and more sullen and suspicious. To their superstitious fears was added the hatred felt by one of the men, whom Father Bertrand had reprimanded for a heavy sin. He worked upon the fears of the other Indian, to convince him that misfortune would pursue them as long as they remained in company with the black gown. So it happened that, the second night after the storm ceased, when the wind had gone down and traveling was possible, the two Indians stole away while the priest was sleeping, taking the canoe and the few provisions that remained, and leaving the missionary without food or weapons.

Father Bertrand was a young man, not many years from France and unskilled in woodcraft of any kind. But even if he had known how to build a canoe, he was without knife or ax. Moreover there were no large birch trees and no white cedars on the island suitable for the purpose. He tried to fell trees for a raft by burning them at the base, but was not successful. Indeed he came near to setting the woods on fire and so destroying his only shelter. There was no game of any kind, not even gulls, and he had no line or net for fishing. Roots and bark were his only food. As a flag of distress, he fastened one of his undergarments to a bare limbed tree. He did not know that the land he could see from his island was Minong, but supposed himself to be somewhere near the northwest shore of the lake. Though it was late in the season, he hoped that some passing voyageur or Indian might see the signal. If no one saw it, then he knew he must perish, and he resigned himself to God's will, though he admitted that he could not but feel regret that the work he had but just begun should be cut off so soon.

When the Cree appeared, Father Bertrand did not like his looks, for there was a furtive fierceness in his manner that betokened treachery and a wildness in his eye that suggested madness, but the priest hoped nevertheless that this doubtful looking savage might prove the instrument of his rescue. The Cree told him that he was not near the northwest shore, as he had supposed, but off the island of Minong. On the offer of a generous reward, he promised to take the missionary to Grande Portage. But even greed was not strong enough to overcome the Windigo's appetite. The canoe he had left on the beach contained no provisions of any kind, so it was evident that he had either consumed all of his gruesome stock or had lost part of it in some way. The guns had been lost too, or thrown away as useless when the ammunition was gone, for he was armed only with a knife.

When the missionary had finished his tale, the two boys told him theirs. They made no attempt to hide the purpose of their adventure, for they instinctively trusted the grave, fine faced priest. That he could betray their trust did not occur even to Ronald who had no particular love for Jesuits, though he admired their courage and devotion. When Jean related how the three had been obliged to give up the search at last, and frankly expressed his regret and sorrow at their failure to find the golden island, Nangotook interrupted suddenly.

"Nay, little brother," he exclaimed. "You say the journey has failed because we have not reached the Island of Yellow Sands. It is not so. If we had not come on this journey, we could not have saved the life of the good Father, and he would have starved here on this island. Is not the saving of one good life better than the finding of much gold?"

"You are right, Etienne," replied Jean, flushing, ashamed that the Indian should have to teach him such a lesson.

The priest smiled in a kindly manner upon them both, then said gravely to the Ojibwa, "You speak well, my son, and I think you have grasped somewhat of the teachings of the fathers who gave you your education. It is true that you have just performed a deed of violence, but it was a necessary deed, and one that will bring reward and not punishment, for you slew not in revenge or in lust or even to save your own life, but the life of another. Rest assured that God will bless you for the deed, and, as for myself, I will give you such material reward as I am able."

"I want no reward, Father," Etienne answered almost indignantly. "I did not sell you your life. I only ask," he added more humbly, "that you will remember a poor Ojibwa in your prayers."

"Rest assured that I shall always do that," Father Bertrand replied earnestly. "I will pray that God's mercy and blessing and guidance may be with you and with these two lads, all the days of your lives."

The four were silent for a few minutes, the boys and the Indian deeply impressed by the Jesuit's words and manner. Then the priest turned to Jean and said questioningly, "You have not told me, my son, why you and your companion are so eager to find gold. In youths of your age desire for honor, achievement and glory seems more natural than a longing for riches. Take care that you do not let the sin of avarice possess your souls."

"Indeed it is not avarice, Father," replied Jean. Eager to justify both himself and his companion, he told of the plans they had made for the use of the gold.

