"Hooraw! No choppin' for two mile!" he shouted.
"Hooraw! Bully2! Hi-yi!" yelled the axemen, Pierre, "Jawnny," and "Frawce," two hundred yards behind. Their cries were taken up by the two chain-bearers still farther back.
"Is it a lake, Baptiste?" cried Tom Dunscombe, the young surveyor, as he hurried forward through balsams that edged the woods and concealed4 the open space from those among the trees.
"No, seh; only a beaver5 meddy."
"Clean?"
"Clean! Yesseh! Clean's your face. Hain't no tree for two mile if de line is go right."
"Good! We shall make seven miles to-day," said Tom, as he came forward with immense strides, carrying a compass and Jacob's-staff. Behind him the axemen slashed6 along, striking white slivers7 from the pink and scaly8 columns of red pines that shot up a hundred and twenty feet without a branch. If any underbrush grew there, it was beneath the eight-feet-deep February snow, so that one could see far away down a multitude of vaulted9, converging10 aisles11.
Our young surveyor took no thought of the beauty and majesty12 of the forest he was leaving. His thoughts and those of his men were set solely13 on getting ahead; for all hands had been promised double pay for their whole winter, in case they succeeded in running a line round the disputed Moose Lake timber berth14 before the tenth of April.
Their success would secure the claim of their employer, Old Dan McEachran, whereas their failure would submit him perhaps to the loss of the limit, and certainly to a costly15 lawsuit16 with Old Rory Carmichael, another potentate17 of the Upper Ottawa.
At least six weeks more of fair snow-shoeing would be needed to "blaze" out the limit, even if the unknown country before them should turn out to be less broken by cedar18 swamps and high precipices19 than they feared. A few days' thaw20 with rain would make slush of the eight feet of snow, and compel the party either to keep in camp, or risk mal de raquette,—strain of legs by heavy snow-shoeing. So they were in great haste to make the best of fine weather. Tom thrust his Jacob's-staff into the snow, set the compass sights to the right bearing, looked through them, and stood by to let Big Baptiste get a course along the line ahead. Baptiste's duty was to walk straight for some selected object far away on the line. In woodland the axeman "blazed" trees on both sides of his snow-shoe track.
Baptiste was as expert at his job as any Indian, and indeed he looked as if he had a streak21 of Iroquois in his veins22. So did "Frawce," "Jawnny," and all their comrades of the party.
"The three pines will do," said Tom, as Baptiste crouched23.
"Good luck to-day for sure!" cried Baptiste, rising with his eyes fixed24 on three pines in the foreground of the distant timbered ridge25. He saw that the line did indeed run clear of trees for two miles along one side of the long, narrow beaver meadow or swale.
Baptiste drew a deep breath, and grinned agreeably at Tom Dunscombe.
"De boys will look like dey's all got de double pay in deys' pocket when dey's see dis open," said Baptiste, and started for the three pines as straight as a bee.
Tom waited to get from the chainmen the distance to the edge of the wood. They came on the heels of the axemen, and all capered26 on their snow-shoes to see so long a space free from cutting.
It was now two o'clock; they had marched with forty pound or "light" packs since daylight, lunching on cold pork and hard-tack as they worked; they had slept cold for weeks on brush under an open tent pitched over a hole in the snow; they must live this life of hardship and huge work for six weeks longer, but they hoped to get twice their usual eighty-cents-a-day pay, and so their hearts were light and jolly.
But Big Baptiste, now two hundred yards in advance, swinging along in full view of the party, stopped with a scared cry. They saw him look to the left and to the right, and over his shoulder behind, like a man who expects mortal attack from a near but unknown quarter.
"What's the matter?" shouted Tom.
Baptiste went forward a few steps, hesitated, stopped, turned, and fairly ran back toward the party. As he came he continually turned his head from side to side as if expecting to see some dreadful thing following.
The men behind Tom stopped. Their faces were blanched28. They looked, too, from side to side.
"Halt, Mr. Tom, halt! Oh, monjee, M'sieu, stop!" said Jawnny.
Tom looked round at his men, amazed at their faces of mysterious terror.
"What on earth has happened?" cried he.
Instead of answering, the men simply pointed29 to Big Baptiste, who was soon within twenty yards.
"What is the trouble, Baptiste?" asked Tom.
Baptiste's face was the hue30 of death. As he spoke31 he shuddered:—
"Monjee, Mr. Tom, we'll got for stop de job!"
"Stop the job! Are you crazy?"
"If you'll not b'lieve what I told, den32 you go'n' see for you'se'f."
"What is it?"
"De track, seh."
"What track? Wolves?"
"If it was only wolfs!"
"Confound you! can't you say what it is?"
"Eet's de—it ain't safe for told its name out loud, for dass de way it come—if it's call by its name!"
"Windego, eh?" said Tom, laughing.
"I'll know its track jus' as quick's I see it."
"Do you mean you have seen a Windego track?"
