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

It was the wind that settled the dispute. The morning was calm, but before the explorers had skirted the rock shores of all the islands that defined the southeastern limits of the bay, the wind was blowing strong and cold from the north. They found crossing the bay to the shelter of the shore difficult and dangerous enough. Paddling in such a strong side wind out into the open lake was out of the question. If they went along shore, however, they would be well protected by high land.

That morning they found two hares caught in the snares. A lynx had robbed a third snare. Hares seemed plentiful in that vicinity, for several had come out into the open in plain sight the night before. The least move towards them startled them back into the thicket, and the campers did not wish to waste any ammunition as long as they could use snares. For the boy or man who is not compelled to find his food or his living in the wilderness, snaring and trapping are cruel and wholly unnecessary. They are certainly not sport, and there is no excuse for indulging in them. But Jean and Ronald, brought up in a more brutal age, were accustomed to consider the trapping of animals as a legitimate and natural means of livelihood. To set traps was to them the easiest and best way to obtain food and furs. They were not cruel by nature, but they had probably never considered for one moment the painful sufferings of a hare hanging by its neck in a noose. Indeed in their time, animals were commonly supposed to be so far below man in every way as to have scarcely any feelings at all.

It was not until afternoon that the adventurers started to paddle along shore to the northeast. For about two miles they ran between outlying, wooded islands and the main shore, then along an unprotected coast of gently sloping dark rock, with many cracks and crevices, but almost no projecting points of any considerable length. Above the water line, dark green moss and lichens grew in patches, farther up were juniper and creeping plants, and beyond them bushes and forest. There were no sands, and no large bays, coves or harbors. The day was brilliantly bright and clear, but across the water to the east no sign of land was visible, even to the Indian’s keen eyes.

For nearly two hours the explorers paddled along the rock shore, then, on rounding a slight projection, came suddenly to an inlet. The place looked as if it might be the mouth of a river, and curiosity led them to turn in. Up the inlet they paddled for about a mile, to a spot where a stream discharged. Beyond the mouth of the stream the cove made a turn to the left, extending at least another mile in that direction. The place was a beautiful one, with thickly wooded shores and points, but the three did not delay longer to investigate it.

As they went on along the rock coast, the wind became more easterly, and clouds began to fleck the deep blue. Paddling was not so easy, although they were still fairly well protected. Four or five miles beyond the inlet, the shore made a sudden turn, and they found themselves going directly north, with the northwest wind striking them at an angle. As they proceeded, the water grew rougher and navigation more difficult. Just as the sun was setting, they were glad to put into another cove that cut into the land in a westerly direction.

As they were paddling slowly along, undecided whether to make a landing or turn back and attempt to go on along shore, Jean uttered a sudden low but surprised exclamation, and pointed to the summit of the high ridge that stretched along the north side of the cove. There, in an open space, beyond a twisted jack pine tree and plainly outlined against the sky, stood an animal with spreading antlers.

“Addick!” whispered the Indian, while Ronald exclaimed, “A caribou!”

There was now no further question of going on. The opportunity to obtain a store of meat was too good. The wind was blowing from the animal to the hunters, and it had not caught their scent or heard them, but while they looked for a landing place, it saw them and moved away to cover. It went deliberately. Possibly it had never seen a man before, and did not know enough to be badly frightened. The travelers were too far away for a shot anyway.

They landed near the head of the bay on a sandy beach, and organized their hunt. Only one gun remained, for Jean’s had been lost when he and Ronald rescued Etienne from drowning. There was enough ammunition for four or five shots. It would not do to miss even once, so Ronald was entrusted with the gun. He was to climb the ridge and make his way towards the place where they had seen the animal, while the others went around to head it off and drive it back towards Ronald, if that should be necessary.