Father Bertrand listened thoughtfully, and when Jean had finished, said with a kindly smile that seemed to light up his stern face, "Your reasons do you credit, especially yours, Jean Havard, since you seek wealth for others rather than for yourself. But your comrade's ambition is also a justifiable one, if he use only right means to attain it. Your dislike of the evil methods of the fur-traders and your hesitation in following them are a credit to your consciences. It may be that the trade is necessary and legitimate, but I, myself, have learned, in the short time that I have been in the Indian country, that there is much in the manner of carrying on that trade that is wrong and evil and will bring heavy punishment both on the traders themselves and on the savages they corrupt. However, it is not of the fur-trade I intended to speak, but of your own fortunes. You are disappointed that you have not found the gold, but perhaps I can show you something that may allay that disappointment, and bring to you some increase of fortune if not the great riches you have been seeking."

With that the missionary rose and led the way through the patch of woods towards the farther end of the island, which the lads had not visited. Curious about his meaning, they followed close at his heels.

That end of the island, which was exposed to the wind and waves of the open lake, rose high from the water and, except for a cluster of trees in a depression, was almost bare rock. The clump of trees had fared hard in the northeaster, for several had been broken off and one, the largest spruce on the island, had been uprooted and tipped over. The priest climbed over a tangle of fallen trunks, holding up his black gown that it might not catch in the branches. The boys followed wondering. He pointed to the base of the uprooted spruce. The roots had grown about a large boulder, and, in its fall, the tree had partly overturned the rock, revealing its under side.

The lads gave gasps of astonishment and dropped on their knees beside the boulder. The exposed surface was of almost solid copper, but that was not what caused their exclamation. Through the copper ran two thick veins of another, lighter colored metal.

"Silver, pure silver," exclaimed Ronald. The veins so recently exposed had scarcely tarnished, and there was no mistaking the metal.

"Yes," replied the priest. "It is silver and that is not all of it. Look in the hollow there, and you will find other veins. Indeed I have spent some time examining these rocks, and I believe there is much of the metal near the surface. How much there may be underneath no man can tell. It may be there is wealth here, though not such wealth as your golden island would yield. What there is is yours, however. I, the discoverer, will freely make over to you all my rights in it. I know little of metals. Perhaps it would be well for you to examine this end of the island for yourselves before you leave it. You will probably be able to learn more from it than I could."

XXXIII

THE MINE

The two lads made as thorough an examination of the bare end of the island as they could without pick or drill. A vein with side branches, which Ronald was sure was composed of pure silver, ran the length of the barren end. Whether the vein extended under the woods the full length of the island, they could not tell, but as they traced it to the very edge of the growth, its further extension seemed almost certain. Through the clear water off the outer end of the island, they could see on the rock bottom black patches with a greenish tinge, that Ronald believed marked the course of the vein in that direction. In the canoe they followed those patches until the water became so deep that they could trace them no longer. Both boys were sure they had found a valuable mine, and they were nearly as excited and enthusiastic as if they had come upon the Island of Golden Sands itself. Their failure to find the gold, and the hardships and perils of their long trip, with its heart-breaking delays and disappointments, were almost forgotten in the joy of this sudden and unexpected discovery. Silver was not gold to be sure, but it was the next thing to it, as Jean said. The journey had not been fruitless or in vain. They had saved the life of Father Bertrand, and, as Nangotook had said, "the saving of one good life was better than much gold," and through the priest they had found a rich silver mine. They had come off well from the adventure, and if they could reach Grande Portage safely, they would have good cause to be well satisfied and profoundly thankful. So it was with light hearts that they launched the two canoes and prepared to put off for the shore of Minong.

The day was too far advanced and the wind too strong to make a start for Grande Portage advisable, but none of the four wanted to camp on the little island, where bad weather, if there should be more of it in store for them, would leave them marooned. As Jean said, they could not eat silver, no matter how rich the mine might be. So they paddled part way up a deep harbor that cut into the end of Minong, and camped on its shore. They found both the fishing and hunting good, and had no difficulty occupying their time for the rest of the day.

The wind went down in the night, and the next day dawned calm, bright and frosty, a fine autumn morning, the best possible weather to traverse the open lake. Firm ice over the shallower water along shore, the evergreens gleaming with white frost, and the sight of a hare whose coat was almost wholly white, were warnings to the travelers that real winter was not far away. Indeed the snow and ice of the last northeaster had not melted in the shady places, and the weather was constantly growing colder.

