THE TRAIL OF ADVENTURE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18629, 9 February 1924, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE TRAIL OF ADVENTURE.

|;:-. : ;4S;'. .. : #» • — : BY ; OTTWELL BINNS. ' e- ; ■ '"V (Copyright.) '~ '* ' CHAPTER XIX. (continued).';:; The man behind the sled, falsifying pornell's anticipation, opened fire again. Plainly he was using a repeating; rifle, ■ .and a stream of bullets plugged the '■''~ , '-.wooden walls. - •i>' * u- '•"Keep qUiet! Keep quiet!" counselled ' • Tnriell, and then half groaned. "Oh, "■" if T could only see." 1 ' "': Then suddenly while the firing was ' ■ J Btill proceeding, he lifted his hand and ■ '■''■■■ slipped the bandage from his eyes. Then ' be opened them, but swiftly closed them as he caught, the glow of the stove. He > . turned his head towards the darker part *. of the hut, and again opened his eyes. '. 'In the shadows he saw the outline of !=":!"* Hilc" : Stefanson, and he laughed *ith s?: exultiiig relief. Vk -V "What is it v " she asked in a tense U'\ : 'whisper. * "Why " p T! . "I can see quite well in the gloom," t[y he said, rising and moving towards her. ; r ;i "There is another rifle," and I can $K use —" ' \, "- '■ "But your eyes." broke in the woman ?. ■'. - protestingly. "You must not risk them. c,; ■ , You must--—" f i ' "The night will not hurt them. So £<■ .".-; long as I do not look at the glare of the stove I feel no pain, and I can see ■ : , you quite clearly." •.'£.,' The last remark was not strictly true. 7.3 *.. \ Though he was staring earnestly at the V" face close to his own he could not make -■;/ out its lineaments, but of one thing he V;- - was able to assure himself: the wi'm-in. h : ■'. : : as he had anticipated, was tall, tail as ~v : -';,'■ himself, and nobly built. If only be- ;^; . could see her face >;- Sis unvoiced desire was broken on by V>. the sound of Canim's rifle, and by a OvV; shouted curst ou'.side. ]~y. ' "Anor'jr man gso to de sled," said %'v i : Canim in explanation. "I hit heem, I AjL tiuk; but he hav' crawled behind." ™ "Good 1 That will make them care--3?: full" The voice of some unseen person out- : 0 side shouted a question, which those in :; " the cabin distinctlv heard: <&"-; ; "Did they get Bill?" '~ purnell waited anxiously for the i i answer, and when it came experienced *~ '' disappointment. ;'"? ">Jope! Leastways, they split his ear. >U Get ready." '■■■•-■■ "Right-ho!" ..':: "There's something coming!" said Pur "• mil quickly. 'Some plan they're <*oing (" "■) "to puS in execution. I wonder what it ~; is. That was a warning. I—" i '•■•':■' The firing from the sled broke out '•/•..' again; and as now there were two men ••'-. behind it, they pumped a steady stream f;.' of lead into the :.■• cabin wall. At the i'*. same moment a third rifle began to :".":, speak in another direction, and Canim ' - ran to the loophole on that side »to re- :■' • connoitre. Half a minute later he spoke. . "Dere is a man in de snow. I m! 'H' see Ir'ra, but I see de fire of him gun. I shoot next time?" .•'■■•.• "Shoot away!" said Purnell with a ,'■'■ abort laugh. ••v.- He stood by Hilda Ste'fanson listening, ' ■ clear of the loopholes and of any chance ; .-. bullet that might find its way through. -"''' Their ears told them that so far the two 1 "'men had not yet left the 6helCer of the f ■','■; tied, and it was no use putting their i. lives in needless jeopardv. And as they '".'■' ;i.':.:■ stood there, Purnell with his back to the •.'*'•; •'; Stove, a piece of resinous wood crackled :':W-- into, brief flame, lighting up Hilda Stef- '.:: .anscn's face. He saw i€ clearly, aston- •■ .■'";■■'• ishingly young, white and statuesque in \, ff the light, the fine eyes aglow, and he 4v laujzhea in a sudden joyous laugh. •\\-, "Whywhy do you laugh?" ■ "Your hair- is golden?" he asked in ! ■-/;." ■ reply. ':"••/' • "Yes, but ——' " v , , "I knew it! Back there in the chair I dreamed of you as you are " '.■:." 'Yon dreamed of me?' she asked whisi': •«;•:' .peruwly. I -\" "Why not? You saved my life, and i'.l till esw I have not looked on you." ? M '■ "Bra, but " i^* : . .;$ "Yen are all that I dreamed," he U tj'nisperad back—"if your eyes are blue as S^rdrtrp's." ! . "They hot blue!" "The cold bluo of the Northern seas?" j|: he asked. "I have been in the Baltic '--V; and op the fjords, and Sverdrup's eyes i':-;.". were of the colour of those seas in the ;•',,-"- sunshine, and yours—— ';.: - : But what of it?" she whispered back. ;'': "Girl, can't you {,-uess? I " ; ; - The crack of Canim's rifle broke on the 1 , wild • declaration he was about to make, [ ].'•' and swiftly the answer came from outside r' :■;•;■?'Mn a perfect fusillade which sent them to the loopholes. Then quite suddenly ■'■'•, i) ;! the Indian grunted, whirled and crashed '",,' to-ths cabin floor with a groan. :. ? j%':-;."•'• "Be careful. Keep watch. They've got fbt Indian," said Purnell. and crossed ' ? the cabin to the place where Canim lay. 'It was in the darkest part of the hut, ';';\J2 and for a moment as he knelt beside him y|( Pnrnell feared the man was killed. But "; to his relief Canim moved, and then sat ap. >'; "It is there !*' explained the Indian, ' : -tunching his left shoulder. Purnell made a swift examination. His v '•yes did not serve him very well but, catting open the moosehide tunic, he '; ; found the wound and bound it as well "?>as he could, the Indian stoically suffering the operation without so much as a murmur. He was stilh engaged upon the task when Miss Stefanson cried out: "They are pushing Che sled nearer. I - . «a»* sure of it. I am going to fire." '' ; "' The crack of the rifle followed the i; words, and whilst Purnell completed his ' task she fired twice more, apparently ; -;»ithont effect, for after the third shot •.;.' ; £'-« littln cry of dismay broke from her. .;■£?££■ '■ "I cannot stop them," the whispered. i'"And tho sled covers them.'- They move ,•■;.: nearer."

