Grit A-Plenty Part 26

David and Andy had learned their lesson. They had no intention of becoming s...o...b..ind again if it could be avoided. And so, while they waited for Andy's feet to heal, they fashioned, each for himself, a pair of goggles, after the manner of those worn by Sa-peesh and his family.

These goggles were made from round pieces of wood, hollowed out like sh.e.l.ls and large enough to cover the eyes comfortably, with the hollows whittled deep enough to permit the eyelids to open and close within them. Two of these were fastened together the proper distance apart to fit the eyes, with a piece of buckskin. In the bottom of each hollow a narrow slit was cut lengthwise of the goggle. Through this slit the wearer was to look. The interior of the hollow was blacked with charcoal from the fire. A buckskin thong fastened to the outer edge of each of the goggles, and tied behind the head, kept them in place.

At length Andy declared that his feet were well enough healed to permit him to return to the trails. Both he and David were anxious to resume their work, for the trapping season was nearing its close. They wished, also, to satisfy Indian Jake's anxiety as to their safety, for they had no doubt he was anxious, and possibly much troubled and mystified at their long absence.

There was much regret in the wigwam of Sa-peesh, and loudly did Sa-peesh and Mrs. Sa-peesh, and especially A-mish-ku and Ni-pit-se lament that the visit should have been so short. It is the custom of Indian women to bestow gifts upon friends setting out upon a journey.

This is a pleasant and profitable custom for the friends, and the women believe that the spirits will bless the giver with much good fortune, and thus they are themselves amply recompensed.

Accordingly, when David and Andy made ready for departure on a bright April morning, Mrs. Sa-peesh presented each with a bladder filled with marrow fat, and a quant.i.ty of jerked venison, while each received from Ni-pit-se a beautiful pair of bead-embroidered moccasins which she had made with her own hands.

And when they thanked Sa-peesh and everybody for all the kindness that had been shown them, and said farewell, the whole family came out before the wigwam to shout good wishes after them and to wave their hands to them, until the boys were quite out of their sight.

"We'll soon be findin' out, now, what Indian Jake thought when we didn't get t' th' Narrows, and 'twill be three weeks when we gets there Sat.u.r.day," remarked David.

"I wonders, now, what he thinks about un!" suggested Andy.

"He thinks we perished," said David, "and he's likely been up t'

Namaycush lookin' for us. 'Twill be a fine surprise to he when he comes back Sat.u.r.day."

"'Tis fine t' be alive!" exclaimed Andy, breathing the good pure air.

"'Tis that!" said David, "and t' have such a fine hunt t' take home.

Pop'll be wonderful pleased!"

"Won't he now!" Andy agreed. "It won't be much over a month, whatever, will it, Davy, before th' break up, and we can start for home?"

"No, th' last of May, _what_ever," said David, "and won't it be fine, Andy, t' go home with all th' furs? They's plenty, I _knows_, now, t'

pay for Jamie goin' t' have th' great doctor cure his eyes. Indian Jake said so, and he's a wonderful good judge. There's our share of his fur, too. And won't it be fine t' have Jamie see again as well as ever he did!"

"Won't it, now!" exclaimed Andy. "'Tis hard t' wait till th' time comes t' go!"

They were a long distance from the tilt. Walking as fast as ever they could, favoring Andy's sore feet, and with a stop only to boil the kettle at noon, it was near sundown when they saw the little log building scarcely visible above the drifts.

"There's no tracks about," said Andy, as they approached the door.

"If Indian Jake came up 'twas a week ago, whatever," suggested David.

"Th' snow since then covered his tracks. He was sure t' be lookin' for us when we didn't go t' th' Narrows."

This surmise was confirmed upon entering the tilt. The frying pan used by Indian Jake in cooking his dinner sat unwashed upon the stove, and there were other evidences of his visit. And the boys immediately missed the two marten skins which they had left there, and which the half-breed had taken.

"He were thinkin', now, we had perished, and so he took th' fur,"

David explained. "He were thinkin' t' take all our fur home t' Pop when he takes his, and he's feelin' dreadful bad about our bein'

dead."

"And won't he be glad when we gets t' th' Narrows!" exclaimed Andy.

"That he will!" said David. "'Twill be a fine surprise for he!"

The following morning, with light, expectant hearts, they set out for the Narrows, attending to their snow-clogged traps in the usual manner, and on Friday evening, highly excited at the expected surprise and pleasure of Indian Jake when they appeared, crossed the river ice opposite the tilt.

"He hasn't come yet," said David as they neared the tilt. "Th' snow fell since he left Monday, and there's no tracks where he's come back."

"We'll have a fire, and supper cookin' when he comes, an' won't he be surprised and glad t' see us!" exclaimed Andy.

And so, their hearts filled with the pleasure they antic.i.p.ated giving Indian Jake, they pushed open the door and entered the tilt. Then they stood aghast, and almost terror stricken.

The place gave unmistakable evidence of having been looted and abandoned. The furs were gone. The tent was not there, nor was the extra tent stove.

"He's gone!" exclaimed Andy, presently, a frightened look on his face.

"Gone!" echoed David. "And he's took all our furs!"

"What--will--Jamie do now?" and Andy was making a manly effort to restrain the tears.

"He'll go--blind!" and David, too, was on the point of tears.

"And--we--worked so hard t'--get th' furs t'--save his eyes!"

Neither of them felt like eating, but, by force of habit they lighted a fire in the stove, filled the kettle from the water hole at the lake, and prepared to cook their supper.

"They's no tea! And no flour! And no pork!" announced David after a search. "Indian Jake took all th' grub!"

"Took all th' grub!" exclaimed Andy.

"Aye, all th' grub!" David repeated.

"Whatever will we do now?" asked Andy in consternation.

"They's a bit of tea in our pack on th' toboggan. Unlash un and bring th' things right in, Andy," said David. "We have th' bladders of fat, and most of th' dried deer's meat th' Injuns gave us, and some hard bread left in th' bag too. We'll make out."

There were also three ptarmigans that Andy had shot during the day, and a rabbit they had taken from one of the traps. An inventory a.s.sured him that, so far as provisions were concerned, they would do very well indeed for the present.

"Indian Jake didn't take any grub out o' th' Halfway tilt or th'

Namaycush Lake tilt, either," said David, as the two stood contemplating their small stock of provisions. "What we has in th'

other tilts ain't much, but 'twill have t' do us till th' break up."

"'Twon't last till then!" objected Andy. "And even if it does we won't have any grub left t' eat on th' way home after th' break up."

"We'll have t' make out somehow," insisted David. "We'll fix un this way, Andy. Whilst I tends th' traps you'll hunt for pa'tridges and snare rabbits. With what you kills we'll make out, and save what's in th' tilts t' use goin' home."

"Th' huntin's about over, why can't we strike up and go now?" asked Andy.

"We can't do that," David objected. "We _has_ t' wait for th' break up t' take th' boat out. We can't take un out till th' lake and th' river gets free of ice. We'll _have_ t' take un, _what_ever, because Pop'll need un t' bring in his outfit when he comes back in th' fall t'

hunt."

"We'll have t' take th' tilt stove, too, to use in th' tent goin'

out," suggested Andy. "Indian Jake took th' tent stove."

"We won't need un," said David. "We won't have any tent. Indian Jake took un. We'll make out though. 'Twill be warm enough then, but 'tis a rainy time of year, and we'll have t' sleep wet of nights, without a tent or stove."