They started early, after a hearty but hasty breakfast. They had discussed taking both canoes, but had decided they could make better time with one. So they selected the boat they had made themselves, as it was better built and slightly larger than the one Le Forgeron and the Cree had used. Their own boat had been intended for only three people and was well filled with four, but their baggage took up little space. Their possessions, besides the supply of dried meat, consisted of nothing but the caribou hide, some hare skins, their bows and arrows, and a small bundle containing the priest's vestments and the necessary articles for celebrating the mass. In high spirits they paddled out into the open lake, blades keeping time to

"La fill' du roi d'Espagne,
Vogue, marinier, vogue."

The fact that all went so well that day Jean laid to the rescue of the priest and his presence in the canoe. Etienne agreed with this view, but probably felt also, though he did not give expression to the thought, that the spirits of the lake had ceased to oppose them, now that they had definitely given up the search for the golden sands and had turned towards the shore. Apparently he did not trouble his mind with the thought that the manitos might feel any concern over the silver mine.

Whatever causes the different members of the party might assign for their good fortune, everything surely went successfully. The breeze remained light, the sky blue, during the whole of the trip to the northwest shore, and along its bays, points and islands to the Grande Portage. They reached their destination before night, and caused great surprise when they paddled through the bay and up to the shore in front of the trading post of the Northwest Fur Company, the same post the two lads had left, with the fleet bound for Montreal, so many long weeks before.

The boys had decided before reaching the Portage just how much of their adventures they would tell, and what they would leave untold. Accordingly they said nothing whatever of the Island of the Yellow Sands or of the silver ore they had found. They had made the trip, they admitted, in search of a rich island mine they had heard of, but, not knowing its exact location, they had failed to find it. They made no mention of gold, leaving the others to infer that it was copper or silver they had been seeking. They told of seeing Le Forgeron Tordu and his Cree companion and of the fate of both, but did not indicate in any way that the Frenchman had been in pursuit of them or had tried to injure them. They left out of their narrative Etienne's captivity and the burning of the woods on the island. As Ronald said, "The man is dead and his fate was a horrible one. Why blacken his memory now that it can do us no good? Unless we should be charged with his death, and that is not likely, we do not need to be telling the whole of the story."

A swift Indian messenger was leaving the post early next morning with reports and letters for Montreal, and the boys seized the opportunity to write to their relatives and tell them of their safety. For the two lads to accompany the messenger was out of the question, for the Indians and half-breeds, who made the mail trips for the Company, went at such a pace and with such tirelessness that no one untrained for the work could possibly keep up with them. Indeed no one messenger could go the whole distance at such speed. The mail changed hands at each post, fresh men carrying it on. Even had the lads not been tired and worn with their long trip, and with the starvation and exposure they had endured, they would have found the journey with the messengers impossible. There was nothing for them to do but to await a more favorable opportunity.

That opportunity did not come. Rain and high winds arrived before a start could be made, and the bad weather was followed by real winter, that set in early in November, "the freezing moon," as Nangotook called it. The lads soon realized that they had made the crossing from Minong just in time. Had they delayed longer, they could not have reached Grande Portage until the lake froze over between Minong and the shore. Some winters solid ice did not form clear across, and even when it did, crossing on snowshoes, with the winds sweeping the ice, and a blinding storm liable to come at any moment, was a perilous undertaking. Jean and Ronald shuddered when they thought what a winter on Minong, without warm clothes, food supplies or ammunition, would mean. They were lucky indeed to have reached the trading post.

Father Bertrand was due at an Indian mission on the south shore, and insisted on trying to reach it. He succeeded in engaging a canoe and four Indians to make the trip, but he positively refused to take the boys with him. Even after they reached his destination, it was not likely, he said, that they could find any one willing to go on with them to the Sault. The mission was probably not any too well supplied with food, and he could not carry enough extra, traveling rapidly in his small canoe, to feed the two lads throughout the winter. The Indians who wintered near the mission might be well supplied and they might not. That depended on the fishing and the wild rice crop. Often famine came upon them before spring. At the Portage there were ample accommodations and supplies, and the boys would be far better off. Etienne agreed with the missionary and urged the lads to remain. As far as he was concerned he would be glad, he said, to accompany them back to the Sault and even to Montreal, but he counseled them not to attempt the journey, which would be one of extreme hardship, if they were able to get through at all. So on his advice, and that of the men at the post, the boys decided to remain where they were until spring. At the first lull in the bad weather, the brave priest bade the lads farewell, gave them his blessing and started on his dangerous journey.

