The Wolf Hunters & The Sequel - The Gold Hunters (Illustrated Edition). James Oliver Curwood

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СКАЧАТЬ to stop beating, his blood thrilled—and in another instant he was running down the path like a deer. Twenty rods beyond this point the path entered an opening in the forest made by a great fire, and half-way across this opening the youth saw a sight which chilled him to the marrow. There was Minnetaki, her long hair tumbling loosely down her back, a cloth tied around her head—and on either side an Indian dragging her swiftly toward the opposite forest!

      For as long as he might have drawn three breaths Rod stood transfixed with horror. Then his senses returned to him, and every muscle in his body seemed to bound with action. For days he had been practising with his revolver and it was now in the holster at his side. Should he use it? Or might he hit Minnetaki? At his feet he saw a club and snatching this up he sped across the opening, the soft earth holding the sound of his steps. When he was a dozen feet behind the Indians Minnetaki stumbled in a sudden effort to free herself, and as one of her captors half turned to drag her to her feet he saw the enraged youth, club uplifted, bearing down upon them like a demon. A terrific yell from Rod, a warning cry from the Indian, and the fray began. With crushing force, the boy's club fell upon the shoulder of the second Indian, and before he could recover from the delivery of this blow the youth was caught in a choking, deadly grip by the other from behind.

      Freed by the sudden attack, Minnetaki tore away the cloth that bound her eyes and mouth. As quick as a flash she took in the situation. At her feet the wounded Indian was half rising, and upon the ground near him, struggling in close embrace, were Rod and the other. She saw the Indian's fatal grip upon her preserver's throat, the whitening face and wide-open eyes, and with a great, sobbing cry she caught up the fallen club and brought it down with all her strength upon the redskin's head. Twice, three times the club rose and fell, and the grip on Rod's throat relaxed. A fourth time it rose, but this time was caught from behind, and a huge hand clutched the brave girl's throat so that the cry on her lips died in a gasp. But the relief gave Rod his opportunity. With a tremendous effort he reached his pistol holster, drew out the gun, and pressed it close up against his assailant's body. There was a muffled report and with a shriek of agony the Indian pitched backward. Hearing the shot and seeing the effect upon his comrade, the second Indian released his hold on Minnetaki and ran for the forest. Rod, seeing Minnetaki fall in a sobbing, frightened heap, forgot all else but to run to her, smooth back her hair and comfort her with all of the assurances at his boyish command.

      It was here that Wabi and the old Indian guide found them five minutes later. Hearing Rod's first piercing yell of attack, they had raced into the forest, afterward guided by the two or three shrill screams which Minnetaki had unconsciously emitted during the struggle. Close behind them, smelling trouble, followed two of the Post employees.

      The attempted abduction of Wabi's sister, Rod's heroic rescue and the death of one of the captors, who was recognized as one of Woonga's men, caused a seven-day sensation at the Post.

      There was now no thought of leaving on the part of the young wolf hunters. It was evident that Woonga was again in the neighborhood, and Wabi and Rod, together with a score of Indians and hunters, spent days in scouring the forests and swamps. But the Woongas disappeared as suddenly as they came. Not until Wabi had secured a promise from Minnetaki that she would no longer go into the forests unaccompanied did the Indian youth again allow himself to take up their interrupted plans.

      Minnetaki had been within easy calling distance of help when the Woongas, without warning, sprang upon her, smothered her attempted cries and dragged her away, compelling her to walk alone over the soft earth where Rod had seen her footsteps, so that any person who followed might suppose she was alone and safe. This fact stirred the dozen white families at the Post into aggressive action, and four of the most skillful Indian track-hunters in the service were detailed to devote themselves exclusively to hunting down the outlaws, their operations not to include a territory extending more than twenty miles from Wabinosh House in any direction. With these precautions it was believed that no harm could come to Minnetaki or other young girls of the Post.

      It was, therefore, on a Monday, the fourth day of November, that Rod, Wabi and Mukoki turned their faces at last to the adventures that awaited them in the great North.

CHAPTER IV

      RODERICK'S FIRST TASTE OF THE HUNTER'S LIFE

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      By this time it was bitter cold. The lakes and rivers were frozen deep and a light snow covered the ground. Already two weeks behind their plans, the young wolf hunters and the old Indian made forced marches around the northern extremity of Lake Nipigon and on the sixth day found themselves on the Ombabika River, where they were compelled to stop on account of a dense snow-storm. A temporary camp was made, and it was while constructing this camp that Mukoki discovered signs of wolves. It was therefore decided to remain for a day or two and investigate the hunting-grounds. On the morning of the second day Wabi shot at and wounded the old bull moose which met such a tragic end a few hours later, and that same morning the two boys made a long tour to the north in the hope of finding that they were in a good game country, which would mean also that there were plenty of wolves.

      This left Mukoki alone in camp. Thus far, in their desire to cover as much ground as possible before the heavy snows came, Wabi and his companions had not stopped to hunt for game and for six days their only meat had been bacon and jerked venison. Mukoki, whose prodigious appetite was second only to the shrewdness with which he stalked game to satisfy it, determined to add to their larder if possible during the others' absence, and with this object in view he left camp late in the afternoon to be gone, as he anticipated, not longer than an hour or so.

      With him he carried two powerful wolf-traps slung over his shoulders. Stealing cautiously along the edge of the river, his eyes and ears alert for game, Mukoki suddenly came upon the frozen and half-eaten carcass of a red deer. It was evident that the animal had been killed by wolves either the day or night before, and from the tracks in the snow the Indian concluded that not more than four wolves had participated in the slaughter and feast. That these wolves would return to continue their banquet, probably that night, Mukoki's many experiences as a wolf hunter assured him; and he paused long enough to set his traps, afterward covering them over with three or four inches of snow.

      Continuing his hunt, the old Indian soon struck the fresh spoor of a deer. Believing that the animal would not travel for any great distance in the deep snow, he swiftly took up the trail. Half a mile farther on he stopped abruptly with a grunt of unbounded surprise. Another hunter had taken up the trail!

      With increased caution Mukoki now advanced. Two hundred feet more and a second pair of moccasined feet joined in the pursuit, and a little later still a third!

      Led on by curiosity more than by the hope of securing a partnership share in the quarry, the Indian slipped silently and swiftly through the forest. As he emerged from a dense growth of spruce through which the tracks led him Mukoki was treated to another surprise by almost stumbling over the carcass of the deer he had been following. A brief examination satisfied him that the doe had been shot at least two hours before. The three hunters had cut out her heart, liver and tongue and had also taken the hind quarters, leaving the remainder of the carcass and the skin! Why had they neglected this most valuable part of their spoils? With a new gleam of interest in his eyes Mukoki carefully scrutinized the moccasin trails. He soon discovered that the Indians ahead of him were in great haste, and that after cutting the choicest meat from the doe they had started off to make up for lost time by running!

      With another grunt of astonishment the old Indian returned to the carcass, quickly stripped off the skin, wrapped in it the fore quarters and ribs of the doe, and thus loaded, took up the home trail. It was dark when he reached camp. Wabi and Rod had not yet returned. Building a huge fire and hanging the ribs of the doe on a spit before it, he anxiously awaited their appearance.

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