Troop One of the Labrador by Dillon Wallace

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"I never thought of un that way. I've killed loons too," David
confessed, "but I'll never shoot at a loon again. 'Tis the same with
gulls and other things we never uses when we kills, and just shoot at
for fun."

"That's the idea," said Doctor Joe enthusiastically. "Now what do you
think about killing hen partridges in summer?"

"We can kill pa'tridges, can't we?" asked David. "We always eats un,
and you said we could kill un."

"But we've got to use our heads about it," Doctor Joe explained. "I'm
talking now about _hen_ partridges in _summer_. They always have
broods of little partridges then. If you kill the mother all the
little ones die, for they're too small to take care of themselves. Do
you think that's right?"

"I never thought of un before," said David. "'Tis wicked to kill un!
I'll never kill a hen pa'tridge in summer again! Not me!"

"We'll have to be tellin' everybody in the Bay about that!" declared
Andy. "Nobody has ever thought about the poor little uns starvin' and
dyin'!"

"That'll be doing good scout work," Doctor Joe commended. "That's one
way you'll be useful as scouts here in Labrador. Not only will you be
showing kindness to the mother and little partridges, but if the
mother is permitted to live and raise her brood, all the little birds
will be full grown by winter, and it will make that many more
partridges that can be used for food when food is needed."

When presently Jamie announced that it was "'most noon" and he was
"fair starvin'," and the others suddenly discovered that they were
hungry too, a fire was lighted in the stove and a cosy lunch of fried
pork and bread, and hot tea sweetened with molasses, was eaten with an
appetite and relish such as only those can enjoy who live in the open.
Then, with growing interest the lads returned to their scout books,
and camping time came almost before they were aware.

The sun was drooping low in the west when David, indicating a low,
wooded point, said:

"That's Flat P'int. There's good water there and 'tis a fine camping
place."

"Then we'll camp there," Doctor Joe agreed.

"Look! Look!" exclaimed Andy, as the boat approached the shore.
"There's a porcupine!"

Following the direction in which Andy pointed, a fat porcupine was
discovered high up in a spruce tree feeding upon the tender branches
and bark.

"Shall we have un for supper?" Andy asked excitedly.

"Aye," said David, "let's have un for supper. Fresh meat'll go fine."

A shot from the rifle, when they had landed, brought the unfortunate
porcupine tumbling to the ground, and Andy proceeded at once to skin
and dress his game for supper.

"I'll be cook and Andy cookee," Doctor Joe announced. "We'll get wood
for the fire, David, and you and Jamie pitch the tent and get it
ready."

Flat Point was well wooded, and the floor of the forest thickly
carpeted with grey caribou moss. David selected a level spot between
two trees on a little rise near the shore. The ridge rope was quickly
stretched between the trees and the tent securely pegged down. Then
David and Jamie broke a quantity of low-hanging spruce boughs, which
they snapped from the trees with a dexterous upward bend of the wrist.
When a liberal pile of these had been accumulated at the entrance of
the tent, David proceeded to lay the bed.

The rear of the tent was to be the head. Here he laid a row of the
boughs, three deep, with the convex side uppermost, then he began
"shingling" the boughs in rows toward the foot. This was done by
placing the butt end of the bough firmly against the ground with half
the bough, the convex side uppermost, overlapping the bough above it,
as shingles are lapped on a roof. Thus continuing until the floor of
the tent was covered he had a soft, fragrant springy bed, quite as
soft and comfortable as a mattress, and upon this he and Jamie spread
the sleeping-bags.

In the meantime Doctor Joe and Andy had collected an ample supply of
dry wood for the evening, and when, presently, David and Jamie joined
them, a cheerful fire was blazing and already an appetizing odour was
rising from the stew kettle.

When the stew and some tender dumplings were done Doctor Joe lifted
the kettle from the fire, and while he filled each plate with a
liberal portion, and Andy poured tea, David put fresh wood upon the
fire, for the evening had grown cold and frosty with the setting sun.
The blazing fire was cheerful indeed as they settled themselves upon
the seat of boughs and proceeded to enjoy their supper.