A number of weeks after the departure of the priest, when winter had settled down in earnest, a half-breed messenger, starved, frozen, almost dead, arrived with letters from Montreal and the other posts. The man had had a terrible time getting through, and when the boys heard his tale they were glad they had remained at the Portage. He brought Jean letters from his father and mother, and Ronald one from his uncle. Since the necessity for strenuous action had ceased, the two boys had grown very homesick, especially Jean, who had been tormented with the fear that something might have gone wrong with his father, mother or sisters during his absence. The letters, showing plainly the anxiety those at home had been enduring for months, served to deepen the two lads' sense of wrong-doing. When word had arrived of their disappearance from the Sault, both Ronald's uncle and Jean's father had done everything possible to find them or learn their fate. They had gone to the Sault, but had found only one clue. Jean's father learned that Etienne had been at the post the same day the lads disappeared, and felt a little comforted, surmising that Jean might have gone away with the Ojibwa on a hunting expedition or for some other purpose. But he was at a loss to understand why the lad had kept such a trip secret. Nevertheless the elder Havard asserted that he was not going to give up hope until he found the Indian and learned definitely that the boys were not with him. His search for Nangotook was fruitless, of course, but he became more and more convinced that they must have left the post together, for what purpose he could not imagine. Word was sent to all the Northwest Company's posts to be on the lookout for some trace of the three. Only one bit of information was obtained, however. An Indian, a Man of the Woods, and his family, who arrived at the trading station at the Pic River, told of having met a canoe, going west, with three men who answered in a general way to the descriptions of Nangotook, Jean and Ronald. Shortly after the arrival of these Gens de Terre Indians, news reached the Pic of a deed of violence that had occurred in a small bay farther to the west. A half-breed trapper had been attacked and his furs stolen. Two Indians entering the bay late at night had found the body of a man lodged on a sand-bar. In spite of the fact that he had been stabbed in several places and then thrown into the water, he was alive, though unconscious. The Indians had carried him in their canoe to the Pic, where he had recovered consciousness and had told how he had been attacked by two men, an Indian and a white man with a twisted leg. From the half-breed's description, the agent at the Pic was sure the white man must have been Le Forgeron Tordu, who was wanted by the Company for breaking his contract and deserting the fleet. When Ronald's uncle, who had learned from Big Benoît of the lad's fight with Le Forgeron, heard that the Blacksmith had deserted a few miles beyond the Sault and was back on Superior, he wondered if there was any connection between that fact and the disappearance of the boys, and his fears for Ronald were increased. When week followed week with no further news, the anxious relatives almost gave up hope, and Jean's mother became ill from grief and anxiety.

The wrong the boys had done in stealing away secretly on their mad quest, without telling any one where they were going or leaving some word to allay the anxiety of those at home, had been strongly impressed upon them by Father Bertrand. Grateful though he was to them for his rescue, he did not let that gratitude interfere with a severe reprimand of their wrong-doing. Because God had brought good out of evil and had allowed them to serve Him by saving the life of one of His servants, they need not think, he reminded them sternly, that what they had done was right or that their sin was forgiven or would be forgiven until they had made all the amends possible. God had been merciful to them, said the priest, because they were ignorant, foolish and thoughtless lads, but if they did not profit in the future by the lesson of this experience, it was not likely He would be so patient with them again. So earnestly did he talk to them, that both acknowledged their wrong-doing, and admitted that they had not deserved to come through their adventure so well. The letters from home only strengthened their feelings of regret at what they had done, and Jean especially made up his mind to make up to his mother, for her suffering on his account, in every way that a loving son could.

In their letters the lads had told of the discovery of the silver and Ronald had sent his uncle a bit of the ore, with many injunctions to the messenger not to lose the little package. In his reply the uncle said that the bit of metal had proved to be high grade silver, and that from Ronald's description he thought the mine might be a rich one. He had talked the matter over with Monsieur Havard, and the latter had agreed to accompany him to the Grande Portage in the spring. The boys were instructed to wait for them. The uncle would bring with him an expert in metals and the necessary tools for prospecting. He would obtain the Northwest Company's permission to use one of their sailing vessels for the short trip across to Minong, or, if he failed to get such permission, they would cross in canoes. They would make a thorough examination of the little island and its surroundings, and if the prospects looked good, they would get the necessary government permission, and form a mining company in which the two Havards, Ronald, his uncle and the Indian should have the largest shares. They would also put aside a share of the profits for Father Bertrand, who had so generously waived all rights to his discovery. If he would not take the money for his personal needs, he would at least be willing to accept it to carry on his work among the Indians.

