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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 32. The Enemy In The Dark |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. THE ENEMY IN THE DARK "Ahoy there! Keep that dog quiet," cried a familiar voice from some distance off. "It's all right," cried Dallas with a sigh of relief. "Norton." "Here, Scruff, lie down, old man," cried Abel. "Friends, friends." The dog whined, and waved his bushy tail as the door was opened, and their bluff friend came into the glow shed by the fire. "How are you, my lads? Haven't seen you for ages. Didn't know you had started a dog." "He's a visitor," said Dallas. "Come in." The man entered and looked sideways at the dog, who had begun to smell his legs. "Not treacherous, is he? Some of these Eskimo are brutes to snap." "No, he understands you are friends," said Abel. "Lie down, Scruff." The dog crouched, and watched the visitor as he sat down on a box, took out his pipe, and lit it. "Thought I'd give you a look in as I didn't feel worky. How's things going?" "We were coming to warn you," said Dallas; and he related what had passed. "Them?" said Norton, springing up and putting out his pipe; "I was in hopes they were hanged. Well, I'll be off; this means a serious matter for them. We shall have to get up a hunt and stop this. Will you join?" "Of course," said the young men in a breath. "Then good-bye; only mind this--if you hear firing come and help." "Yes; and you'll do the same?" "Trust me," said the man shortly, and he shook hands and hurried away. The next four days passed anxiously enough, and they heard no more of Norton and his friends. The first two nights watch was kept, the occupants of the hut taking turn and turn of three hours. But this duty, somewhat in accordance with the proverb of familiarity breeding contempt, was deputed to Scruff, who, however, was more contemptuous than either of his masters; for he kept the watch carefully curled-up with his tail across his eyes, in the spot where the warmest glow from the fire struck. The fifth day passed without any news being heard from the other scattered claim-holders, and it was thought possible, though hardly likely, that Tregelly might return. The night came on intensely black, with intervals of perfect stillness, followed by puffs of icy wind, which were charged with tiny sharp spicules of ice, which made the face tingle at the slightest exposure to its influence. "He will not be here to-night," said Dallas, after looking out; "there's a storm brewing, and it is too dark to travel, so we may as well give him up." "We had better sit up a few hours. He may come." So, instead of creeping into their sleeping-bags after they had banked up the fire and made all snug, they sat talking, till warmth and weariness combined to make them drowsy, and they lay down, to fall asleep directly. In an hour or two the blazing fire had given place to a heap of wood ashes, over which, as the rising wind swept round the place, what seemed to be a faint phosphorescent light played for a few moments and then died out. Scruff was curled-up so tightly that he looked fixed, and he seemed blind and deaf to everything, till towards the middle of the night a watcher, had there been one, would have seen that there were two bright points visible through the thick brush so closely curled round, while directly after the dog's ears seemed to prick up. If there had been a watcher he would in all probability have attributed this to fancy, consequent upon the faint glow which came and went about the embers, as the wind sighed round the lonely hut; for shadows darkened, and various objects grew more or less defined. Then all idea of want of reality would have passed away, for the dog suddenly and silently sprang to his feet, took a step or two towards the door, and then stood with his head turned on one side, listening. He remained perfectly motionless for quite a minute, as the glow from the fire grew less and less till he was almost invisible. Then suddenly throwing up his head, he uttered a low, deep-toned bark, which brought the cousins from their beds, each seizing upon the rifle laid ready. "What is it, Scruff?" cried Dallas. "Some one there?" There was another deep-toned bark, and the dog sprang to the door and rose up on its hind-legs, tearing at the rug which covered it until it fell. Scruff stood there with his head on one side, listening for some minutes, during which the silence was painful in the extreme. Dallas had sprung to one side of the door, Abel to the other, and they stood close up to the rough walls, the only place where they could be in safety, for there they were beyond the vision of any one who peered through the shuttered window or the apertures of the door left exposed by the tearing down of the rough hanging. The simplest thing, and an act which would have left them more freedom, would have been to have quenched the fire at once. But there was no water at hand, and there was sufficient light from the glowing embers to expose every movement to an enemy without. They stood there with every nerve on the strain, listening, while the dog whined uneasily, took