"Monjee, seh, don't say its name! Let us go back," said Jawnny. "Baptiste was at Madores' shanty33 with us when it took Hermidas Dubois."
"Yesseh. That's de way I'll come for know de track soon's I see it," said Baptiste. "Before den I mos' don' b'lieve dere was any of it. But ain't it take Hermidas Dubois only last New Year's?"
"That was all nonsense about Dubois. I'll bet it was a joke to scare you all."
"Who's kill a man for a joke?" said Baptiste.
"Did you see Hermidas Dubois killed? Did you see him dead? No! I heard all about it. All you know is that he went away on New Year's morning, when the rest of the men were too scared to leave the shanty, because some one said there was a Windego track outside."
"Hermidas never come back!"
"I'll bet he went away home. You'll find him at Saint Agathe in the spring. You can't be such fools as to believe in Windegos."
"Don't you say dat name some more!" yelled Big Baptiste, now fierce with fright. "Hain't I just seen de track? I'm go'n' back, me, if I don't get a copper35 of pay for de whole winter!"
"Wait a little now, Baptiste," said Tom, alarmed lest his party should desert him and the job. "I'll soon find out what's at the bottom of the track."
"Dere is blood at de bottom—I seen it!" said Baptiste.
"Well, you wait till I go and see it."
"No! I go back, me," said Baptiste, and started up the slope with the others at his heels.
"Halt! Stop there! Halt, you fools! Don't you understand that if there was any such monster it would as easily catch you in one place as another?"
The men went on. Tom took another tone.
"Boys, look here! I say, are you going to desert me like cowards?"
"Hain't goin' for desert you, Mr. Tom, no seh!" said Baptiste, halting. "Honly I'll hain' go for cross de track." They all faced round.
Tom was acquainted with a considerable number of Windego superstitions36.
"There's no danger unless it's a fresh track," he said. "Perhaps it's an old one."
"Fresh made dis mornin'," said Baptiste.
"Well, wait till I go and see it. You're all right, you know, if you don't cross it. Isn't that the idea?"
"No, seh. Mr. Humphreys told Madore 'bout34 dat. Eef somebody cross de track and don't never come back, den de magic ain't in de track no more. But it's watchin', watchin' all round to catch somebody what cross its track; and if nobody don't cross its track and get catched, den de—de Ting mebby get crazy mad, and nobody don' know what it's goin' for do. Kill every person, mebby."
Tom mused38 over this information. These men had all been in Madore's shanty; Madore was under Red Dick Humphreys; Red Dick was Rory Carmichael's head foreman; he had sworn to stop the survey by hook or by crook39, and this vow40 had been made after Tom had hired his gang from among those scared away from Madore's shanty. Tom thought he began to understand the situation.
"Just wait a bit, boys," he said, and started.
"You ain't surely go'n' for cross de track?" cried Baptiste.
"Not now, anyway," said Tom. "But wait till I see it."
When he reached the mysterious track it surprised him so greatly that he easily forgave Baptiste's fears.
If a giant having ill-shaped feet as long as Tom's snow-shoes had passed by in moccasins, the main features of the indentations might have been produced. But the marks were no deeper in the snow than if the huge moccasins had been worn by an ordinary man. They were about five and a half feet apart from centres, a stride that no human legs could take at a walking pace.
Moreover, there were on the snow none of the dragging marks of striding; the gigantic feet had apparently41 been lifted straight up clear of the snow, and put straight down.
Strangest of all, at the front of each print were five narrow holes which suggested that the mysterious creature had travelled with bare, claw-like toes. An irregular drip or squirt of blood went along the middle of the indentations! Nevertheless, the whole thing seemed of human devising.
This track, Tom reflected, was consistent with the Indian superstition37 that Windegos are monsters who take on or relinquish42 the human form, and vary their size at pleasure. He perceived that he must bring the maker43 of those tracks promptly44 to book, or suffer his men to desert the survey, and cost him his whole winter's work, besides making him a laughing-stock in the settlements.
The young fellow made his decision instantly. After feeling for his match-box and sheath-knife, he took his hatchet45 from his sash, and called to the men.
"Go into camp and wait for me!"
Then he set off alongside of the mysterious track at his best pace. It came out of a tangle46 of alders47 to the west, and went into such another tangle about a quarter of a mile to the east. Tom went east. The men watched him with horror.
"He's got crazy, looking at de track," said Big Baptiste, "for that's the way,—one is enchanted,—he must follow."
"He was a good boss," said Jawnny, sadly.
As the young fellow disappeared in the alders the men looked at one another with a certain shame. Not a sound except the sough of pines from the neighboring forest was heard. Though the sun was sinking in clear blue, the aspect of the wilderness48, gray and white and severe, touched the impressionable men with deeper melancholy49. They felt lonely, masterless, mean.
"He was a good boss," said Jawnny again.
"Tort Dieu!" cried Baptiste, leaping to his feet. "It's a shame for desert the young boss. I don't care; the Windego can only kill me. I'm going for help Mr. Tom."