Jean and Ronald were enthusiastic over the plan, and, in spite of the waves of homesickness that swept over the former every time he looked at his mother's letter and thought of the many miles of wilderness between him and his home, the two settled down for the winter with high hopes of the fortune the spring was to bring. In the meantime they were glad to be of what help they could to the clerks at the post, while their spare time could be passed in hunting in the snow-covered woods or fishing with nets or lines set under the ice. In such ways the winter, though it looked long ahead of them, would wear away at last, and spring would bring the returning fleet and with it the other partners in their mining venture, the exploration of their find, the trip home again and preparations for working the silver mine. If the winter days dragged slowly sometimes, there was, at least, much to look forward to.

THE END

THE BOMBA BOOKS

By ROY ROCKWOOD

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. With Colored jacket._

_Price 50 cents per volume. Postage 10 cents additional._

_Bomba lived far back in the jungles of the Amazon with a half-demented naturalist who told the lad nothing of his past. The jungle boy was a lover of birds, and hunted animals with a bow and arrow and his trusty machete. He had a primitive education in some things, and his daring adventures will be followed with breathless interest by thousands._

1. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY
2. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AT THE MOVING MOUNTAIN
3. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AT THE GIANT CATARACT
4. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY ON JAGUAR ISLAND
5. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY IN THE ABANDONED CITY
6. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY ON TERROR TRAIL
7. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY IN THE SWAMP OF DEATH
8. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AMONG THE SLAVES
9. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY ON THE UNDERGROUND RIVER
10. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AND THE LOST EXPLORERS
11. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY IN A STRANGE LAND
12. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AMONG THE PYGMIES
13. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AND THE CANNIBALS
14. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AND THE PAINTED HUNTERS

These books may be purchased wherever books are sold

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

THE JEWEL SERIES

By AMES THOMPSON

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in color._

_Price 50 cents per volume._

_Postage 10 cents additional._

_A series of stories brimming with hardy adventure, vivid and accurate in detail, and with a good foundation of probability. They take the reader realistically to the scene of action. Besides being lively and full of real situations, they are written in a straightforward way very attractive to boy readers._

1. THE ADVENTURE BOYS _and the_ VALLEY OF DIAMONDS

In this book they form a party of five, and with the aid of a shrewd, level-headed sailor named Stanley Green, they find a valley of diamonds in the heart of Africa.

2. THE ADVENTURE BOYS _and the_ RIVER OF EMERALDS

With a guide, they set out to find the River of Emeralds. But masked foes, emeralds, and falling mountains are all in the day's fun for these Adventure Boys.

3. THE ADVENTURE BOYS _and the_ LAGOON OF PEARLS

This time the group starts out on a cruise simply for pleasure, but their adventuresome spirits lead them into the thick of things on a South Sea cannibal island.

4. THE ADVENTURE BOYS _and the_ TEMPLE OF RUBIES

The Adventure Boys find plenty of thrills when they hit the ruby trail, and soon discover that they are marked by some sinister influence to keep them from reaching the Ruby.

5. THE ADVENTURE BOYS _and the_ ISLAND OF SAPPHIRES

The paths of the young jewel hunters lead to a mysterious island where the treasures are concealed.

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES

By LESTER CHADWICK

_12mo. Illustrated. Price 50 cents per volume._

_Postage 10 cents additional._

1. BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS
_or The Rivals of Riverside_
2. BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE
_or Pitching for the Blue Banner_
3. BASEBALL JOE AT YALE
_or Pitching for the College Championship_
4. BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE
_or Making Good as a Professional Pitcher_
5. BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE
_or A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles_
6. BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS
_or Making Good as a Twirler in the Metropolis_
7. BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES
_or Pitching for the Championship_
8. BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD
_or Pitching on a Grand Tour_
9. BASEBALL JOE: HOME RUN KING
_or The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Record_
10. BASEBALL JOE SAVING THE LEAGUE
_or Breaking Up a Great Conspiracy_
11. BASEBALL JOE CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM
_or Bitter Struggles on the Diamond_
12. BASEBALL JOE CHAMPION OF THE LEAGUE
_or The Record that was Worth While_
13. BASEBALL JOE CLUB OWNER
_or Putting the Home Town on the Map_
14. BASEBALL JOE PITCHING WIZARD
_or Triumphs Off and On the Diamond_