■ ."U.nw look." said Purnell, and was j •V. loving in that direction when in the , | momentary stillness there came a sound 'hat made his heart leap wit&i sudden fear, and which brought him to a stand- -- r still. This . was the rattle of the wooden y;-;:"; .UttJi,- as someone outside tugged the .. " latch-string smartly, and in almost the .7 same second some heavy body was / ' Sirc-nTt against the door. But the primiV tive bar, a strong piece of wood, slipped ;:• 'a sockets each side of the door, held fast, and whoever was outside the door remained there. He looked at Hilda Stefanson. To his ••;■• doubled eyes her face was like some \". . ';ttuite flower in the darkness, and there *as a quiver in her voice as she whis-,'-v ;?ered: "They have reached the hut 1 We ;-::\:'*re lost!" ; '%>! Not yet!" he 'answered back ' ■■■ hoarsely. "We are in and they are out." ?e moved towards the loophole from *hich. she had been observing She process of the sled; 'nut before he reached it (here issued from it a red stream of fire, that brought stabbing pains to his r . wader eyes, and that seemed to blind pun anew. In a trice he guessed ;: what- had happened. In Che brief ,;, 'interval whilst he and Miss StefjuSen had been looking towards the : ?»r the men behind the sled had left »• and rushed the loopholes. Blinded as ~* was, he acted with swift decision, •the situation was desperate now, but it was not yet nl together Host. He made a le ap that brought him to Miss Stefansoaa side, and the next moment he whirled with her into the corner :. :.:•' where fh e store 3 were pied _ They ronned an angle which'' was out ;.'-Pi .range of all the loopholes, and com- , • \ «-nded only by the window. There ' ' ' "luonir tho cowed dogs they crouched, :.';'.: Whilst bullets plugged the wooden walls si the cabin, and "as he felt her shaking ■. v reside him he stretched a hand and ;,■ tound hers. "My dear," he whispered, "my dear—" ,;V , Ue got no further, for at that moment i\ ■"« fried out in warning : "The window! &'■< m? are forcing the barricade i "'■"' '** a* firing through the loonholes slack--3£ *°en- A man laughed harvhlv outside. 4-»na 'V? one of the sacks of flour fell * urn ell trained his rifle on the window. W ! °* companion cau-ht the action and moved suddenly, and the next moment rect' ° Wa P°' ntin ß in the sam ' e di-