a trot round the fire, and returned to the door, to stand with his head on one side again. "There must be some one out there," whispered Abel. Dallas nodded, and made a sign to his cousin to be silent, for the dog whined uneasily again, turning to the young man, thrusting his muzzle against his hand, and looking up at him as if waiting for orders. The next moment he was at the door again, and reared up with his paws against the bar, at which he tore as if to get it down, so that he might go out into the night. "Here, I know," cried Abel excitedly, "he must hear or feel in some way that Tregelly is close here." "He would not come on at this time of night." "Why not? It's as dark most of the day as it is now. Let's open the door and give a hail." "No; listen," whispered Dallas. "He would do that." "If he were within reach." "He must be within reach for the dog to know," whispered Dallas. But as he spoke he doubted his own opinion, for it seemed possible that a half-wild dog's sensibilities might be sufficiently keen to feel the coming of a friend. "Here, what is it, old fellow?" he said softly. "Some one there?" The dog whined and tore at the bar. "It is as I say, Dal," said Abel excitedly. "Look at him. Here, Scruff, old lad, what is it?" The dog growled. "That doesn't sound as if he scented a friend, Bel." "He does, I tell you," cried Abel angrily; for he was prone to be irritable as a result of his many sufferings. "Here, let's have the door open at once." It was as if the dog understood his words, for he dropped on all fours and uttered a deep-toned bay. "All right, Scruff, we'll let you go," cried Abel, and seizing the rough bar, he was in the act of raising it from the notch in which it rested, when _bang_--_bang_, two shots were fired just outside, and simultaneously the door shook violently, there was a peculiar rending, splintering sound in the rough boards, and Dallas's heart gave a spasmodic leap, for he saw his cousin fall to the ground. "Bel, lad! Hurt?" panted Dallas, stepping forward and dropping on one knee by his cousin's side. As he spoke there were two more shots, the bullets striking the door, and one passing clean through with a whirring, humming sound, to strike the wall on the other side, Dallas's position in all probability saving his life, for the sound seemed to pass just over his head. "Dal, old man! Hurt?" was Abel's answer. "No, not touched. Why don't you answer? Were you hit?" "No; I only ducked down, it seemed so near." "Save your shot," said Dallas hoarsely. "When we fire it must be as a last resource." Abel nodded. "Right," he said. "Crawl to your own side. I'll take this. The bullets will not come through the logs of the wall." "I'm not so sure," said Abel softly; but he obeyed his cousin's order, just as a couple more shots were fired through. The next moment Dallas was stamping and kicking out the fire, with the result that the interior of the hut grew lighter. "Don't, don't do that, Dal," whispered Abel. "You're right in the line of fire, too." As a proof that their position was being made more precarious a couple more shots were fired, the bullets buzzing across the interior. "Must," was the reply. "There, the ashes will soon grow faint;" and in a few minutes the place was nearly black; but at the same time it was full of strangling wood-smoke which rose slowly towards the opening in the roof which formed their chimney. Meanwhile shot after shot was fired through the door, and at every dull thud or tearing of the stout woodwork, the dog dashed about, snarling and barking furiously. "Dal! Dal!" cried Abel passionately; "are we to stop here doing nothing?" "Yes; we are not going to shoot at random. Wait a bit, and our time will come. Have you plenty of cartridges handy?" "Yes; a pocketful." "Don't waste them, then. One will be sufficient to silence an enemy. We must wing him--that will be sufficient. I say!" "Yes, what?" "Bob Tregelly would not knock at the door like this, would he?" "Don't. I made sure it was he." The firing went on through the door, and in the darkness, which now grew profound, the besieged made out that the direction of the bullets was varied, for those which came through struck the wall in different places--high, low, and to right and left; and the result of this was that suddenly, in spite of Dallas's endeavours to keep the dog close to him in shelter, he escaped from him to bound about, barking savagely, and the next minute, as a couple of shots came through the door, he uttered a peculiar snarling snap, and threw himself with a heavy thud against the door. "He has got it, Bel," whispered Dallas. "Here, Scruff! Scruff!" The dog came to him, whining, and then uttered a dismal howl. "Poor old chap! you must lick the place," said Dallas. "I'll see to it when I can get a light." "Badly wounded, Dal?" said Abel. "Can't tell. No; not very bad, or he would have lain still. Has he come to you?" "Yes," said Abel, from the other side of the door; "he has shoved his head against me." There was a pause then, and an ejaculation full of horror. "What is it?" anxiously. "Ugh! The poor fellow's bleeding!" _ |
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