Frank Lillie Pollock

“ Fred struck straight north from the river, and then turned a little to the west. He examined the ground with the utmost care. The land lay in great ridges and valleys, and he soon found that prospecting was almost as rough work as fighting the river. In the valleys the earth was mucky with melting snow water; on the hills it was rocky, with huge boulders, tumbled heaps of shattered stone, slopes of loose gravel; everywhere was a tangle of stunted, scrubby birch and poplar, spruce and jack-pine. ”

“ He started down the river at a swinging trot, still listening over his shoulder, when the ice suddenly gave way under his feet, and he went down with so swift a plunge that he had time for only a shuddering gasp.
He had stepped on an airhole lightly crusted over with snow. He went down to his neck without touching bottom, and the black water surged up to his face. It was the gun that saved him; it caught across the hole, and he clung to it fiercely. As the current fortunately was not rapid, he was able to draw himself up and out upon the ice. ”

“ Fred had only the vaguest idea what a deer yard was like; he half expected a dense huddle of deer in a small, beaten space, and he was consequently much startled when he suddenly heard a sound of crashing and running in the thickets.
Macgregor's rifle banged almost in his ear. Maurice fired at the same instant. Something large and grayish had shot up into view behind a thicket, and had departed with the speed of an arrow. Peter fired again at the flying target, and Fred caught a single glimpse of a buck, with antlered head carried high, vanishing through a screen of birches. ”

“ Fred slackened his pace somewhat, but continued to keep in front. For nearly a mile from the river the land sloped gently upward through dense thickets of birch. Then the birches thinned, and finally gave way to evergreen, and the rising ground became rough with gravel and rock. The slope changed to undulating billows of hills, covered with stone of every size, from gravel to small boulders, and over it all grew a stubbly jungle of cedar and jack-pine, seldom more than six feet high. ”

“ Half awake, Fred made a blind snatch at the rifle that had been across his lap. It was gone.
The sky was bright with dawn. Ten feet away stood three men with leveled rifles. Horace and Mac were sitting up, holding their hands above their heads and looking dazed.
"I said you pups wouldn't bark so loud next time," remarked one of the newcomers. It was the man that had pretended to be a ranger. With him was the slim, dark fellow whom they had seen outside the trappers' shack, and the third was a tall, elderly, bearded man, who looked more intelligent and more vicious than the others. ”

“ His mind was full of the dangerous expedition that he had plunged into within the last hours. His imagination saw vividly the picture of the long ice road through the wilderness, a hundred and fifty miles to the lonely trappers' shack, where a white man lay sick with a bag of diamonds on his breast—or perhaps by this time lay dead with the secret of immense riches lost with him. And the ice road might close to-morrow. Fred tossed and turned in bed, and more than once got up to look out the window for signs of a snowstorm. ”

“ The trapper glared at them with a face as savage as a wildcat's. For a second Fred really expected him to shoot. Then, with a muttered curse, the man lowered his gun.
"You pups won't bark so loud when I come back!" he snarled. Then he turned, and started away at a rapid pace.
"Bluffed!" Fred exclaimed, trembling now that the strain was over.
"He's gone for the rest of his gang!" Mac cried. "Quick, we've got to get out of here!"
"Yes, and far away, too," said Horace, "now that we've caught the mother fox. We should never have got the male, anyway. Let's get this beauty into her box." ”

“ What did you find at the head of the river? You haven't—it isn't possible that you've hit it!"
"No, not diamonds," said Mac. "But we 've found something valuable." And he told of their discovery of the black foxes. "But the problem is how to get them," he finished. "The only way I can see is to shoot them at long range."
"Shoot them! Are you crazy?" exclaimed Horace, who was even more stirred by the news than they had expected. "Never! Catch 'em alive! They're worth their weight in gold."
"Alive! I never thought of that!" exclaimed Fred.
"Why, their fur is no good now. ”

“ In the afternoon Maurice ventured out to look for game, and came back about four o'clock with three spruce grouse and a frost-bitten nose. The boys were all standing outside the cabin door, when Fred suddenly started.
Round the bend a sledge had just appeared on the river. It was drawn by six dogs, coming at a flagging trot through the deep snow; four men on snowshoes ran behind and beside it. For a moment the men seemed to hesitate as they caught sight of the hut. But they came on, turned up the shore, and drove straight to the cabin at a gallop. ”