"Um-m-m!" exclaimed Andy. "You knows how to cook wonderful fine,
Doctor!"

"'Tis _wonderful_ fine stew!" seconded David.

"Not half bad," admitted Doctor Joe, "but Andy had as much to do with
it as I, and the porcupine had a good deal to do with it. It was young
and fat, and it's tender."

There is no pleasanter hour for the camper or voyageur than the
evening hour by a blazing camp fire. There is no sweeter odour than
that of the damp forest mingled with the smell of burning wood. Beyond
the narrow circle of light a black wall rises, and behind the wall
lies the wilderness with its unfathomed mysteries. Out in the darkness
wild creatures move, silent, stealthy and unseen, behind a veil that
human eyes cannot penetrate. But we know they are there going about
the strange business of their life, and our imagination is awakened
and our sensibilities quickened.

The camp fire is a shrine of comradeship and friendship. Here it was
that the primordial ancestors of every living man and woman and child
gathered at night with their families, in those far-off dark ages
before history was written. The fire was their home. Here they found
rest and comfort and protection from the savage wild beasts that
roamed the forests. It was a place of veneration. The primitive
instinct, perchance inherited from those far-off ancestors of ours,
slumbering in our souls, is sometimes awakened, and then we are called
to the woods and the wild places that God made beautiful for us, and
at night we gather around our camp fire as our ancient ancestors
gathered around theirs, and we love it just as they loved it.

And so it was with the little camp fire on Flat Point and with Doctor
Joe and the boys. With darkness the uncanny light of the Aurora
Borealis flashed up in the north, its long, weird fingers of changing
colours moving restlessly across the heavens. The forest and the
wide, dark waters of Eskimo Bay sank behind a black wall.

There was absolute silence, save for the ripple of waves upon the
shore, each busy with his own thoughts, until presently Jamie asked:

"Did you ever see a ghost, Doctor?"

"A ghost? No, lad, and I fancy no one else ever saw one except in
imagination. What made you think of ghosts?"

"'Tis so--still--and dark out there," said Jamie, pointing toward the
darkness beyond the fire-glow. "And--I were thinkin' I heard
something."

"But there _is_ ghosts, sir, plenty of un," broke in Andy. "Pop's seen
ghosts and so has Zeke Hodge and Uncle Billy and plenty of folks. They
says the ghost of Long John, the old Injun that used to be at the Post
and was drowned, goes paddlin' and paddlin' about in a canoe o'
nights."

"Yes," said David, "I'm thinkin' I saw Long John's ghost myself one
evenin'. I weren't certain of un, but it must have been he."

"Nonsense!" Doctor Joe had no patience with the belief popular among
Labradormen that ghosts of men who have been drowned or killed return
to haunt the scene of their death. "There's no such thing as a ghost."

"What's that now?" Jamie held up his hand for silence, and spoke in a
subdued voice.

Out of the darkness came the rhythmic dipping of a paddle. They all
heard it now. Doctor Joe arose, and closely followed by the boys,
stepped down beyond the fire glow. In dim outline they could see the
silhouette of a canoe containing the lone figure of a man paddling
with the short, quick stroke of the Indian.

"'Tis the ghost of Long John!" breathed Jamie. "'Tis sure he!"

CHAPTER IV

SHOT FROM BEHIND

The canoe was coming directly toward them. In a moment it touched the
shore, and as its occupant stepped lightly out the boys with one
accord exclaimed:

"Injun Jake! 'Tis Injun Jake!"

And so it proved. The greeting he received was hearty enough to leave
no doubt in his mind that he was a welcome visitor. Perhaps it was the
heartier because of the relief the boys experienced in the discovery
that the lone canoeman was not, after all, the wraith of Long John,
but was their friend Indian Jake in flesh and blood.