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

ADVENTURE STORIES FOR BOYS

By JOHN GABRIEL ROWE

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Colored Jacket._

_Price 50 cents per volume._

_Postage 10 cents additional._

_Every boy who knows the lure of exploring and who loves to rig up huts and caves and tree-houses to fortify himself against imaginary enemies will enjoy these books, for they give a vivid chronicle of the doings and inventions of a group of boys who are ship-wrecked and have to make themselves snug and safe in tropical islands where the dangers are too real for play._

1. CRUSOE ISLAND

Dick, Alf and Fred find themselves stranded on an unknown island with the old seaman Josh, their ship destroyed by fire, their friends lost.

2. THE ISLAND TREASURE

With much ingenuity these boys fit themselves into the wild life of the island they are cast upon in storm.

3. THE MYSTERY OF THE DERELICT

Their ship and companions perished in tempest at sea, the boys are adrift in a small open boat when they spy a ship. Such a strange vessel!--no hand guiding it, no soul on board,--a derelict.

4. THE LIGHTSHIP PIRATES

Modern Pirates, with the ferocity of beasts, attack a lightship crew;--recounting the adventures that befall the survivors of that crew--and--"RETRIBUTION."

5. THE SECRET OF THE GOLDEN IDOL

Telling of a mutiny, and how two youngsters were unwillingly involved in one of the weirdest of treasure hunts,--and--"THE GOLDEN FETISH."

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Cupples & Leon Company, Publishers New York

THE BOY HUNTERS SERIES

By CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL

_12mo. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors. Price 50 cents per volume. Postage 10 cents additional._

_Captain Ralph Bonehill is one of the best known and most popular writers for young people. In this series he shows, as no other writer can, the joy, glory and happiness of outdoor life._

FOUR BOY HUNTERS

_or The Outing of the Gun Club_

A fine, breezy story of the woods and waters, of adventures in search of game, and of great times around the campfire, told in Captain Bonehill's best style. In the book are given full directions for camping out.

GUNS AND SNOWSHOES

_or The Winter Outing of the Young Hunters_

In this volume the young hunters leave home for a winter outing on the shores of a small lake. They hunt and trap to their hearts' content and have adventures in plenty, all calculated to make boys "sit up and take notice." A good healthy book; one with the odor of the pine forests and the glare of the welcome campfire in every chapter.

YOUNG HUNTERS OF THE LAKE

_or Out with Rod and Gun_

Another tale of woods and waters, with some strong hunting scenes and a good deal of mystery. The three volumes make a splendid outdoor series.

OUT WITH GUN AND CAMERA

_or The Boy Hunters in the Mountains_

Takes up the new fad of photographing wild animals as well as shooting them. An escaped circus chimpanzee and an escaped lion add to the interest of the narrative.

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

THE BOB DEXTER SERIES

By WILLARD F. BAKER Author of "THE BOY RANCHERS SERIES"

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in colors. Price 50 cents per volume. Postage 10 cents additional._

_This is a new line of stories for boys, by the author of the Boy Ranchers series. The Bob Dexter books are detective stories, yet they are without the objectionable features of the impossible characters and absurd situations that mark so many of the books in that class. These stories deal with the up-to-date adventures of a normal, healthy lad who has a great desire to solve mysteries, and the volumes relate in an entertaining way how he does it._

1. BOB DEXTER AND THE CLUB-HOUSE MYSTERY

_or The Missing Golden Eagle_

This story tells how the Boys' Athletic Club was despoiled of its trophies in a strange manner, and how, among other things stolen, was the Golden Eagle mascot.

2. BOB DEXTER AND THE BEACON BEACH MYSTERY

_or The Wreck of the Sea Hawk_

When Bob and his chum went to Beacon Beach for their vacation, they were plunged into a strange series of events, not the least of which was the sinking of the Sea Hawk.

3. BOB DEXTER AND THE STORM MOUNTAIN MYSTERY

_or The Secret of the Log Cabin_

Bob Dexter came upon a man mysteriously injured and befriended him. This led the young detective into the swirling midst of a series of strange events and into the companionship of strange persons.