The ridge proved to be about a hundred feet high, steep and rocky on its south side and scatteringly clothed with aspen and jack pines. When he reached the top, near the place where the caribou had appeared, Ronald had some difficulty in finding the animal’s tracks on the almost bare rock. Presently, however, he came across a half eaten clump of reindeer moss, and the mark of a spreading hoof in a patch of earth in a hollow. Once on the caribou’s trail, he tracked it along the ridge for a little way, noticing, as he went, a hare runway and some lynx tracks. The trail led him down into a gully, and through the aspens and birches that grew there, to the north side of the ridge and into a bog. There in the thick sphagnum moss, the spreading hoof prints were plain.

With the idea that the bog might be the caribou’s refuge when disturbed, Ronald made his way very cautiously. It was well that he went so quietly, for suddenly, as he rounded a clump of tamaracks, he came in plain view of his game, head down, contentedly browsing a bog plant. The animal was only a few yards away and a perfect mark, but Ronald, experienced hunter though he was, felt his arm tremble as he raised his gun. He had never hunted before when so much depended on his aim, or when his ammunition was so precious. Luckily the caribou had caught neither sound nor scent of him, and he had time to steady himself before firing. He did not waste his powder. The animal sprang into the air, plunged forward a few steps and fell in its tracks.

Ronald set up a shout and sprang forward. His call was not needed, for the report of his gun was enough to summon his companions. The Ojibwa, who had been skirting the north side of the ridge, was not far away and soon made his appearance. Jean was going along the summit and had more difficulty in locating the sound of the shot, but arrived at the edge of the gully in time to catch sight of the others making their way through it with their game.

They had no intention of paddling farther that night. The next thing to do was make camp, cook themselves a good meal of meat and dry the rest for future use. With such a supply, they were equipped to start out into the open lake as soon as they could decide which way to go. Much encouraged, they selected a place on the flat topped ridge, and set about their task.

XVIII

MINONG

The caribou meat was cut into thin strips and laid on a frame of poles and twigs raised a few feet above the ground. Then a fire was kindled under it, and the meat turned occasionally to dry evenly in the heat and smoke. Rain was threatening, so a protecting roof of bark, with a few smoke holes, was raised over the frame, and a wind shield set up on the east side. The propped up canoe furnished enough shelter for the campers.

To keep the fire going under the drying frame, and to prevent wild animals, which might be attracted by the smell of the meat, from approaching it, the three took turns remaining awake that night. Several times dark shapes were discerned moving beyond the firelight, and cat-like eyes gleamed in the shadows of the trees and bushes, but the lynxes were suspicious of the fire. Whenever the watcher made a threatening movement, they took fright, and it was not necessary to waste shots on them.

Before morning rain began to fall, fine and cold, but it ceased after sunrise. The lake was still rough, the wind a little east of north, the sky gray with scudding clouds, and the air so cold and raw that, September though it was, a snowstorm would not have surprised the voyageurs.

After breakfast the boys set out to explore, curious to learn something of the lay of the land about them, and hoping that they might come across another caribou. They descended the north side of the ridge, crossed the bog, sinking to their ankles in the wet moss and underlying mud, penetrated the bordering growth of alders, willows and other bushes, and went through tamaracks and balsams to higher ground. The country proved to be a succession of ridges and depressions. The explorers found themselves going up and down almost continually, over rocky slopes and through deep leaf mould and moss-covered boggy places, until, after climbing a ridge, they came again to the water, a strait, as it appeared, of not more than half a mile in width, extending in either direction. By that time the wind was blowing the clouds away, and the air was clearing. Beyond the strait the boys could see wooded land rising up and up in successive ridges.

As they stood looking at the high land across the water, Jean said thoughtfully, “I feel strongly that we should climb those hills, and try to get our bearings before we go farther. From there we can surely tell whether we are on mainland or island. If this is an island, we may be able to see the shore and find some landmark to show us in what part of the lake we are. Then we can decide which way to go.”

Ronald nodded. “From that island where we were staying so long,” he said, “we saw the Sleeping Giant. If it was really the cape and not the deceitful appearance of the mirage, we may be able, from that high place, to see it again. Then truly we shall know that we’re not many miles from the northwest shore, on Royale or one of the other great islands. I’ve felt loath to be spending time on such an inland trip, but there seems no good prospect of going forward by water to-day. By this time all of our meat must be well enough dried so we need not be keeping up the fire. We will go back, bring the canoe, cross this stretch of water and strike inland at once.”