When his packs had been removed, Indian Jake lifted his canoe from the
water, turned it upon its side and followed the boys to the fire,
where Doctor Joe awaited him.

"Just in time!" welcomed Doctor Joe, as he shook Indian Jake's hand.
"We've finished eating, but there's plenty of stew in the kettle.
Andy, pour Jake some tea."

Indian Jake, grunting his thanks, silently picked up David's empty
plate and heaped it with stew and dumpling from the kettle without the
ceremony of waiting to be served.

He was a tall, lithe, muscular half-breed, with small, restless,
hawk-like eyes and a beaked nose that was not unlike the beak of a
hawk. He had the copper-hued skin and straight black hair of the
Indian, but otherwise his features might have been those of a white
man. Indian Jake had been the trapping companion of David and Andy the
previous winter, and, as previously stated, was this year to be Thomas
Angus's trapping partner on the fur trails.

The boys were vastly fond of Indian Jake, and Thomas and Doctor Joe
shared their confidence, but the Bay folk generally looked upon him
with distrust and suspicion. Several years before, he had come to the
Bay a penniless stranger. He soon earned the reputation of being one
of the best trappers in the region. Then, suddenly, he disappeared
owing the Hudson's Bay Company a considerable sum for equipment and
provisions sold him on credit. It was well known that in the winter
preceding his disappearance Indian Jake had had a most successful
hunting season and was in possession of ample means to pay his debts.
His failure to apply his means to this purpose was looked upon as
highly dishonest--akin, indeed, to theft.

Two years later he reappeared, again penniless. The Company refused
him further credit, and he had no means of purchasing the supplies
necessary for his support during the trapping season in the interior.
It was at this time that Thomas Angus broke his leg, and it became
necessary for David and Andy to take his place on the trails. They
were too young to endure the long months of isolation without an older
and more experienced companion. There was none but Indian Jake to go
with them, and he was engaged to hunt on shares a trail adjacent to
theirs.

With his share of the furs captured by the end of the trapping season,
Indian Jake discharged his old debt with the Company. This was not
sufficient, however, to re-establish confidence in him. There was a
lurking suspicion among them, fostered by Uncle Ben Rudder of Tuggle
Bight, the wiseacre and oracle of the Bay, that Indian Jake's payment
of the debt was not prompted by honesty but by some ulterior motive.

Indian Jake emptied his plate. He refilled it with the last of the
stew and again emptied it, in the interim swallowing several cups of
hot tea.

"Good stew," he remarked in appreciation and praise when his meal was
finished. "When were you gettin' back?"

"I reached The Jug day before yesterday," said Doctor Joe.

"Huh!" Indian Jake grunted approval, as he puffed industriously at his
pipe. "Where you goin' now? To see Lem Horn?"

"No," Doctor Joe answered, "we're going to Fort Pelican to get some
things I brought in on the mail boat."

"I been goose huntin'," Indian Jake explained. "Not much goose yet.
Too early. Got four. Goin' to The Jug now to give Thomas a hand. Want
to start for Seal Lake soon. Don't want to be late."

"Pop's thinkin' to start in a fortnight," said David.

"Good!" acknowledged Indian Jake. "Maybe we start sooner. Start when
we're ready. I want to go quick. Have plenty time get there before
freeze-up."

Indian Jake had apparently finished talking. Doctor Joe and the boys
made several attempts to continue the conversation, but only receiving
responsive grunts, turned to a discussion of the flag and other scout
problems, while Indian Jake was absorbed in his own thoughts.
Presently he rose and proceeded to unroll his bed.

"Plenty of room in the tent," Doctor Joe invited. "Better come in with
us, Jake."

"Goin' early. Sleep here," he declined, as he spread a caribou skin
upon the ground to protect himself from the damp earth. Then he
produced a Hudson's Bay Company blanket, once white but now of
uncertain shade, and rolling himself in the blanket, with his feet
toward the fire, was soon snoring peacefully.

