On the Edge of the Arctic Part 14

When the Indian had prepared a frame for dressing the skin and lashed the green hide with heavy cord between the four poplar sides and had produced a shaving knife from somewhere among his private possessions, the boys fought for the opportunity to work upon the hide.

For almost two days, Norman, Roy and Paul, by turns, sc.r.a.ped at the muscle, sinews and fat yet adhering to the skins until at last their first trophy shone as tight and clean in the sunshine as a drumhead.

Philip had also brought, from the upland, the animal's brains tied up in his shirt. In the tanning process he then took charge of the cleaned skin and buried it until the hair had rotted, and in this condition the outside of the skin was also cleaned. Then came a mysterious process of scouring the skin with the long preserved brains.

At Colonel Howell's suggestion, and with the complete approval of the boys, this part of the process was carried on at some distance from the cabin. Thereafter, when the weather was clear, Philip exposed the skin to the smoke of a smouldering fire, devoting such time as he had to rubbing and twisting the hide while it turned to a soft, odorous yellow.

Before the real winter began, the skin, which is the wealth of the Canadian Indian, began to make its appearance in strong moccasins, which were usually worn around the fireplace and often in bed.

From somewhere in the outfit a calendar had made its appearance, and this had found a lodging place in the front of the fireplace. The morning that Colonel Howell made a mark on September 1, with a bit of charred stick, he remarked:

"Well, boys, the postman seems to have forgotten us. What's the matter with running up to Athabasca and getting our mail? A piece of beef wouldn't go bad, either. How about it?"

So intense had the interest of Norman and Roy been in the hundreds of things to be done in camp that the aeroplane, although not out of mind, was not always foremost in their thoughts. No reply was needed to this suggestion. Instantly, the proposition filled the air with airship talk.

This first trip had been discussed many times. It required no particular planning now.

"I like to travel about fifty miles an hour," exclaimed Norman, "and it's three hundred miles to the Landing. We'll leave to-morrow morning at five o'clock and land on the heights opposite the town at eleven. One of us'll go across in the ferry--"

"Both of us," broke in Roy. "There's no need to watch the machine--everybody's honest in this country."

"Let me go and watch it?" asked Paul, who was now the constant a.s.sociate of the other boys in their work and pleasures.

"Not this time," answered Norman. "It isn't exactly a bus, you know. We can take care of it all right."

"Then we'll have dinner at the good old Alberta," suggested Roy with his features aglow, "do our errands, and start back about three o'clock. It's a cinch. With the river for our guide, we ought to give you a beefsteak about nine o'clock."

"And don't forget a few magazines," put in Paul.

This flight, which began promptly on time the next morning, after an early breakfast of toasted bannock, bacon and the inevitable tea, which Philip never spoiled with smoke, however, was made with all the ease of the exhibitions at the Stampede.

The _Gitchie Manitou_ was wheeled out of the hangar for a thorough inspection. Then the boys climbed in and the engines were started. With a wave of the hand they were off.

For a short time after the yellow-winged monoplane had mounted and turned south and westward over the vapory river, the boys had a new sensation.

The rising fog started air currents which for a time they did not understand. Perhaps Norman's hand was a little out of a practice and at times Roy showed nervousness.

When Norman finally guessed the cause, he mounted higher and took a course over the uplands where, as the sunshine cleared the atmosphere, the _Gitchie Manitou_ became more easily manageable. The line of vapor rising from the river some distance on their left was sufficient guide.

This at last disappeared in turn and Norman threw the car back on its old course.

Once again above the river, whose brown, oily surface now shone clearly beneath them, Roy especially busied himself with the many attractions of the stream. Animal life was plentiful and, despite Norman's renewed protests, his companion insisted now and then in fruitlessly discharging his rifle at small game.

They made better time than fifty miles and made a safe landing on the heights opposite Athabasca some time before eleven o'clock. What had seemed to them, from Athabasca, to be an uninhabited bluff, was now found to contain several poor cabins. Afraid to leave the car alone near those who would certainly be curious, Norman decided to stay with the monoplane and Roy undertook to visit the town across the river. But dinner at the Alberta was eliminated and Roy, in addition to his mail and meat and magazines, was to bring back luncheon for both the aviators.

