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Read books online » Fiction » Silver Lake by R. M. Ballantyne (freda ebook reader .txt) 📖

Book online «Silver Lake by R. M. Ballantyne (freda ebook reader .txt) 📖». Author R. M. Ballantyne



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this a heavy snow-storm set in, rendering the walking very difficult, as they sank, snow-shoes and all, nearly to the knees at each step. A storm of wind which arose about the same time, effectually stopped their farther advance, and obliged them to take to the shelter of a dense part of the woods and encamp.

During three days and three nights the hurricane raged, and the snow was blown up in the air and whirled about like the foam of the roaring sea; but our wanderers did not feel its effects much, for they had chosen a very sheltered spot at the foot of a large pine, which grew in a hollow, where a cliff on one side and a bluff of wood on the other rendered the blast powerless. Its fierce howling could be heard, however, if not felt; and as the brother and sister lay at the bottom of their hole in the snow, with their toes to the comfortable fire, they chatted much more cheerily than might have been expected in the midst of such a scene, and gazed upward from time to time with comparative indifference at the dark clouds and snow-drifts that were rushing madly overhead.

On the fourth day the gale subsided almost as quickly as it had arisen, and Roy announced that it was his intention to start. In a few minutes everything was packed up and ready.

“I say, Nell,” said Roy, just as they were about to leave the camp, “don’t the sled look smaller than it used to?”

“So it does, Roy; but I suppose it’s because we have eaten so much during the last three days.”

Roy shook his head, and looked carefully round the hole they were about to quit.

“Don’t know, lass; it seems to me as if somethin’ was a-wantin’. Did ye pack your own bundle very tight?”

“Yes; I think I did it tighter than usual, but I’m not very sure.”

“Hum—that’s it, no doubt—we’ve packed the sled tighter, and eaten it down. Well, let’s off now.”

So saying, Roy threw the lines of the sledge over his shoulder and led the way, followed by his sister, whose only burden was a light blanket, fastened as a bundle to her shoulders, and a small tin can, which hung at her belt.

The country through which they passed that day was almost destitute of wood, being a series of undulating plains, with clumps of willows and stunted trees scattered over it like islets in the sea. The land lay in a succession of ridges, or steppes, which descended from the elevated region they were leaving, and many parts of these ridges terminated abruptly in sheer precipices from forty to sixty feet high.

The sun shone with dazzling brilliancy, insomuch that the travellers’ eyes became slightly affected by snow-blindness. This temporary blindness is very common in these regions, and ranges from the point of slight dazzlement to that of total blindness; fortunately it is curable by the removal of the cause—the bright light of the sun on pure snow. Esquimaux use “goggles” or spectacles made of wood, with a narrow slit in them as a preventive of snow-blindness.

At first neither Roy nor Nelly felt much inconvenience, but towards evening they could not see as distinctly as usual. One consequence of this was, that they approached a precipice without seeing it. The snow on its crest was so like to the plain of snow extending far below, that it might have deceived one whose eyesight was not in any degree impaired.

The first intimation they had of their danger was the giving way of the snow that projected over the edge of the precipice. Roy fell over headlong, dragging the sledge with him. Nelly, who was a few feet behind him, stood on the extreme edge of the precipice, with the points of her snow-shoes projecting over it. Roy uttered a cry as he fell, and his sister stopped short. A shock of terror blanched her cheek and caused her heart to stand still. She could not move or cry for a few seconds, then she uttered a loud shriek and shrank backwards.

There chanced to be a stout bush or tree growing on the face of the cliff, not ten feet below the spot where the snow-wreath had broken off. Roy caught at this convulsively, and held on. Fortunately the line on his shoulder broke, and the sledge fell into the abyss below. Had this not happened, it is probable that he would have been dragged from his hold of the bush. As it was, he maintained his hold, and hung for a few seconds suspended in the air. Nelly’s shriek revived him from the gush of deadly terror that seized him when he fell. He grasped the boughs above him, and was quickly in a position of comparative security among the branches of the bush.

“All right, Nell,” he gasped, on hearing her repeat her cry of despair. “I’m holdin’ on quite safe. Keep back from the edge, lass—there’s no fear o’ me.”

“Are you sure, Roy?” cried Nelly, trembling very much, as she stretched forward to try to catch sight of her brother.

“Ay, quite sure; but I can’t get up, for there’s six feet o’ smooth rock above me, an’ nothin’ to climb up by.”

“Oh! what shall I do!” cried Nelly.

“Don’t get flurried—that’s the main thing, lass. Let me think—ay, that’s it—you’ve got your belt?”

“Yes.”

“Well, take it off and drop the end over to me; but lie down on your breast, and be careful.”

Nelly obeyed, and in a few seconds the end of the worsted belt that usually encircled her waist was dangling almost within reach of her brother. This belt was above five feet long. Roy wore one of similar material and length. He untied it, and then sought to lay hold of the other. With some difficulty and much risk of falling he succeeded, and fastened his own belt to it firmly.