"We won't trouble to douse the fire," Doctor Joe suggested presently.
"He wants to sleep by it, and he'll look after it. Let's turn in."

And with the front of the tent open that they might enjoy the air and
profit by the firelight, they were soon snug in their sleeping-bags
and as sound asleep as Indian Jake.

"High-o!"

The three boys sat up. It was broad daylight, and Doctor Joe, on his
hands and knees, was looking out of the tent.

"Our visitor has gone, and there's little wonder, for we've been
sleeping like bears and it's broad daylight. Hurry, lads, or the
sun'll be well up before we get away."

The boys sprang up and were soon dressed. The fire had burned low,
indicating that Indian Jake had been gone for a considerable time. A
fat goose was hanging from the limb of a tree. Fastened to it was a
piece of birch bark, and scribbled upon the birch bark with a piece of
charcoal from the fire, these words:

"cerprize fur the lads bekos they likes Goos."

Another surprise awaited them. When they lifted the lid of the large
cooking kettle they found it nearly full of boiled goose.

"That's the way o' Indian Jake!" Andy exclaimed. "He's always plannin'
fine surprises for folks."

"It's surely a fine surprise," said Doctor Joe. "Breakfast all ready
but the tea, and a goose for to-night."

Every one hurried, but the sun was well up when they put out the fire
and hoisted sail. There was little wind, however, and the light
breeze soon dropped to a dead calm. Doctor Joe unshipped the rudder
and began sculling, while the boys laboured at the long oars. At
length the tide began running in, and progress was so slow that it was
decided to go ashore and await a turn of the tide or a breeze.

"Lem Horn lives just back o' that island," said David, indicating a
small wooded island. "We might stop and bide there till a breeze
comes, and see un."

In accordance with the suggestion Doctor Joe turned the boat inside
the island, and there, on the mainland in the edge of a little
clearing and not a hundred yards distant, stood Lem Horn's cabin. It
was a secluded and peculiarly lonely spot, hidden by the island from
the few boats that plied the Bay. Here lived Lem Horn and his wife and
two sons, Eli, a young man of twenty-one years, and Mark, nineteen
years of age.

"There's no smoke," observed Jamie.

"Maybe they're all down to Fort Pelican getting their winter outfit,"
suggested David.

"There seems to be no one about but the dogs," said Doctor Joe, as he
stepped ashore with the painter and made it fast, while Lem's big
sledge dogs, lolling in the sun, watched them curiously.

Visitors do not knock in Labrador. The cabins are always open to
travellers whether or not the host is at home. Andy was in advance,
and opening the door he stopped on the threshold with an exclamation
of horror.

Stretched upon the floor lay Lem Horn, his face and hair smeared with
blood, and on the floor near him was a small pool of blood. A chair
was overturned, and Lem's legs were tangled in a fish-net.

Doctor Joe leaned over the prostrate figure.

"Shot," said he, "and from behind!"

"Does you mean somebody shot he?" asked David, quite horrified.

"Yes, and it must have happened yesterday," said Doctor Joe.

[Illustration: STRETCHED UPON THE FLOOR LAY LEM HORN]

CHAPTER V

LEM HORN'S SILVER FOX

"He's alive, and this doesn't look like a bad wound," said Doctor Joe
after a brief examination. "David, put a fire in the stove and heat
some water! Andy, find some clean cloths! Jamie, bring up my medicine
kit from the boat!"

The boys hurried to carry out the directions, while Doctor Joe made a
more careful examination and discovered a second wound in Lem's back,
just below the right shoulder.

"Both shots from the back," he mused. "This wound explains his
condition. The one in the head only scraped the skull, and couldn't
have more than stunned him for a short time. The other has caused a
good deal of bleeding and may be serious."

With David's help Doctor Joe carried Lem to his bunk and removed his
outer clothing.

The water in the kettle on the stove was now warm enough for Doctor
Joe's purpose. He poured some of it into a dish, and after dissolving
in it some antiseptic tablets, cleansed and temporarily dressed the
wounds.

Restoratives were now applied. Lem responded promptly. His breathing
became perceptible, and at length he opened his eyes and stared at
Doctor Joe. There was no recognition in the stare and in a moment the
eyes closed. Presently they again opened, and this time Lem's lips
moved.

"Where's Jane?" he asked feebly.

"Your wife seems to be away and the boys, too," said Doctor Joe. "We
found you alone."

"Gone to Fort Pelican," Lem murmured after a moment's thought. He
stared at Doctor Joe for several minutes, now with the look of one
trying to recall something, and at length asked:

"What's--been--happenin' to me?"

"You've been shot," said Doctor Joe. "We found you on the floor. Some
one has shot you."

"The silver! The silver fox skin!" Lem displayed excitement. "Be it on
the table? I had un there!"

"There was no fur on the table when we came," said Doctor Joe.

Lem made a feeble attempt to rise, but Doctor Joe pressed him gently
back upon the pillow, saying as he did so:

"You must lie quiet, Lem. Don't try to move. You're not strong
enough."

Lem, like a weary child, closed his eyes in compliance. Several
minutes elapsed before he opened them again, and then he looked
steadfastly at Doctor Joe.

"Do you know who I am?" Doctor Joe asked.

"Yes," answered Lem in a feeble voice; "you're Doctor Joe. I knows
you. I'm--glad you--came--Doctor Joe."

"Lem, you've been shot, but we'll pull you through. It isn't so bad,
but you've lost some blood, and that's left you weak for a little
while. Don't talk now. Rest, and you'll soon be on your feet again."

While Lem lay with closed eyes, Doctor Joe turned to consideration of
the crime. If it were true that a silver fox skin had been taken,
robbery was undoubtedly the motive for the shooting. But who could
have known of the existence of the skin? And who could have come to
this out-of-the-way place unobserved by the old trapper and shot him
without warning?

Instinctively Indian Jake rose before his eyes. The half-breed's
unsavoury reputation forced itself forward. And there was the
circumstance of Indian Jake's visit to Flat Point camp the previous
evening, his hurried departure in the morning, and his evident desire
to hurry into the interior wilderness where he would be swallowed up
for several months, and from which there would be innumerable
opportunities to escape. Suddenly Doctor Joe was startled by Lem's
voice, quite strong and natural now:

"I'm thinkin' 'twere that thief Injun Jake that shoots me."

"What makes you think so?" asked Doctor Joe.

"He were huntin' geese just below here, and he comes in and sits for a
bit. I had a silver fox skin I were holdin' for a better price than
they offers at Fort Pelican. 'Twere worth five hundred dollars
whatever, and they only offers three hundred. I were busy mendin' my
fishin' gear before I stows un away when Injun Jake comes. We talks
about fur and I brings the silver out t' show he. Then I lays un on
the table and keeps on mendin' the gear after he goes, thinkin' to put
the fur up after I gets through mendin'."

"What time did Indian Jake come?" asked Doctor Joe.

"A bit after noon. Handy to one o'clock 'twere, for I were just
boilin' the kettle. He eats a snack with me."

"How long did he stay? What time did he go?"

"I'm not knowin' just the time. I were a bit late boilin' the kettle.
I boiled un around one o'clock. We sets down to the table about ten
after and 'twere handy to half-past when we clears the table. Then
Injun Jake has a smoke, and I shows he the silver, and I'm thinkin'
'twere a bit after two when he goes. He said he were goin' to stop on
Flat P'int last night and get to Tom Angus's to-night whatever."

"A little after two o'clock when he left?"

"Maybe 'twere half-past. He had a down wind to paddle agin', and he
were sayin' 'twould be slow travellin', and 'twould take three or four
hours whatever to make Flat P'int."

"And then what happened?"