“ Peter rolled Fred off into the snow. The boy groaned, but did not waken, and they began to unpack the supplies with stiffened hands.
"Got to get something hot into us quick," said Peter thickly. "Help me make a fire."
Probably they were all nearer death than they realized. Maurice wanted only to sleep. However, in a sort of daze, he broke off branches, peeled bark, and they had a fire blazing up in the falling snowflakes. The wind whirled and scattered it, but they piled on larger sticks, and Macgregor filled the kettle from the river. ”

“ Killing yarded deer is not exactly sportsmanlike, and is unlawful besides; but law is understood to yield to the necessities of the frontier, and the boys needed the meat badly.
The next morning they were off early. It was clear and cold. A little wind blew the powdery snow like puffs of smoke from the trees, and the biting air was full of life. It was impossible to be anything but gay in that atmosphere; even Fred, oppressed with anxiety as he was, felt its effect. ”

“ The boys parted with hearty farewells—Maurice going home, Macgregor to his rooms, and Horace accompanying Fred to his boarding-house, where he intended to find quarters for himself.
"And now for the great question!" said Horace, when they were once indoors. "Are the diamonds worth anything, or are they not? I can't think of anything else till I find out."
"Why, I thought you were sure—" began Fred.
"So I am—in a general sort of way. But I'm not a diamond expert, and I may be deceived. It's just possible that the things may not be real diamonds at all. ”

“ They had left the axe in the canoe, and it was now somewhere at the bottom of the river. They could better have spared one of the guns, but they were thankful that their loss had been no greater.
"If we had left the foxes in the canoe," said Fred, "they'd have been drowned, sure!"
Horace had waded ashore, and now had a brisk fire going. Fred and Macgregor joined him, and the three boys stood shivering by the blaze, with their wet clothes steaming.
"We're well out of it," said Horace, with chattering teeth. "The worst is the loss of the axe. It won't be easy to make fires from now on." ”

“ Feeling sure, however, that they must be thirsty, the boys carried the cage to the river, and set one end of it into the shallow water. For a few minutes the mother fox was shy, but presently she drank eagerly; then the cubs dipped their sharp noses into the water.
The boys spread their only blanket on a few hemlock boughs and lay down. Although they were so thoroughly tired, none of them could sleep. Fred's stomach was gnawed by hunger; he was still much excited, and in the rush of the river he fancied every minute or two that he heard the trappers approaching. ”

“ This is not the natural home of diamonds, which are always found native to the peculiar formation known in South Africa as "blue clay." Nobody had ever found a trace of blue clay in Ontario, yet Horace felt certain that the blue-clay beds must exist. They were the only thing worth looking for. To poke over the river gravel in hopes of finding a chance stone would be sheer waste of time. Hundreds of men had done it without lighting on a single diamond.
Horace was a trained geologist, and that winter he spent much time in study, without saying a word even to Fred as to what he was meditating. ”

“ Fred was limping badly.
Late in the afternoon the boys stopped to rest on the top of a bare, rocky ridge, where the black flies were not so bad as in the valleys. They guessed that they were about four or five miles from camp. The sun shone level and warm from the west, and the boys sat in silence, tired and discouraged.
"I'm afraid we're not going to make a million this trip, Mac," said Fred, at last.
"No," Peter replied soberly. "Unless Horace has struck something."
"It's too big a country to look over inch by inch. ”

“ They all agreed on that point, but it was useless to think of following them without a canoe. The boys would have all they could do to save their own lives; a hundred-mile journey on foot across that wilderness, without arms and with almost no provisions, was a desperate undertaking.
"Well, we've got no choice," said Horace, after a dismal silence. "We must put ourselves on rations of about half a pound of meat a day, and we'll lay a bee-line course by the compass for the trail over the Height of Land." ”

“ Peter muttered.
"We couldn't foresee this," said Maurice. "Those fellows evidently knew that the diamonds were here—or strongly suspected it. They must have heard of it from your sick Indian, or from the third trapper. They must have been astonished to find us on the spot."
"Very likely," said Fred, "but the present question is what we're going to do to-night."
"We must make the best camp we can in the snow," remarked Maurice.
"I don't see how we'll cut wood without an axe," said Peter. "It's going to be a savage cold night. We have no blankets, either. Lucky we shot those partridges." ”

