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To Win or to Die: A Tale of the Klondike Gold Craze, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 12. Wholesale Robbery |
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_ CHAPTER TWELVE. WHOLESALE ROBBERY "Keep together--keep together!" shouted the big Cornishman; but no one heeded, and he followed their example of seizing the first weapon he could reach and following. The pursuit was short, for it seemed madness to follow in amongst the dense pines which formed the forest, placing themselves at the mercy of an enemy who could bring them down as they struggled through the dense thicket of fallen trees and tangled branches: so, after a few rallying cries, they made their way back to the open space by the lake, to find Abel sitting up and resting his head upon his hand. "Wounded!" panted Dallas. "Yes--no! I can't tell! Look!" said the injured man huskily. A few minutes' examination showed how narrow had been his escape, a bullet having struck the side of the poor fellow's head, just abrading the scalp. Half an inch lower must have meant death. "Injuns," said the Cornishman laconically. "No, no," cried Dallas, with a fierce look round; "it must be our enemies." "Not they, my lad; they're fast asleep under the snow, you may take your oath. It's Injuns, by the way they hid themselves. Now, then, can you keep watch--sentry go?" he said, addressing Abel. "Yes, it was only a graze from the bullet; I am better now." "Then you take a loaded rifle and keep watch while we go on knocking the raft together." "Yes," cried Dallas, "the sooner we get away from here the better." All set to work with feverish energy at the raft-making. Enough wood was cut, and by clever notching together, the use of spikes, and a further strengthening with rope, the framework rapidly progressed, their intention being to launch, load up, and set off that evening, so as to get to a safer spot. Abel carefully kept his watch, scanning the dark edge of the forest; but there was no further interruption, and the men worked away, with only a brief pause for refreshment. Then the sun dipped below the pines, and as darkness approached Dallas let his axe rest on the young pine he had been trimming, and turned to his companions, with a look of despair in his eyes. "Yes," said the Cornishman good-humouredly, "we cut out more stuff than we can finish to-night, my son. It's a bigger job than I thought. We shall have to knock off now. What's to be done about the fire?" It was risky work, but the watch was well kept while water was boiled and bacon fried. Then a hasty meal was made, and as the darkness fell the fire was quenched by throwing over it a bucket or two of water. It was hard enough to do this, for though the ground was clear about them, snow lay on every rocky hill, and the night promised to be bitterly cold. But the exposure to an enemy would have been too great; so after selecting one of the huge spruces whose boughs hung down to the ground for a shelter, and dragging the sledges close in, the question arose of continuing the watch. "Tchah! It's as dark as pitch," said the Cornishman. "Nobody could see. Let the enemy think we're watching. They won't come. We must chance it. Wrap up well, and have a good night's rest." This advice was taken, and soon after all were sleeping the sleep of exhaustion, and awoke at daylight without a fresh alarm. The previous day's tactics were resumed, and the toil over the raft went on, but there was still so much to do in the way of bracing and strengthening the rough craft so that it might withstand the fierce currents and concussions they were to expect at the lower part of the lake where the rapids began, that the hours glided by till late in the afternoon, and still the task was not done. "Who could have thought it would take so long?" said Dallas at last. "You see, we have everything to cut." "No one, my son," said their big friend, smiling; "but I bet we shouldn't have got the job done for us in double the time." "It would be madness to start to-night." "Stark. Couldn't get loaded up before dark, and then it'll be like pitch. Let's cut some poles for punting and a mast to make a bit of sail if we like, and then I think we may say that we have got our job well done, ready for loading up and starting in the morning." "Yes," said Abel, who seemed little the worse for his last mishap; "it was better to make a good job of the raft." "And that we've done," said the Cornishman. The poles were cut, trimmed, and laid upon the deck, which had been finished after launching; and now, as they examined their work, all were satisfied that it could not have been done better in the time, for as it lay in the clear water, swinging by a rope secured to a pine-stump, all felt that it would easily bear the party, their sledges and stores; and the pity seemed to be that it could not be used for the whole of their journey. "Who knows? Perhaps it may." There was an hour's daylight yet, and this was utilised down on the sandy shore of the stream which ran into the lake hard by. It was the first trial, and no little interest was felt as every man waded into the icy cold water, pannikin in hand, to scoop the sand aside and then get a tinful from as deep down as they could. This was washed and watched beneath the water, the stones thrown out, and washed again, till only a little sand remained, and this was carefully examined. "Gold!" cried Dallas excitedly; and this was eagerly responded to by the others, for in every pan there was some of the precious metal, but such tiny grains that it was decided that a halt would be useless there. "Farther on," said Dallas excitedly; "this is only the edge of the golden land, but here is proof that we are going right." "Yes," said the big Cornishman; "but I don't rest till we can shovel it up like gravel from a pit." Darkness put an end to their search, and once more the fire was quenched, and in silence they sought the shelter of the great tree, placed their arms ready, rolled themselves in their blankets, and were soon asleep. It seemed as if they had only just lain down when one of the men shouted, "Morning!" "Hooray!" cried the big Cornishman. "Who's going to face the cold, and have a dip in the lake?" Every one but Abel, who hung back. "Don't you feel well enough to come?" said Dallas anxiously. "Yes, but some one ought to light the fire and set the billy to boil." "Here! Hi! All of you," yelled the big Cornishman, who had gone on. "Quick!" All ran at the alarm, and then stood aghast. "The rope must have come undone," cried Dallas. "Don't look like it, my son. It's left part of itself behind." "Broken--snapped?" cried Abel. "Sawed through with a knife," said one of the men. "Injuns. Come in the night; lucky they didn't use their knives to us," growled the Cornishman fiercely, as he looked searchingly round. "Look," cried Dallas, excited; "these are not Indian traces;" and he pointed down at the sandy shore. "Indian? No," cried Abel, going down on his knees; "the marks of navigators' boots, with nails;" and he looked wildly across and down the lake. But the raft, their two days' hard work, had gone. _ |
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