Norman accompanied him to the brow of the hill and saw him scramble down the winding road to the ferry landing below. Here, also, he saw him wait nearly a half hour before the c.u.mbersome gravity flatboat put out from the other sh.o.r.e, and then he devoted himself to picking and eating Saskatoon berries, with which the hills were covered.

It was two o'clock when Roy returned, burdened with packages. For an hour Norman had been asleep in the invigorating hill air. Roy had certainly gone the limit in the matter of meat. He had two roasts and six thick steaks and, what was more to his own taste, he proudly displayed a leg of lamb. His mail, of which there seemed to be a great deal for everyone, he had tied in one end of a flour sack. In the other end he had six loaves of fresh bread. On his back in another bag he had a weight of magazines.

"I thought we'd take what we could," he began, "and I guess it's a good thing we came when we did. Somebody's been pounding telegrams in here for several days for Colonel Howell. I got a half dozen of 'em and I sent all he gave me. I got off some messages to the folks, too, but I wonder what the colonel's so busy about."

"This ain't the only iron he has in the fire," answered Norman drowsily.

"But where's our own eats?"

Roy dumped his bags and bundles on the gra.s.s and then began to explore his own capacious pockets. From one he took a can of salmon and from another a box of sardines.

"And here's the lemon for 'em," he explained, producing it from his shirt pocket. "Help yourself to the bread."

"Is that all?" complained Norman. "I'll bet a nickel you had dinner at the Alberta!"

"All but this," went on Roy, and he began unb.u.t.toning the front of his flannel shirt. "It feels kind of soft."

While Norman watched him, he extracted a greasy bag, flat and crumpled, and tore it open to expose what was left of an originally fine hot raisin pie.

His companion turned up his nose in disgust.

"I fell down on the hill," explained Roy, "but if you don't want it, don't bother. It's just a little squashed. I'll eat it all right."

Norman began to straighten out the crumpled pieces with his finger, when his chum added, with some exultation: "And these."

Then, from within his unb.u.t.toned shirt, he began to unload a dozen large sugar-coated doughnuts.

As Norman's mouth began to water, and he turned to the bread bag, a new odor caught his nostrils.

"What's this?" he exclaimed, pulling another greasy bag from among the bread loaves.

"Oh, I forgot," sputtered Roy, a part of one of the doughnuts already in his mouth; "that's some baked ham I found at the butcher shop. I guess that's some eats."

"Didn't you get any pop?" was Norman's only answer, a look of added disgust spreading over his face.

Roy turned, with a startled look: "I couldn't carry any more," he answered a little guiltily, "but I drank a couple o' bottles myself."

"I knew I'd get stung if I let you go!" growled his companion.

Norman looked at him with indignation. Then, having already appropriated a doughnut, he mounted quickly on the side of the car and sprang down again with the aluminum basin in his hand.

"Now you go down to the river and get me a drink. You've had it soft enough."

The return trip was almost a duplicate of the morning flight. In this, however, the aviators were able to follow the stream itself, and they flew low, protected from the evening breeze by the river hills. The ride did not seem long, and the boys were particularly interested in another view of the Rapids, which they had been unable to study in the morning flight. Not a single human being, going or coming, had they seen on the long stretch of river.

In Athabasca, Roy had learned that their boat crew had not all returned, but that La Biche and Moosetooth had reached town and that both were already serving as pilots on the new Hudson's Bay Company steamer that had been launched in their absence and was now making its first trip up the river. They were almost pa.s.sing the oil camp when the sound of a shot attracted their attention and then, guided by Paul's worn and faded hat, they banked and landed in the rear of the aerodrome at ten minutes of nine.

CHAPTER XII

BREASTING A BLIZZARD IN AN AIRSHIP

When Roy turned over his half dozen telegrams to Colonel Howell, the two boys saw that the messages were of some significance. A little later they saw their patron reading them a second time. But when the beefsteak supper was served he seemed to have forgotten business. But that was only his way. When the prospector had reached his after-dinner cigar, he said abruptly: