The Island of Yellow Sands: An Adventure and Mystery Story for Boys

Again the man in the canoe answered, then turned and paddled towards the island. A few strokes and he was near enough so that even Ronald made sure that it was really the Ojibwa.

If the Indian was surprised to find his two companions on the burned over island, he gave no expression to the feeling. He came in close to the shore, but did not get out of the canoe, holding it off from the rocks with his paddle. “Canoe burned?” he asked briefly.

“Not burned, stolen,” Jean replied, and, without explaining how he and Ronald came to be on the island, he told how they had found the place where they had hidden their boat, empty, though the fire had not reached it.

The Indian cut short the boy’s explanations by motioning both lads into the canoe. When they were settled, he said sharply, “Paddle now. Get back to camp. Talk then.”

After a quick look across the water in the direction he had come, he suited his action to his words, paddling with quick, strong strokes. Seizing the other blade that lay in the boat, Ronald joined in, and they made good speed over the almost still water. Now and then Nangotook looked back over his shoulder. It was evident that he feared pursuit.

They reached the camp just as the sun was rising. Nangotook landed first, and the boys, as they were carrying up the canoe, heard him give a grunt, when he rounded a bush and came in view of the lodge. Only its framework was standing. The bark covering had been stripped off. The Indian stooped to examine the ground. In the ashes, where the fire had been, was the print of a moccasined foot, a large foot that turned out and pressed more heavily on the inner side than on the outer. “Awishtoya,” he growled, and when the boys saw the track they too felt sure that it had been made by the lame Frenchman. They had not left anything of value in the wigwam, except a pile of hare skins, which had disappeared of course. Alarmed for the safety of the dried meat, the lads ran to the tree where they had hung it. The birch bark package was gone. No animal would or could have carried it off in its entirety. The caribou hide, which had been stretched out to cure, had disappeared also.

“It was Le Forgeron’s red toque we saw on that island,” said Jean with conviction. “He was hiding somewhere when we landed. He set the woods on fire to destroy us. Then he took our canoe, came here and stole our meat.”

“There can be no doubt of it,” Ronald agreed.

Nangotook nodded. He was to add his confirmation to Jean’s surmises later. All he said at the time was, “Tell me, my brothers, all that has happened since we parted. Then we can take council together.”

So the boys related how they had searched for him without result, how they had been led to visit the island, and what had happened to them there. When they had finished, Nangotook told his story.

XXVII

NANGOTOOK’S CAPTIVITY

Nangotook had followed the caribou trail to the bog the animals were in the habit of visiting, and there he had wounded a stag so badly that it fell in its tracks. He ran up to it, and, finding it still alive, was stooping to give it the death stroke, when something struck him suddenly on the back of the head, and he knew nothing more. This part of the story he told somewhat shamefacedly. He was at a loss to understand how an enemy could have crept up on him, and blamed himself for allowing the caribou he was stalking to occupy all of his senses, to the exclusion of everything else.

When his spirit came back to his body, he was lying on his back, legs and arms bound, beside a fire, in a little open place surrounded by trees. It was dark, but he could not tell how far advanced the night was, for no stars were visible. On the opposite side of the fire sat the Cree Indian he had seen with Le Forgeron Tordu, and over the flames was a scaffold where meat was drying, the flesh of the caribou he had killed, as he learned later. Nangotook lay still, and, his head being in shadow, his open eyes were not noticed by the Cree. Presently a figure came out of the woods and up to the fire. Nangotook recognized the strong, squat form and ugly, scarred face of Le Forgeron.

After taking a look at the drying meat, the Frenchman came around the fire, and, standing directly over Nangotook, looked down at him. Thinking nothing was to be gained by feigning sleep, the Ojibwa stared back at Le Forgeron defiantly. He expected the taunt and ridicule that are usually heaped upon the Indian captive, but Le Forgeron merely nodded in a friendly manner and sat down beside his prisoner. The reason for his friendliness was not long in appearing. He had a proposition to make.

