Northern Diamonds Part 13

For some time they reconnoitered the cabin cautiously. A faint glow shone through the skin window, but no sound either of man or dog could be heard within.

It would not be possible to introduce the fumigator through the door or window, and if it were lowered down the chimney, the draft would carry the gas out again. But Maurice recollected the hole he had patched in the roof; it could easily be opened again. He volunteered to set the "smoker" going.

This was really the most dangerous part of the undertaking, for a slight sound might bring out the ruffians, who would probably shoot without much hesitation. Maurice took off his snowshoes, and carrying the fumigator, plunged through the drifts toward the cabin.

Twenty yards away the party watched him from the thickets; Horace kept the door covered with his rifle. The snow had drifted so deep that Maurice climbed easily to the roof, crawled up the slope on hands and knees, groped about, and began to sc.r.a.pe away the snow.

A moment later, he drew out the deer-hide patch, peered down the hole, and then waved his hand rea.s.suringly toward the woods. He struck a match, lighted the spirit lamp, and then lowered the can cautiously by a string about a yard long.

In another minute he was back with his friends. "They're dead asleep,"

he said, joyfully. "I could hear them snore. The formaldehyde began to smell strong before I let it down. How long shall we leave it?"

"We don't want to kill them," said Horace.

"No danger," Peter remarked. "The draft from the big chimney will keep clearing the air. I'd leave it till all the stuff is vaporized--say, a couple of hours. The only thing I dread is that some one may wake up; but then, he wouldn't know what the smell was, and the spirit flame is so pale that it's almost invisible."

They watched the cabin intently. All remained deathly quiet. It was very cold as they crouched there in the snow. Horace kept his rifle ready, but finally his vigilance slackened. They walked about to keep from freezing, talked in whispers, and still watched the silent hut.

Suddenly Horace clutched Fred's arm.

"Look!" he cried. "The cabin's on fire!"

CHAPTER VIII

A thin stream of smoke was rising from the hole in the roof of the cabin. From the chimney volumes of vapor had suddenly begun to pour out into the moonlight. The dim glow at the window now and then flared up brightly.

"That spirit lamp must have set fire to something. Those men will be burned to death. Come, we must try to get them out!" Horace cried.

They rushed together to the cabin door. It was barricaded on the inside; they battered it with kicks and blows for a good half-minute, and at last it yielded.

A gush of smoke and suffocating fumes burst out into their faces, and the boys staggered back. The inside of the cabin appeared to be all in flames, but it was so obscured by smoke that they could see nothing clearly.

With the opening of the door the fire seemed to burn more fiercely. It seemed impossible that anything could be alive in that place; but Fred shut his eyes and dashed blindly in.

He stumbled over the body of a dog, and kicked it outside the door.

Choking with the smoke and the formaldehyde fumes, he took another step, and his foot struck something soft; it was the body of a man.

Fred stooped and tried to pick the body up by the shoulders. Suddenly through the smoke Peter appeared at his side, and helped him; together they got the man out and laid him down on the snow. He was one of the French Canadians, apparently lifeless.

"Is he dead?" gasped Fred to Macgregor, who bent over the prostrate form.

The medical student peered under the man's eyelids, and felt his wrist.

"No," he said, "he'll come round all right in the fresh air. It's the smoke more than the gas."

Horace came out at that moment, dragging Mitch.e.l.l's limp body. The red-bearded ruffian was alive, but unconscious; the boys placed him on the snow beside his companion. Then all four of them rushed into the cabin together, and succeeded in getting out the remaining two French Canadians.

"Now the dogs! We must get them out!" cried Peter. That was not hard to do, for the animals were lying close to the door.

The strong draft from the door to the chimney had by this time cleared the atmosphere a good deal, and the boys saw that the fire was burning chiefly among the couches of balsam boughs. The spirit lamp must have scorched through the cord by which it hung, and dropped into a heap of dry twigs.