“ Maurice exclaimed. "Aren't we all Horace's friends? The only thing I'm thinking of is the grub. We have barely enough for a week more."
"What of that?" said Peter. "We have rifles, haven't we? The woods ought to be full of deer—plenty of partridges and small game, anyway. We must make a regular business of hunting till we get enough meat for a week, and we must economize, of course, on our bread and canned stuff. Then there are sure to be whitefish or trout in the nearest lake, and we can fish through the ice. Lucky the Indians left their hooks and lines. And we can trap, too." ”

“ I'd leave it till all the stuff is vaporized—say, a couple of hours. The only thing I dread is that some one may wake up; but then, he wouldn't know what the smell was, and the spirit flame is so pale that it's almost invisible."
They watched the cabin intently. All remained deathly quiet. It was very cold as they crouched there in the snow. Horace kept his rifle ready, but finally his vigilance slackened. They walked about to keep from freezing, talked in whispers, and still watched the silent hut.
Suddenly Horace clutched Fred's arm.
"Look!" he cried. "The cabin's on fire!" ”

“ Peter asked. "Is he a ranger—or a prospector?"
"They don't hire that kind of man for Government rangers," replied Horace. "And I'm certain there's no forest reserve here. Why, there's no timber worth preserving. He's a hunter or a prospector, and from his looks he's evidently been in the woods all winter, as he said. Perhaps he belongs to a party of prospectors who found a good thing last fall, and got snowed in before they could get out."
"Hunters wouldn't be so anxious to drive us away," said Fred. "They must be prospectors. Suppose they've found the diamond fields!" ”

“ They were all pretty much exhausted with the toil and excitement of the day.
"I vote we stop here," said Mac. "There'll be a moon toward midnight, and we can go on then. We ought to get some sleep."
"I'm too hungry to sleep," said Fred.
"Well, so am I," Mac admitted. "But we can rest, anyway."
So they drew up the canoe and lighted a fire, partly from force of habit and partly to drive away the mosquitoes. They carefully lifted the fox cage ashore.
"We've nothing for them to eat," Horace said anxiously, "but they ought to have water, at any rate." ”

“ He made a movement toward the fox.
"None of that!" cried Mac, sharply, and snapped a fresh cartridge into the rifle chamber.
"You would, would you?" cried the trapper, and instantly covered Peter with his gun. Fred had reloaded the shotgun, and he covered the man in his turn.
So for a moment they all stood at a deadlock.
"Put down your guns!" said Horace. "A fox pelt isn't worth killing a man for, and this pelt's no good, anyway. It's too late in the season. We're going to take this fox away with us alive. ”

“ The springs were a little stiff, but after they had been worked several times and well greased, the trap seemed to be almost as good as new.
"We should have three or four of them," said Peter. "Having only one trap gives us a slim chance. But suppose we do get them, what then?"
"Why, we'll have to have some sort of cage ready in which to carry them; then we'll make all the speed we can back to Toronto," replied Horace.
"And give up the diamond hunt?" cried Mac, in disappointment.
"What else can we do, anyhow?" replied Horace. "The flour is almost gone and we're almost barefoot. ”

“ Not a hair of a fox was in sight, but the burrow looked as if it could be opened with spade and pick. Horace thought they ought to do that first of all; in that way they could capture the cubs before there was any possible danger of the old foxes' moving the den.
On their way back to camp, Mac stopped at a marshy pool and cut a great armful of willow withes.
"It's lucky that I once used to watch an old willow worker making baskets and chairs," he said. "I'll see if I've forgotten the trick of it. We've got to make a cage, for we'll need one the instant we capture one of those cubs." ”

“ The canoe itself had not come off so well. It had a great rent in the bottom, and Horace stamped another hole through the bow. Then the boys examined their new outfit. From their own former store they had a kettle, a frying-pan, a box of rifle-cartridges, and a sack of tea. They had taken from the trappers' supplies half a sack of flour, a lump of salt pork, two blankets, and two rifles.
The half-breed had recovered his wits by this time; sitting on the bank, he glared savagely at them.
"You'll find your partners waiting for you up the river," Horace said to him. ”

“ Three pairs of snowshoes were thrust under the rafters; several worn moccasins lay on the floor, along with nearly a dozen steel traps, a bundle of furs, some of which were valuable, a camp kettle, an axe, strips of hide, dry bones, a blanket, fishing-tackle—an unspeakable litter of things, some worthless, some to men in a wilderness precious as gold. ”