He knew, he said, that Nangotook and his companions were seeking a rich gold mine, but he, Awishtoya, intended to have that gold for himself. What could boys like the young Havard and the red-haired Kennedy do with such a mine, he asked. They were only lads without sense or judgment. If they found the gold they would go back to Montreal and brag of it, and other men, wiser and cleverer than they, would get control of the mine. All that the boys would ever gain from the discovery would be experience, but no riches. Then what would happen to Nangotook? If he thought he would share in the wealth of the mine, he was mistaken. The young are always ungrateful, and the lads would have no use for their guide once they had found the treasure. But even if they did not prove ungrateful, it would make no difference. They would be powerless to reward him, while the rich and clever men, who would take the mine away from them, would acknowledge no obligation to a poor savage. They would scorn him and kick him out when he went to plead for his share of the gold.

While the white man was presenting his argument, Nangotook kept silent, knowing well what the other was leading up to. At that point, however, it occurred to him that he might gain time and also learn more about what Le Forgeron actually knew of their quest, if he appeared to be influenced by the Frenchman’s arguments. So, when the latter described the treatment the poor Indian would receive at the hands of the men who would gain control of the mine, the Ojibwa allowed his expression to change and even gave a little grunt of assent. Thus encouraged, the Blacksmith began to show his purpose more plainly. He admitted with apparent frankness that, while he knew in general where to search for the gold mine, he was not familiar with its exact location. Otherwise he would not have troubled himself to bring Nangotook to his camp. His evil smile conveyed the impression that he would merely have struck the Indian down at the first good opportunity, and so have got him out of his way. However, he had spared Nangotook’s life and had brought him here, because he had need of him. Undoubtedly he, Awishtoya, could find the place if he searched closely enough, but the season was getting late, and he wanted to leave the lake before winter came. So he had taken this method, a harsh one he admitted, to have an interview with the Ojibwa and make him a proposition. If Nangotook would abandon his two companions and lead Le Forgeron to the gold mine, he would promise him half of all the wealth obtained from it, a generous offer, for the Indian would share none of the expense of taking out and transporting the gold.

Le Forgeron paused impressively at this point to let the idea sink in. Nangotook appeared to consider the proposition for some moments, then, speaking for the first time, asked what he, a poor Indian, with simple wants, could do with such great wealth.

His question was cleverly framed to give the impression that he knew the wealth in question would be indeed very great. He saw a gleam in the Frenchman’s eyes that assured him his shot had struck home.

In answer to the Indian’s question, Le Forgeron launched into a long and vivid description of the delights of wealth and of all the wonderful things Nangotook could do with it. Though selfish and evil himself, he was clever enough to realize that the Indian he was dealing with was of a higher type than most of his fellows. He not only described the pleasures of personal indulgence that could be bought with riches, but enlarged upon the opportunity to obtain power and become the greatest chief of the Ojibwas and of all the Indian tribes, able to deal on terms of equality with the white men and their chiefs, even with the great white father across the sea in England and the other white father whom the men who called themselves Americans served! Nangotook could make his own people the greatest, the most prosperous, the happiest of all the Indian nations. He could prevent them from ever knowing famine, or even hunger again, though the game should disappear from the woods, the fish from the lakes, and the wild rice from the streams and the marshes, for he could purchase from the white men great ship loads of flour, pork and all other articles of food. He could supply his people with the best of guns and all the ammunition they needed, with an abundance of iron kettles, utensils and implements of all kinds, the thickest and warmest of blankets, clothes as good as the richest white men wore and luxuries and ornaments that would arouse the envy of all the other tribes. The Ojibwas could tread under their feet their hereditary enemies, the great Sioux nation.

It was a vivid and, to an Indian, an attractive picture Le Forgeron painted, and Nangotook admitted that it would have moved him greatly if he had had any confidence in the good faith and promises of the man beside him. But he knew Awishtoya, and as he lay looking up into his face, appearing to drink in his words, he could see, he declared, the greed and treachery and evil under the innocent expression.

“His words were smooth and sweet to the ear as the maple sap in spring is to the taste,” said Nangotook, “yet I knew that he spoke with a forked tongue, and in his voice I could hear the hissing of the spotted snake.”

The Ojibwa knew better than to refuse the proposition at once however. He must play for time until he could find some means of escape. So he appeared to consider the Blacksmith’s offer, but said he could not make up his mind on such an important matter so quickly. He must have time to think. Perhaps by the next morning he would be able to give an answer.

Le Forgeron was familiar with Indian nature and knew he would gain nothing by arguing farther just then, but might lose some of the influence he had already acquired. So he dropped the subject, and leaving his captive’s side, ordered the Cree to give “the guest” something to eat. The Cree did as he was commanded, bringing Nangotook a large birch bowl of steaming caribou stew, and untying his hands so he could eat it. After the prisoner had eaten, Le Forgeron offered him some tobacco. Nangotook did not feel that he could refuse it without exciting the white man’s suspicions. To have smoked it, however, would have been a sign of peace between them. The Ojibwa, being too honest for that, managed in the darkness to slip the tobacco into his pouch, and to take out a little of his own kinni-kinnik instead. After he had smoked, the Cree tied his hands again, and Nangotook closed his eyes and appeared to sleep.

He had no chance to escape that night. Even if he had been able to loose his bonds, he could not have got away, for one or the other of his captors remained awake to tend the meat on the scaffold. The next morning he still delayed answering Le Forgeron Tordu’s proposition, making the excuse that, though he had asked for counsel, his totem or guardian spirit had not signified either in a dream or in any other way what he should do. Awishtoya’s words and promises had sounded good to him, he said, but the matter was a serious one. He had never deserted a companion who trusted him, and he was bound especially to Jean Havard by gratitude to Jean’s father, who had saved his life. What would become of the two white lads if he forsook them, he asked.

Le Forgeron had been expecting that question, and had a ready answer. If Nangotook would lead him to the gold mine at once, he would then leave the Ojibwa free to return to the two boys, whom he would pledge himself not to injure in the meantime. Of course Nangotook must promise not to reveal to them that he had found the mine. Instead he must tell them that he could not find the place. Then he must take them away immediately to Grande Portage. “In that way,” said the crafty Frenchman, “you can fulfill your agreement with me, and at the same time save the lives of your companions, and return the young Havard to his father.” Again he smiled his evil smile, hinting that if Nangotook did not accept his proposition, the lives of his comrades would most certainly not be saved.

Again the Indian read the evil purpose underlying the smooth words. He was sure that no matter what agreement he made, the Blacksmith would never, if he could help it, let any of the three escape alive. They knew too much about his plans and purposes. It would be much simpler for him to destroy them all, than to risk their telling tales against him if he found the gold and did not share his fortune with them. The Ojibwa was convinced that Le Forgeron was not the kind of a man to share anything, whatever he might promise. He kept his thoughts to himself though, and, after appearing to consider for some time, answered that he would ask his totem for counsel again that night, and would give his reply the following morning. Once more Le Forgeron, used to dealing with savages who could not be hurried, consented. He had not used all his arguments yet, but was saving the strongest for the last, and he felt very sure he should succeed. Apparently, it did not occur to him that his prisoner might not know just where the gold mine was. He seemed perfectly confident that the Indian could lead him there speedily if he would, and Nangotook was careful not to undeceive him. He knew that his life and that of the two boys hung on the Frenchman’s belief that the Ojibwa could be useful to him.

The task of guarding the captive was left to the Cree that day, and he proved a careful and zealous guard. Not for one moment did he go out of sight of his prisoner, and Nangotook, after sounding him cautiously, decided that he could not be tampered with. His loyalty to, or fear of, Awishtoya was too great.

There was no drying meat to be watched that night, and the prisoner hoped for a chance of escape. He had carefully tried his bonds, and had made up his mind that there was no way of slipping or loosening them. He must gnaw through the thongs, cut them by drawing them across something sharp, or burn them by placing them against a live coal. The gnawing would take a long time, and if he was found with partly severed bonds, he knew he would be tied more tightly as a result, his hands bound behind his back probably so that he could not get at them. Up to that time, though his wrists were firmly fastened together, his arms had not been tied to his body. No knives or sharp things were within reach, so he resolved to try burning the thongs.