The boys had no means of putting the fire out; the immediate need was to rescue the provisions. They rushed in again, and each dragged out an armful of supplies. They took a breath of fresh air, and then hastened in again. Fred was reaching for a slab of bacon, when suddenly something exploded almost under his hand.

He jumped back, almost fancying he had been shot at. _Crack! crack!

bang!_ went several other reports in quick succession, and this time he realized what it must be.

"Run! The ammunition's going off!" he shouted, and rushed for the open; as he ran, however, he caught up the piece of bacon.

Some of the rifle cartridges were exploding, one by one, and then two or three together, and suddenly, with a tremendous bang, a whole box seemed to go off.

Then the firing ceased, and after a short interval, the boys set to work again to get out more provisions. The cabin was stifling now from powder smoke, but they got what they could lay their hands on--a bag of flour, a quant.i.ty of canned stuff, a kettle, a rifle; soon a great heap of rescued supplies lay on the snow outside.

The flames, unable to ignite the solid logs of the cabin, were now dying; evidently they would soon burn themselves out.

Mitch.e.l.l at this moment gave signs of returning life. He opened his eyes, stirred, and began to cough violently. They placed him in a more comfortable position, and at the same time took the precaution of tying his wrists and ankles securely with strips of deer-hide. The man seemed dazed; he looked at the boys in amazement, and did not utter a word.

Two of the French Canadians were also reviving, and the boys tied them up in the same way. The fourth was in bad shape, and it took vigorous rubbing to restore him to consciousness: if he had been neglected a little longer he might have died.

They laid the captives out in a row on a pile of hemlock branches, and lighted a roaring fire to keep them from freezing. Horace then went through Mitch.e.l.l's pockets, and recovered the sack of stones that Fred had seen. He poured the glittering crystals into his hand, while Mitch.e.l.l looked on in black disappointment.

"My friend," said Horace, "you've taken a vast amount of trouble, risked committing murder, and almost lost your own life for these pebbles. Here, I'll give them to you." He poured the crystals back into the pouch, and then flung the sack into the man's lap.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FLUNG THE SACK INTO THE MAN'S LAP]

The outlaw looked utterly bewildered.

"Ain't them diamonds?" he exclaimed.

"Fool's diamonds," Horace replied. "Maybe you can get five dollars for the lot. If they were real diamonds, you might be a millionaire now."

Mitch.e.l.l was evidently convinced, for he swore bitterly.

"I'm curious to know," Horace said, "how you came to hear that you might expect to find diamonds hereabouts?"

"One of these breeds," said Mitch.e.l.l sullenly, "got it from a brother of his down by Hickson that a prospector had died here with a pocketful of shiny stones that he'd picked up. I've prospected some myself. I thought what these stones likely was, and I got together this crowd, and--"

"We know the rest," said Peter. "You came on the same false scent that we did." Then he turned to Horace, and whispered, "What in the world are we going to do with these fellows?"

Horace wrinkled his brows in perplexity, and shook his head. "I don't know," he said.

But whatever they did, they must first of all sleep. The fire in the cabin had indeed burned out, but the place was so charred and smoky as to be uninhabitable; so they built a huge camp-fire of logs on the snow. Here they all pa.s.sed the night,--there was not much left of it,--and Peter, Fred, and Maurice took turns in staying awake in order to watch the prisoners.

The next morning the boys prepared a great breakfast from the recaptured provisions. They released the right hands of the captives, to enable them to eat; the men showed no hostile spirit. Mitch.e.l.l only was sullen, as usual; the three French Canadians chattered gayly; they had quite recovered from their suffocation. Four of the dogs were lively, too; but one was dead.

After breakfast the boys inspected the cabin, and carried out the rest of the supplies. Most of these were badly damaged. All the blankets had been destroyed; the rifles were charred about the stocks, but could still be used; the kettles and tinware were not much injured; but the boys found only one box of cartridges that had not exploded.

Mitch.e.l.l's dog harness was burned to pieces. Both the sledges had been left outdoors, and were unhurt.