The two boys hastened back the way they had come. Etienne agreed to their plan, but said they must first put their store of meat in a safe place where the lynxes could not get at it. So it was wrapped tightly in several large sheets of bark, tied firmly with withes, and suspended by tough spruce roots, which would not break and could not be easily gnawed through, from the branch of a gray pine tree. A lynx might crawl out on the branch and drop down on the swinging bundle, but he would have hard work to tear it open. As a final protection the Indian had rubbed the smooth bark covering with caribou fat until it was so slippery that the surprised cat must slide off the moment he touched it, before he had a chance to dig his sharp claws in. At least that was what Etienne said would happen to Besheu, the lynx, if he tried to investigate the package. Doubtless he would not make the attempt in the daytime anyway, and they would surely be back before night.

While the lads were away, Etienne, though he had not left the drying meat for more than a few minutes at a time, had discovered that their camp was on a cape or promontory. He believed that, by paddling a little way to the north along shore, they could reach, without portaging, the strait or bay the boys had found. At least they might arrive at a spot where they would be separated from that strait by a point or narrow stretch of land only. Though the head wind was strong, they decided to make the attempt. To carry the canoe so far through woods and bogs would be slow, hard work.

Running out of the bay, they headed towards the north. After struggling against wind and waves for half or three-quarters of a mile, going part of the time among little rock islets and passing the mouths of several small bays, the voyageurs reached, as the Indian had foretold, the stretch of water the boys had come out upon. It was partly protected from the wind, and they crossed without difficulty. They could see that the strait extended for several miles at least on either hand, and was bounded by what appeared to be continuous land on both sides, but they could not tell positively whether the shores ran together in the distance or whether there was an opening between them.

The gold-seekers landed on low ground near the mouth of a small stream, concealed the canoe among the bushes and started inland. At first they kept to the main direction of the stream, though they did not always follow it closely, as it made several bends and turns and in some places its banks were so overgrown that the explorers would have had to cut a way through. The conditions along the brook seemed to be continually changing. It made its way through thick forest of spruce, birch and white cedar, among thickets of alder, dogwood and mountain maple, where the leaves were turning yellow and red and beginning to fall, it rippled and foamed over rocks through narrow gullies between steep ridges, slipped quietly along among aspens and birches, and crept sluggishly through bogs covered with spongy moss, pitcher plants, labrador tea and other bog growths. When the stream made a bend to the southwest, the explorers parted company with it, and struck off to the northwest.

Their way lay over a succession of ridges, but they were reaching higher and higher ground. Most of the time they traveled through more or less open woods, but sometimes over steep stretches of bare, rocky hillside. The forest was principally evergreen, and there was one tract of towering white pines, some of them with trunks three or four feet in diameter. As the rise became steeper, the bare rock slopes more frequent, the three, feeling that they must be near the summit of the highest ridge, pressed forward eagerly. Even the Indian increased the speed of his springy, tireless stride, so that the boys, strong and active though they were, had hard work keeping up with him. He was the first to climb the final steep slope. The lads could see him standing motionless gazing towards the west and north. Jean, whose lighter weight gave him an advantage over Ronald in climbing, scrambled up next, and uttered a sharp exclamation. Sky and air had cleared while the explorers were making their way through the woods, and he could see far over the water.

There, faint and blue, was the Cape of Thunder, the Sleeping Giant, the rock figure of the manito Nanabozho. The view was not quite the same as the one from the island where they had been wind-bound so long, but the outlines were unmistakable. It was not the Giant alone that was visible in the distance. Farther to the north were misty headlands barely discernible, while to the south of the Cape was another blue outline. As Jean was straining his eyes to make out every bit of land visible, Ronald joined him. Jean turned to his companion excitedly.