He lay with his feet to the fire, and to reach it he must roll over and around. He waited for a good opportunity to make the move, but the chance was slow in coming. The Cree slept close to him, and slept very lightly. Every time Nangotook made the slightest movement, the latter either woke or stirred in his sleep as if about to wake. At last the captive succeeded in rolling over and turning part way around, but his guard woke and gave him a brutal kick. It was some time before the Cree settled down to sleep again. As soon as the latter was breathing deeply, Nangotook attempted to turn a little farther, but a stick under him cracked, and the Cree was up in a moment. Probably he suspected what his prisoner was trying to do, for, after giving him another savage kick, he replenished the fire and sat close to it, wide awake, the rest of the night.

Balked in his attempts to escape, Nangotook had to fence for time again. He thought seriously of appearing to agree to Le Forgeron’s proposal, and leading him somewhere, anywhere. His ankles would have to be unbound for land traveling, but he knew that he would be forced to go ahead with a loaded weapon at his back. He might have to travel so far before he could escape, that it would be difficult to get back to the boys. Moreover, before they started, either Le Forgeron or the Cree might waylay and destroy the lads. Why the Blacksmith had not done so before that, the Ojibwa could scarcely understand.

Once more he tried to put Le Forgeron off, but this time he did not succeed so well. The Twisted Blacksmith grew angry at the delay and told him sharply that he could not have another night to make up his mind. He must decide before sunset, so they might start that evening. The Frenchman would delay no longer. He thought the time had come to try threats as well as persuasion, so he told Nangotook that unless he agreed promptly it would be the worse for him and his friends. He had the Ojibwa in his power and could do what he willed with him. The two boys were as good as in his hands. They could not escape him. When the three were once “out of the way,” he would find the gold anyway, he asserted. He knew the place was near by. A week’s search at the farthest must reveal it to him. Then Nangotook would have sacrificed his life and his companions’ lives all for nothing, when he might have had wealth and power.

The Indian appeared deeply concerned at these threats, and promised to make up his mind by nightfall. From the white man’s remarks he had learned two important things, first that Le Forgeron had no definite idea where the gold mine was, and second that he did not associate it with the Island of Yellow Sands. Whatever he had heard of the lads’ conversation that night at the Grande Portage, he had not caught anything that served to connect their search with the island of the Indian tales, tales he must have heard more than once. He knew merely that they were seeking some rich deposit of gold, and he had been following them without any knowledge where they would lead him. It was evident that he suspected the mine was either on or near the island of Minong.

Le Forgeron was both restless and ugly that morning, abusing the Cree until Nangotook wondered the latter did not turn on him. The Indian appeared to be a sort of slave to the white man, and was in deadly fear of him. Probably it was the magic power which the Indians, and many of the whites as well, supposed the Twisted Blacksmith to possess, that his slave dreaded, rather than his brutality or physical strength.

Some time after the sun had reached its height and had begun to decline again, Le Forgeron told the Cree sharply to look to his charge. He was going to leave the island a while he said, but he might be back any time, and unless he found everything to his satisfaction, the Cree knew what would happen. Then he cast a threatening glance at Nangotook, and went limping off among the trees. The captive had suspected from the appearance of the place that the camp was on a small island, but he had not been sure until now. The departure of Le Forgeron worried him, for he feared his enemy might be going to work some evil on the two boys. The man hated Ronald, and would not be content, the Indian believed, with merely killing the lad, but would devise some especially cruel way of getting rid of him. Yet Nangotook could not follow Le Forgeron. Even if he could escape the watchful eyes of the Cree, or manage in some way to overpower him, he could not get away until the Blacksmith came back, for the latter must have taken his canoe. There was nothing for the captive to do but to remain quiet and feign indifference.

Nangotook did not have to give his decision at sunset, for Le Forgeron had not returned. Darkness fell and night came on, but still the Frenchman did not come. The breeze brought the smell of smoke from the northeast. Nangotook was sure the woods were burning somewhere. The smoke grew thicker, and the Cree became anxious, but would not leave his charge even to find out if the fire was on the island.