$ - a 'l°' l ? dl " he whispered. "When the •ark gives way— " ga w 1 sway> then j t fe]l with ft 'iTtJ Ut M ore eit her of them pulled ->• 'tormEi. th ? Wl <* * wolf shiv- ft d. I]" •urowgn the night outside/and was taken m:y-- ■

up by a pack. A man shouted hoarsely, curses sounded,;, a rifle cracked, then followed the wild* howl of charging men. ■;"■', •■TJhfl Grey S Wolf!" shouted Purnell exultmgly. "In the nick of time!" Hilda Stefanson cried out in relief . as ; «ho shouted, and they- stood ' upright ; «tof ether, then as she swayed ho caught norm his arms ./''"";'' - -■' CHAPTER XX. i: -;]ySs 't r ■ THE iJtESCTTB. ... )/, - ,'■' It was the morning after his arrival at the Nahoni camp, and Roy Ranleigh was walk in u p the river-tide with Lisette, Behind them the smoke of the tepees rose like fairy pi'lars in the still . air, and. ahead of them the sombre spin-e were darK under their pall of glistening 1 snow. The low sim was behind them, and as they walked briskly, on the girl's v was a look of great intent. "You arranged things with mv father Iwtv.qig.lit, Roy?" asked the girl presently as they drew well away from the camp. ,' \\.e, my dear. We had no difficulty aoout that. The matter now rests with you and me. When shall we be married, sweetheart?" "Oh," cried the girl, with a swift flush. ( "I have not thought of that—l 'The sooner th* better. I think," said Ranleigh as she broke off. "Rut my father?" cried Lisette in some distress. "I should have to, leave him ' Your father will have it so. T talked with him far into the night. He has grown to love the life un here, and will not leave it. I suggested that he might «<■> find live in the State* : but that has no attraction for him. nor has England. H-* h-is lived so long in the North, that the wildness of it has entered fint-o his blocd ; whilst be feels that to leave .his Indian; would V equivalent to a desertion. He thinks that without him the order' > tribal life that he ha? evolved wou'd clip into chaos; and that with the influx cf wh'te men on the Yvkon there is a real dancer that if he left them his Indians mi'/ht become the tools and prey of all sorts of blackguards, so he will not leave m." "And vou—what do you think about it, Roy?" "On the whole I acres with Titm. Were he to return to the world he knew in his youth, he would find that tiling had chaned enormously; that he did not fit. and I think that he would be more an exile in the South among them than he has ever been up here. He would miss the authority that he now exercises. All purpose would be pone out of his life, and I gather that he is not a man to enjoy spending his time in twiddling his thumbs." Here he ha? much to do; he is lawyer, judge, prime minister and chancellor in one. and to be the master and moulder of some hundreds of lives is no unworthy task. After all, it is a man's work: the sort of job • that a great iriiuiv men of his race follow officially, and that he does it independently of government sanction in no way detracts from its' inherent greatness. "Then you think he is right to continue here?" "Frankly, yes. But that does not apply to vou " "Oh, cut " "Listen, my dear. It is your father's wish that some day you should return to the home of his childhood, to the life that, is rightly yours. The Vorth holds much for a man. as your father has proved: to him when life is packed with purpose it ceases to be exile, but for a woman it is desolationa bleak life in bleak circumstances, —well, in an exile's grave." "But I have much to do also. rfThe women here " "~ • "You would have much to do _ at Anthorpe, also. For many years little has been done for the villagers on the estate, owing partly to the fact that trie Ranleighs have long been an impoverished race, and to the further fact that my mother died three years after my father's succession, and so for over twenty years there has been no lady of the Manor. Wo together can change all that. The long talk I had with your father last night cave me a new view of life. I came to America to find wealth to bolster up an impoverished estate, but my purpose was selfish in its base, ; and not altogether honourable in the f means by which it was to be achieved. «• Roy—what was the means! -1 do not think I will tell you now dear. I may say that the path by which I first hoped to find riches was blocked completely and for ever > when I met you in the store at Skagway." . " Ah i" said Lisette with a quick feminine jealousy, " there was someone else— another woman!" , ' Not anyone whom yon 'can count a rival, dear! Don't let us distress ourselves by raking up dead things. What I was going to say to you was that the selfish purpose which brought me from England to seek gold has gone. The talk i had with my uncle last night quite killed it. And with the gold that I shall take from here you and I will make a new Anthorpe— an estate as your father himself could make if it were possible for him to return. And he wants you to -go to Anthorpe. He told me last night that many times he had been tempted to bieak the seal of silence about himself, and write to my father to take you to the life he feels you ought to live. He was on the point of doing so four years ago when, in a six months' old paper, he read the account of my fathers death. So you see, Lisette, everything urges you along this way—" '* Except my love for my father! " Even that if he wishes it," answered her lover quickly. " And there is anothei aspect of the situation that- perhaps you ought to consider." " What is that?" demanded Lisette quickly. , ' , ■ '■• " For this cause shall a man leave father and mother and cleave unto his wile for ever," he quoted quietly, and then added with a amiie: "I suppose the law is feminine in its application as well as masculine." " But," began Lisette, in some distress, " the circumstances are quite unusual,