4. BOB DEXTER AND THE AEROPLANE MYSTERY

_or The Secret of the Jint San_

Bob and his chums witness the mysterious disappearance of an aeroplane and find excitement in their exploration of an unknown cave. The adventures which result are packed with thrills.

5. BOB DEXTER AND THE SEAPLANE MYSTERY

_or The Secret of the White Stones_

Bob Dexter, while on a vacation, captures a band of criminals, and solves a mystery in which millions of dollars in gems and jewelry had been stolen.

6. BOB DEXTER AND THE RED AUTO MYSTERY

_or The Secret of the Flying Car_

A story of a mysterious red auto is packed with many hair-raising adventures. Bob comes to the rescue and captures the criminals.

These books may be purchased wherever books are sold

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES

By CLARENCE YOUNG

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors._

_Price 50 cents per volume. Postage 10 cents additional._

_Bright up-to-date stories, full of information as well as of adventures. Read the first volume and you will want all the others written by Mr. Young._

1. THE MOTOR BOYS
2. THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND
3. THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO
4. THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS
5. THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT
6. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC
7. THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS
8. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC
9. THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS
10. THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE ROCKIES
11. THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE OCEAN
12. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE WING
13. THE MOTOR BOYS AFTER A FORTUNE
14. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE BORDER
15. THE MOTOR BOYS UNDER THE SEA
16. THE MOTOR BOYS ON ROAD AND RIVER

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

Jerry Ford Wonder Stories

By FENWORTH MOORE

A new series with plenty of action and adventure. It is lively and full of real situations that relate in an entertaining way how Jerry Ford overcame his obstacles.

12 mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in Colors.

Price, per volume, 50 cents. Postage 10 cents additional

1. WRECKED ON CANNIBAL ISLAND

Or Jerry Ford's Adventures Among Savages

Jerry Ford's inheritance was stolen by an unscrupulous lawyer, and he had many thrilling adventures before the thief was finally captured.

2. LOST IN THE CAVES OF GOLD

Or Jerry Ford Among the Mountains of Mystery

The finding of the trunks in which the stolen fortune was hidden, and the discovery of a Pirate's treasure in some underground caves.

3. CASTAWAY IN THE LAND OF SNOW

Or Jerry Ford Among the Polar Bears

While returning home with the treasure, the ship is captured by pirates in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Plenty of action and excitement follows.

4. PRISONERS ON THE PIRATE SHIP

Or Jerry Ford and the Yellow Men

This story offers a thrill in a life time. Jerry Ford, and his pals, recapture the pirate ship and again secure their missing treasure.

These books may be purchased wherever books are sold

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

THE BOY RANCHERS SERIES

By WILLARD F. BAKER

AUTHOR OF "THE BOB DEXTER SERIES"

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors._

_Price 50 cents per volume. Postage 10 cents additional._

_Stories of the Great West, with cattle ranches as a setting, related in such a style as to captivate the hearts of all boys. Attention has been paid to accurate descriptions of western customs, and in each volume there is, as a background, some definite historical or scientific fact of value, about which the tales hinge._

1. THE BOY RANCHERS

_or Solving the Mystery at Diamond X_

2. THE BOY RANCHERS IN CAMP

_or the Water Fight at Diamond X_

3. THE BOY RANCHERS ON THE TRAIL

_or The Diamond X After Cattle Rustlers_

4. THE BOY RANCHERS AMONG THE INDIANS

_or Trailing the Yaquis_

5. THE BOY RANCHERS AT SPUR CREEK

_or Fighting the Sheep Herders_

6. THE BOY RANCHERS IN THE DESERT

_or Diamond X and the Lost Mine_

7. THE BOY RANCHERS ON ROARING RIVER

_or Diamond X and the Chinese Smugglers_

8. THE BOY RANCHERS IN DEATH VALLEY

_or Diamond X and the Poison Mystery_

9. THE BOY RANCHERS IN TERROR CANYON

_or Diamond X Winning Out_

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

THE GREAT MARVEL SERIES

By ROY ROCKWOOD

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in Colors._

_Price, per volume, 50 cents._

_Postage 10 cents extra._

_Since the days of Jules Verne, tales of flying machines and submarine boats have enjoyed increasing popularity. Stories of adventures, in strange places, with peculiar people and queer animals, make this series noteworthy and popular._

1. THROUGH THE AIR TO THE NORTH POLE