After a time the smoke thinned, and was hardly perceptible by the time Le Forgeron returned. Nangotook feigned to be sleeping, and the Blacksmith did not disturb him. Le Forgeron seemed restless. He would sit by the fire for a few minutes, then get up and wander off through the woods. As long as his master was awake, the Cree feared to sleep, but both of them quieted down at last. As if to make up for their former wakefulness, they slept with unusual soundness.

When his captors were snoring loudly, Nangotook made another attempt to reach the fire. That time he succeeded. Lying on his side, he stretched his arms out over the embers, and held the thongs against a glowing coal until they were so charred he could pull them apart. He burned his hands and wrists in the process, but he did not heed the pain. When his hands were free, he did not untie his feet immediately, but quietly and slowly, a few inches at a time, dragged himself over the ground, away from the Cree and into the shadows of the trees. There, behind a bush, he untied the cords that were about his ankles, rose to his feet and slipped silently into the woods. The cry of an owl caused him to duck suddenly. The noise must have disturbed Le Forgeron, for Nangotook heard him mumble an oath.

The Ojibwa remained motionless, expecting every moment that his absence would be discovered, and that he would have to run or fight. His bow and arrows, knife and ax had been taken from him when he was first captured, before he regained consciousness. But neither Le Forgeron nor the Cree roused enough to think of the prisoner. He waited a while, until he was sure from their deep breathing that they were sleeping soundly, then slipped away, going in the same direction the Frenchman had gone that morning. The goings and comings of the two had made a clear trail, and even in the darkness Nangotook had no trouble in keeping it. It led him to a rocky shore where a canoe lay above water line.

Day was dawning, and the Ojibwa knew he must hurry. Perhaps it was his haste that prevented him from noticing whether there was another canoe anywhere near by. Indeed he never thought of there being more than one. Embarking at once, he paddled away swiftly but without sound. He could see that the island, where he had been held, was off the main shore of the big island, to the southwest of the cove mouth, and he made speed back towards the camp where he had left his comrades. He was steering to run between the burned island and the shore, when he heard Jean’s call across the water, the Indian call he had taught the lad when he was a little child. Nangotook not only knew the call, but he recognized Jean’s voice and his way of uttering the syllables.

XXVIII

FLEEING FROM LE FORGERON

After Nangotook had finished his narrative, Ronald asked him how Le Forgeron had managed to follow them through storm and fog, and yet not lose track of them. The boys knew that the Indians, among whom he had lived for many years, regarded him as a great medicine man and believed him to have magic powers which they respected and feared. Nangotook answered that the Frenchman had hinted that he had learned of the gold-seekers’ quest in some mysterious way, and had asserted that, from the first, he had had them in his power. They could not escape him, he said, no matter how hard they might try. But the Ojibwa knew that all this might be mere boasting to put his prisoner in awe of him. The fact that Le Forgeron had not discovered that it was the Island of Yellow Sands the three were seeking, as well as his betrayal of his dependence on his captive’s leadership, rather destroyed Nangotook’s faith in Awishtoya’s magic powers. So, in the white man’s absence, he had questioned the Cree, leading up to the subject so carefully that the latter had not suspected he was being quizzed.

From what the Cree told him, Nangotook discovered that Le Forgeron had not tracked the treasure-seeking party as easily or readily as he pretended. Whether he had overheard them say something about the Rock of the Beaver, and, knowing the place, had gone there directly, or had trailed them along the north shore of the lake, Nangotook had not learned. At any rate it was the smoke of his fire they had seen when they left the Rock. He had watched them go and had noted their course, but had not followed until darkness came. He did not wish to be observed by them, and had trusted that, if he kept to the same course, he would reach whatever place the gold-seekers were headed for. The Cree evidently believed that it was by Awishtoya’s magic powers alone that the two had survived the storm and reached land. Instead of being cast up on a barren rock, as the others had been, they had been driven on the shore of the island that Nangotook and the boys had reached two days later. They had narrowly escaped being battered on the rocks at the northern end, but had managed to avoid wreck, and had found a refuge in the cave where Ronald had discovered the remains of their camp.