"I were settin' mendin' the gear thinkin' to finish un and stow un
away, and I keeps at un till just sundown. I were just gettin' up to
put the kettle on for supper. That's all I remembers, exceptin' I
wakes up two or three times and tries to move, but when I tries
there's a wonderful hurt in my shoulder, and my head feels like she's
bustin', and everything goes black in front of my eyes. If the fur's
gone, Injun Jake took un."

"It's strange," said Doctor Joe, "very strange. There's a bullet in
your shoulder. After you rest a while we'll probe for it and see if we
can get it out. Don't talk any more. Just lie quietly and sleep if you
can."

The boys were out-of-doors. Doctor Joe was glad they had not heard
Lem's accusation against Indian Jake. The half-breed had been good to
them, and they held vast faith in his integrity. There was some hope
that Lem's suspicions were not well founded; nevertheless Doctor Joe
was forced to admit to himself that circumstances pointed to Indian
Jake as the culprit. It was highly improbable that any one else should
have been in the vicinity without Lem's knowledge. It was quite
possible that Lem's statement of the hour when he was shot was
incorrect, for his mind could hardly yet be clear enough to be
certain, without doubt, of details.

Lem quickly dropped into a refreshing sleep, and Doctor Joe left him
for a little while to join the boys out-of-doors. He found them behind
the house picking the goose Indian Jake had left in the tree at the
Flat Point camp.

"How's Lem, sir? Is he hurt bad?" David asked as Doctor Joe seated
himself upon a stump.

"He's sleeping now. After he rests a little we'll see how badly he's
hurt," said Doctor Joe. "I fancy you chaps are thinking about dinner.
Hungry already, I'll be bound!"

"Aye," grinned David, "wonderful hungry. 'Tis most noon, sir."

Doctor Joe consulted his watch.

"I declare it is. It must have been nearly eleven o'clock when we
reached here. I didn't realize it was so late."

"'Twere ten minutes to eleven, sir," said Andy. "I were lookin' to see
how long it takes us to come from Flat P'int."

"What time did we leave Flat Point?" asked Doctor Joe.

"'Twere twenty minutes before seven, sir." Andy drew his new watch
proudly from his pocket to refer to it again, as he did upon every
possible occasion.

"No," corrected David, "'twere only twenty-five minutes before eleven
when we leaves Flat P'int, and fifteen minutes before eleven when we
gets here. I looks to see."

"Perhaps your watches aren't set alike," suggested Doctor Joe.
"Suppose we compare them."

The comparison disclosed a difference, as Doctor Joe predicted, of
five minutes. Then each must needs set his watch with Doctor Joe's,
which was a little slower than Andy's and a little faster than
David's.

Doctor Joe made some mental calculations. Both David and Andy had
observed their watches, and there could be no doubt of the length of
time it had required them to come from Flat Point to Lem's cabin. They
had consumed four hours, but their progress had been exceedingly slow.
Indian Jake had doubtless travelled much faster in his light canoe,
but, at best, with the wind against him, he could hardly have paddled
from Lem's cabin to Flat Point in less than two hours. He had arrived
one hour after sunset. If Lem were correct as to the time when the
shooting took place, Indian Jake could not be guilty.

But still there was, with but one hour or possibly a little more in
excess of the time between sunset and Indian Jake's arrival at camp,
an uncertain alibi for Indian Jake. Lem may have been shot much
earlier in the afternoon than he supposed. When Lem grew stronger it
would be necessary to question him closely that the hour might be
fixed with certainty. Whoever had shot and robbed Lem must have known
of the existence of the silver fox skin, and been familiar with the
surroundings. The shots had doubtless been fired through a broken pane
in a window directly behind the chair in which Lem was sitting at the
time.

"Why not cook dinner out here over an open fire?" Doctor Joe presently
suggested. "You chaps are pretty noisy, and if you come into the house
to cook it on the stove, I'm afraid you'll wake Lem up, and I want him
to sleep."

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