my father —" ! 1 Ranleigh glanced swiftly over his shoulder. They were out of sight of the encampment, alone in the white world. He stopped, slipped from the great webbed shoes, and gathered her in his arras, and broke on her protestation with a kiss. " Lisette," he whispered, " you love me?" "How can you ask?" she whispered back. " Then you will come to me, as I pray, and as your father wishes. It will be many months before we leave this neighbourhood. A year at perhaps two, who knows?but at least all the next | summer we shall be here. And if you wish, I promise you that every third year, while your father lives, we will spend some months up here." " But that will" be a great sacrifice for vou to —" * "No! No! I shall like it. It will ,e a pleasure in itself, and to be able to talk to your father about what we are doing at Anthorpe will be real gladness! Lisette, you must agree." " If I must —" "You must, my dear. It is your father's wish. If you would make him really happy this is the way. This life up here he loves, but you have long been a source of secret care to him as he has thought of you, alone, without friends, and remote from your own kind. If you run try me you will annihilate that partic'ii.ir care completely, and make him a really happy man, while you will make myself— Hut you know that. Lisette, you vul agree?" She looked at him smilingly. In her great dark eyes there was a light that he had first seen there on the Yukon trail; but now it was no flash as of s i- mer lightning or flickering aurora, but a steady glow. "It seems that I must," she whispered. " Yes," he said, " yes ! Life and destiny and love have marked this trail for you.' " But tho frost will mark something else if wo do not march on," she said with tremulous laughter, that betrayed rather than hid the depth of feeling that she would have concealed.

They walked on together, side by side, and for a monnsnt the creak and claok of the snowshocs and the crunching of the crisp snow were the only sounds that broke the utter stillness of the white world through which they moved, then Ranleigh spoke agahu

" Your father hoped and. prayed that you would reach this decision, and las.t, night he suggested that in the event of your I agreeing we should get one of the missionary priests to come up hero for the marriage.* It seems that he knows a good man across the American oorder— "■/ •Father;; Bernard'.They are great friends. sHe baptised me !" '• That is the name. Lisettc— will agree?" ■'-' • . " Yes." "That is great he cried, and then they turned on the backward trail to the camp. ,;•:-, '"...'.' That the news they brought was more than acceptable to the Grey Wolf his face showed, when Ranleigh told him of their decision. . ' " Good !" he said, " good. Then we'll send for Father Bernard, and you shall have such a wedding as this country has ever known—for Lisette is the daughter of a chief." He left them to give his orders, and an hour afterwards they watched a dogtrain move out with a couple of Indians breaking trail to the West, and Eov Ranleisrh laughed.

"Cupid's messengers!" "Yes !" she i*nns.w<|"ed. "I wonder what Father Bernard will think ? "

" And I wonder how long he will be in coming." ', " Not very lone," laughed the girl. " Father Bernard is a <n-eat traveller "

Thev were still standing watching the receding messengers, when round a treecrowned cape came a dog train travelling at a great pace, an Tndian on the sled. " Jehu, the son of Nitmslu, \n Jiis Northern incarnation I" laughed Ranleigh as thev watched.