“See,” he said, pointing first to the blue shape farthest to the south, then to the others, “the Isle de Paté] the Pointe au Tonnerre, and away to the north the headlands of the great bay beyond. Now we know where we are indeed.”

“On Minong,” said Nangotook conclusively. “Grande Portage over there,” and he pointed to the west. No shore line was visible, but the boys knew from the positions of Pic Island, as it is now called in translation of the French name, and Thunder Cape, that the Portage must be somewhere in that direction.

“Yes,” agreed Ronald, “we’re not on the shore, that is certain, and this is no small island. We must have come fifteen or twenty miles along its shore, and we’ve not crossed half-way.” He pointed to the land that lay below them, thick woods and stripes and spots of gleaming water, stretching for several miles, and beyond that land the open lake. “We’re surely on Minong or Philippeau.”

“Minong,” insisted the Indian positively. “I have been on this island before, but it was from the direction of the setting sun we came, not from the rising sun.”

“You landed on the west side then?” asked Jean. “That is why you did not recognize the place this time?”

“Thought it was Minong all the time,” replied Nangotook, “not sure. Sure now.”

“You’re certain ’tis not Philippeau?” Ronald questioned.

The Indian nodded. “Been here,” he repeated. “Philippeau – ” He shook his head. “Maybe there is such an island, maybe not. I never saw it, never knew Indian who had seen it.”

“But white men have seen it,” said Jean. “I never heard of one who had landed on it, but some have caught sight of it, on clear days, far across the water. They have put it on their maps, but always east of Royale, or Minong as you call it. No, we cannot be on Philippeau, but perhaps we can get a glimpse of it.”

Turning, the French boy gazed intently in the other direction, the one in which they had come. He could see the narrow ribbon of the strait or harbor they had crossed, wooded islands beyond it, and the open lake stretching to the horizon, but no faintest shadow of distant land in that direction. A look of disappointment crossed his face. It was not so much Philippeau for which he was seeking as the mysterious, the much desired Island of Yellow Sands.

“Etienne,” he said soberly, “do you really believe there is any Island of Yellow Sands? Do you suppose we shall ever find it?”

“My grandfather saw it,” the Ojibwa replied. “I have told you the story. Whether we shall reach it I know not. The manitos of the lake seem unfriendly to us. Give up the search, little brother, at least until the snows have come and gone once more. Be warned in time.”

“We will not give it up,” cried Ronald hotly. “To be turning back, while we still have time to find and secure the gold before winter comes, would be foolish as well as craven. But ’tis of no use to seek it near here. We’re too far south and west, according to Nangotook’s own story. We must travel on to the north end of this island first. From there we may get a glimpse of the place we seek. If not, we can at least strike north and east for a day or even a half day’s journey. If then we come not within sight of the isle, it will be time enough to give up the search. What say you, Jean?”

“I am as loath to give it up as you,” Jean replied, “and,” he added more cheerfully, “I think your plan a good one. As you say, we can at least postpone talk of turning back until we have made one more attempt. Let us return to our camp and be in readiness to go on. The strait we crossed is somewhat sheltered. We can go on along it, perhaps to-*night, to-morrow at the latest.”

The Indian said nothing. Jean glanced at his impassive face, then thinking to change the subject, asked, “What came you to the island for, Etienne? You say you have visited it before.”

“For copper, little brother,” the Ojibwa answered. “On the northern side of this island, copper stones can be picked up from the shores and dug out of the hillsides, sometimes in pieces as large as my hand,” holding out his closed fist, “not in such little bits as this,” and he pointed with his toe to the rock at his feet.

The boys had been too much interested in the distant prospect to notice the rock on which they stood. Now as they glanced down, Jean uttered an exclamation, “Look, Ronald, this is copper rock indeed.” Scattered here and there were streaks and flecks of free metal.

Ronald bent to examine it “Truly it is copper,” he said, “but in bits too small to be of any value. Had we time we might prospect and come upon larger veins. ’Tis like enough that this whole ridge is rich with it. But we’ve no time to make a search. We’re seeking a far more precious metal, where it may be gathered easily without the labor of digging and blasting.” And he started to lead the way back over their trail.