“Now, Nell, haul up a little bit—hold! enough.”

“What am I to do now?” asked Nell, piteously; “I cannot pull you up, you know.”

“Of course not; but take your snow-shoe and dig down to the rocks—you’ll find somethin’, I dare say, to tie the belts to. Cheer up, lass, and go at it.”

Thus encouraged, the active little girl soon cleared away the snow until she reached the ground, where she found several roots of shrubs that seemed quite strong enough for her purpose. To one of these she tied the end of her belt, and Roy, being an athletic lad, hauled himself up, hand over hand, until he gained a place of safety.

“But the sledge is gone,” cried Nelly, pausing suddenly in the midst of her congratulations.

“Ay, and the grub,” said Roy, with a blank look.

This was indeed too true, and on examination it was found that things were even worse than had been anticipated, for the sledge had fallen on a ledge, half way down the precipice, that was absolutely inaccessible either from above or below. An hour was spent in ascertaining this, beyond all doubt, and then Roy determined to return at once to their last encampment to gather the scraps they had thrown away or left behind as useless.

That night they went supperless to rest. Next morning, they set out with heavy hearts for the encampment of the previous day. On reaching it, and searching carefully, they found that one of the bundles of dry meat had been forgotten. This accounted for the lightness of the sledge, and, at the same time, revived their drooping spirits.

“What is to be done now?” inquired Nelly.

“Return to Silver Lake,” said Roy, promptly. “We must go back, fish and hunt again until we have another supply o’ grub, and then begin our journey once more.”

Sadly and slowly they retraced their steps. Do what he would Roy could not cheer up his sister’s spirits. She felt that her back was turned towards her father’s house—her mother’s home—and every step took her farther from it.

It was a lovely evening, about sunset, when they reached Silver Lake, and found the hut as they had left it, and enough of old scraps of provisions to afford a sufficient meal.

That night they ate their supper in a more cheerful frame of mind. Next day they breakfasted almost with a feeling of heartiness, and when they went out to resume their fishing, and to set snares and make traps, the old feeling of hopefulness returned. Ere long, hope became again so strong in their ardent young hearts, that they laughed and talked and sported as they had done during the period of their first residence there.

At first they were so anxious to make up the lost quantity of food that they did little else but fish, hunt, and dry their provisions when obtained; but after a few days they had procured such an ample supply that they took to shoosking again—having succeeded in making a new sledge. But a thaw came suddenly and spoiled all their fish. A wolf carried off the greater part of their dried meat one day while they were absent from the hut. After this the frost set in with extreme violence, game became more scarce, and fish did not take the bait so readily, so that, although they procured more than enough for present consumption, they were slow in accumulating a travelling store; and thus it came to pass that November found Roy and Nelly still toiling wearily, yet hopefully, on the shores of Silver Lake.

Chapter Fifteen. The Massacre.

We must return now to Robin Gore and his wife, who, on the morning on which we re-introduce them to the reader, were standing in the trading store of Fort Enterprise, conversing earnestly with Black, the Indian, who has been already mentioned at the beginning of our tale. The wife of the latter—the White Swan—was busily engaged in counting over the pack of furs that lay open on the counter, absorbed, apparently, in an abstruse calculation as to how many yards of cloth and strings of beads they would purchase.

“Well, I’m glad that’s fixed, anyhow,” said Robin to his wife, as he turned to the Indian with a satisfied air, and addressed him in his native tongue, “it’s a bargain, then, that you an’ Slugs go with me on this expedition, is’t so?”

“The Black Swan is ready,” replied the Indian, quietly, “and he thinks that Slugs will go too—but the white hunter is self-willed; he has a mouth—ask himself.”

“Ay, ye don’t like to answer for him,” said Robin, with a smile; “assuredly Slugs has his own notions, and holds to ’em; but I’ll ask him. He is to be here this night, with a deer, I hope, for there are many mouths to fill.”

Black Swan, who was a tall, taciturn, and powerful Indian, here glanced at his wife, who was, like most Indian women, a humble-looking and not very pretty or clean creature. Turning again to Robin, he said, in a low, soft voice—

“The White Swan is not strong, and she is not used to be alone.”

“I understand you,” said Robin; “she shall come to the Fort, and be looked after. You won’t object to take her in, Molly, when we’re away?”

“Object, Robin,” said Molly, with a smile, which was accompanied by a sigh, “I’ll only be too glad to have her company.”

“Well, then, that’s settled; and now, Black Swan, I may as well tell you what coorse I mean to follow out in this sarch for my child’n. You know already that four white men—strangers—have come to the Fort, an’ are now smokin’ their pipes in the hall, but you don’t know that one on ’em is my own brother Jefferson; Jeff, I’ve bin used to call him. Jeff’s bin a harem-scarem feller all his life—active and able enough, an’ good natur’d too, but he never could stick to nothin’, an’ so he’s bin wanderin’ about the world till grey hairs have begun to show on him, without gettin’ a home or a wife. The last thing he tried

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