Others also were watching, sudden 1 the girl spoke: The man brings news m some kind or he would not travel " She did noit -finish the sentence, for "hiist the words were still on her lips some unevenness in th» »'-iil ?nv>*»A ''-» sled to halt, and the driver was thrown into the snow, whilst, unable to dray '.be overturned sled, the doers were brougTit to a standstill. A great laugh went up from the onlookers; but the man in tho snow picked himself up. and ran on towards the camn without stopping to ri"M the pled. The merriment suddenly died. The Grev Wolf, who bid witnessed the accident himself, stepped (forward to meet the man. whose face betrayed an excitement unusual in a man of his race: and in quick gutters! speech the mm delivered the news that he bad bronchi The Grey Wolf asked a sharp question or two. and whilst the man w*« answering Ranleigh glanced at the girl and was surprised by a look of deep concern on her face. " Lisette." he asked quickly. " what is it ? There is <»r«T«ethincr wrong ? " " Yes " she said, " I think your frier.at the cabin is in some kind of trouble I not hear what the man said at first, but—" The Grev Wolf's voice barking orders in the native tontrue broke on her words, and she stopped to listen: then, as men began to run, she said ; "Whatever.it is, it is serious, My father is sending an expedition. He " The Grev Wolf himself came towards them. Roy," he said, your partner is in difficulties at your cabin. There are several white men' attaching some one who is shut up in the cabin. They stopped that man, but let him go when they found he was a stranger ; but they are useing rifles, for he heard them shooting long after he had left them behind. As you know, as Chief of the Nahonis I regard all this district as within my juri edition, and I am going down there at once." " I will come too." answered Ranleiffh nmW'v. *'Th"t Sla."VnT>n crowd of whom I told vou last night, must have found our trail after all. They are a ruthless lot." " I hope your partner will he able to hold out." said- the Grey Wolf earnestly. "Tt will take us some hours to reach there." No more was said, but half an hour afterwards a single sled with a double team of def"! and a score of Indians with the Grev Wolf and Ranleigh were speeding southward. The pace was a great one, and speech was impossible. AV ' baronet's stamina was required to keep up with the expedition, but anxiety for his friend was Itself a drivinc force helping him to keep the pace. Throngh the declining day they raced on. The lone twilight fell and merged itself into the srhostly gloom of night, and still the Indians raced on untiringly, without baiting; then quite suddenly the Grev Wolf barked an order, and the whole cavelcade came to a standstill. Ranleigh's body was wet with perspiration; and perspiration that had forced itself outward was frozen on his clothintr, -so that he looked like a snow man. But whilst his limbs were achincr his breath was even, and as he stood there wondering why the halt had been called, hut glad of the moment's respite, faintly fcn the still air came a sound that there was no mistaking. " A rifle shot !" said the Grey Wolf. "Thev still fijrht ! We shall be in time." Again the Indians moved forward, slowly at first, but gathering pare as thev went, and in the ghostly darkness with the stars blazing coldlv overhead, they struck the head of the lake on which the cabin stood. Again the Grey Wolf called a halt, v gave his orders, and the little company, resolving itself into pairs. disappeared in the gloom along the separate trails. "We will go together, Rov," said the Grey Wolf, " and take the direct trail." To the tune of intermittent rifle-fire they moved on; and after a little time flashes punctuated the darkness ahead, and Ranleigh in his anxiety, found himself making a faster pace than his companion. " Steady, Roy ! I do not want to alarm the afctackeirs. I 'want to gather the whole bunch. That is why my Indians have gone ahead. Let them get in position. Whilst the firing continues your friend is probably safe." \ They moved forward together in silence The sound of firing grew clearer. They reached the cliff with its great vein of gold and there halted, whilst the Grey Wolf reconnoitred. He had - disappeared round the corner of the bluff, but a moment later he was back again. "They are at close quarters. Another minute " Hajbroke off. lifted his hands and gave the wolf-call which Ranleigh had heard on the night of his visit to the cabin As it rang weirdly through the stillness it was instantly responded to by a score of voices. "Come, Roy!" They ran forward together, and as they rounded the bluff Ranleigh saw vague shadows closing all round the cabin where two shadowy figures stood by the window, whilst another was outlined against the snow-covered logs, with a fourth standing in the 'shadow of the doorway. Taken by surprise, the attackers, attacked in turn, stood there frozen into immobility. The first of the Indians were on them before they had recovered from their surprise, and then Slackman's voice roared through the silence which had supervened on the din of strife. "Indians, by G ! Run, boys!" He himself set the example, plunging down toward the lake, and the Grey Wolf gathered him in his arms as if he had been a child. He struggled and cursed and writhed pantingly all in vain, until his captor spoke. "Steady, my man, or you will hurt yourself." At that he subsided and stared amazedly into the Grey Wolf's face. . "By heaven, you're a white man!" "By heaven, I am!" said the Grey Wolf, twisting him round, and locking his arm 3 deftly. "And here's another,, 81ackman!" said Ranleigh, as he slipped the captive's belt to secure him. "Well, I'll be shot!" "Or hanged!" commented Ranleigh, as he drew the buckle tight. "Thought yer was in ther cabin with thet girl an' Purnell." "Girl cried Ranleigh in amazement. "Yep. Didn't know about her, hey? Well, she's Stefanson's sister, an'——" Ranleigh stayed to hear no more; the other members of Slackman's crew were already in the hands of the Indians, and he made a bee-line toward the cabin door. . (To be continued on Saturday next.)