The trip down the ridge and to the shore was made much more quickly than the upward journey. The explorers had not taken the trouble to blaze their way, though Nangotook had sliced off a branch here and there with his ax. In the woods the signs of their passage were clear enough for an experienced woodsman to follow almost without conscious thought, while the downward slope of the ground most of the way to the stream, and the Indian habit of taking swift but sure note of surroundings furnished them with more than sufficient guidance everywhere. Nangotook led again and went swiftly and unhesitatingly, scarcely appearing to look about him.

During the whole trip up and back they saw no caribou tracks, but they came upon many traces of hares and lynxes, squirrels scolded at them from the trees, and, as they reached the stream, a mink, that had been fishing, glided swiftly up the opposite bank. Ronald inquired if the Indians ever trapped on Minong, but Etienne answered that he had never heard of any one wintering there. “Too far from mainland,” he said. “Too hard to get across when wind blows and storm comes.”

They found the canoe safe, their camping place undisturbed, and the package of caribou meat untouched. The wind was now directly in the north, and the harbor or strait was well enough protected by its northwest shore to make traveling along it safe. Delaying only for a meal of caribou meat, the three embarked again, with the intention of going as far as possible before darkness came.

XIX

LE FORGERON TORDU AGAIN

The stretch of water proved to be a long bay, with continuous shore on its northwest side, and a chain of wooded islands sheltering it from the southeast. The gold-seekers paddled steadily until nightfall compelled them to make a landing in a little cove beyond a point. Navigation through unknown waters, where reefs and shoals might be encountered, was perilous in the darkness. Though sharp and cold, the night was clear, so the three did not crawl under the canoe, but lay down in the open with their feet to the fire. When they woke at dawn, the fire had gone out, and ground and trees around them were silvered with white frost. The boys were stiff and chilled, but the exercise of cutting wood, and a breakfast of hot caribou broth, made from the dried meat boiled in the birch bark basket, soon warmed them.

Paddling out from the cove, their blades keeping time to they continued to the northeast along a rock coast, now rising in steep cliffs, again sloping gradually to the water, but broken, eaten out, riven and piled up into all sorts of shapes. The protecting islands, a half mile or more away, became smaller, farther apart and more barren. Soon the rock shore terminated in a point, and the travelers turned to the north, ran past the end of the point, and found themselves crossing another bay. To left and to right were wooded islands, while ahead stretched a long, forest-crowned ridge, which appeared to be several hundred feet high.

“L’on, ton, laridon, danée,L’on, ton, laridon, dai,”

“That must be part of the same ridge we climbed,” said Ronald eyeing it with interest.

The Indian grunted an assent. “Runs through whole of Minong,” he replied.

The rising wind, penetrating between the islands, made paddling hard work, until the voyageurs reached the shelter of the high ridge. There, turning to the northeast again, they followed a narrow passage between ridge and islands, where the water was scarcely disturbed by a ripple. But when they came out from shelter, near the end of a long, high point, the full force of the wind struck them, and they were glad to turn back and make a landing on a bit of pebble beach.

Before they turned, however, they saw, as they looked out over the heaving waves of the lake, a bit of land to the northeast. When they had carried the canoe up on the beach, the two boys with one accord started to make their way to the end of the point, in the hope of getting a better view of the speck of land across the water. They estimated that it was four or five miles away. It was exactly in the direction they intended to take in their search for the Island of Yellow Sands. Was it the long-sought-for island, lying now in plain view?

Nangotook, who had followed the lads, did not think so. “Island we came from,” he said briefly, pointing to it.

“You mean the place where we were wind-bound so long?” Jean asked. “I cannot think it. That must be farther away. Think how long we traveled in the fog!”

“May have been going round and round part of the time. No way to tell after fog got thick. Over there,” and Nangotook pointed across the water to the west of the bit of land, “Nanabozho.”