"Me also," said Jawnny.
Then all wished to go. But after some parley50 it was agreed that the others should wait for the portageurs, who were likely to be two miles behind, and make camp for the night.
Soon Baptiste and Jawnny, each with his axe3, started diagonally across the swale, and entered the alders on Tom's track.
It took them twenty yards through the alders, to the edge of a warm spring or marsh51 about fifty yards wide. This open, shallow water was completely encircled by alders that came down to its very edge. Tom's snow-shoe track joined the track of the mysterious monster for the first time on the edge—and there both vanished!
BAPTISTE AND JAWNNY LOOKED AT THE PLACE IN THE WILDEST TERROR
BAPTISTE AND JAWNNY LOOKED AT THE PLACE IN THE WILDEST TERROR
Baptiste and Jawnny looked at the place with the wildest terror, and without even thinking to search the deeply indented52 opposite edges of the little pool for a reappearance of the tracks, fled back to the party. It was just as Red Dick Humphreys had said; just as they had always heard. Tom, like Hermidas Dubois, appeared to have vanished from existence the moment he stepped on the Windego track!
The dimness of early evening was in the red-pine forest through which Tom's party had passed early in the afternoon, and the belated portageurs were tramping along the line. A man with a red head had been long crouching53 in some cedar bushes to the east of the "blazed" cutting. When he had watched the portageurs pass out of sight, he stepped over upon their track, and followed it a short distance.
A few minutes later a young fellow, over six feet high, who strongly resembled Tom Dunscombe, followed the red-headed man.
The stranger, suddenly catching54 sight of a flame far away ahead on the edge of the beaver meadow, stopped and fairly hugged himself.
"Camped, by jiminy! I knowed I'd fetch 'em," was the only remark he made.
"I wish Big Baptiste could see that Windego laugh," thought Tom Dunscombe, concealed behind a tree.
After reflecting a few moments, the red-headed man, a wiry little fellow, went forward till he came to where an old pine had recently fallen across the track. There he kicked off his snow-shoes, picked them up, ran along the trunk, jumped into the snow from among the branches, put on his snow-shoes, and started northwestward. His new track could not be seen from the survey line.
But Tom had beheld55 and understood the purpose of the manoeuvre56. He made straight for the head of the fallen tree, got on the stranger's tracks and cautiously followed them, keeping far enough behind to be out of hearing or sight.
The red-headed stranger went toward the wood out of which the mysterious track of the morning had come. When he had reached the little brush-camp in which he had slept the previous night, he made a small fire, put a small tin pot on it, boiled some tea, broiled57 a venison steak, ate his supper, had several good laughs, took a long smoke, rolled himself round and round in his blanket, and went to sleep.
Hours passed before Tom ventured to crawl forward and peer into the brush camp. The red-headed man was lying on his face, as is the custom of many woodsmen. His capuchin cap covered his red head.
Tom Dunscombe took off his own long sash. When the red-headed man woke up he found that some one was on his back, holding his head firmly down.
Unable to extricate58 his arms or legs from his blankets, the red-headed man began to utter fearful threats. Tom said not one word, but diligently59 wound his sash round his prisoner's head, shoulders, and arms.
He then rose, took the red-headed man's own "tump-line," a leather strap60 about twelve feet long, which tapered61 from the middle to both ends, tied this firmly round the angry live mummy, and left him lying on his face.
Then, collecting his prisoner's axe, snowshoes, provisions, and tin pail, Tom started with them back along the Windego track for camp.
Big Baptiste and his comrades had supped too full of fears to go to sleep. They had built an enormous fire, because Windegos are reported, in Indian circles, to share with wild beasts the dread27 of flames and brands. Tom stole quietly to within fifty yards of the camp, and suddenly shouted in unearthly fashion. The men sprang up, quaking.
"It's the Windego!" screamed Jawnny.
"You silly fools!" said Tom, coming forward. "Don't you know my voice? Am I a Windego?"
"It's the Windego, for sure; it's took the shape of Mr. Tom, after eatin' him," cried Big Baptiste.
Tom laughed so uproariously at this that the other men scouted62 the idea, though it was quite in keeping with their information concerning Windegos' habits.
Then Tom came in and gave a full and particular account of the Windego's pursuit, capture, and present predicament.
"But how'd he make de track?" they asked.
"He had two big old snow-shoes, stuffed with spruce tips underneath63, and covered with dressed deerskin. He had cut off the back ends of them. You shall see them to-morrow. I found them down yonder where he had left them after crossing the warm spring. He had five bits of sharp round wood going down in front of them. He must have stood on them one after the other, and lifted the back one every time with the pole he carried. I've got that, too. The blood was from a deer he had run down and killed in the snow. He carried the blood in his tin pail, and sprinkled it behind him. He must have run out our line long ago with a compass, so he knew where it would go. But come, let us go and see if it's Red Dick Humphreys."
Red Dick proved to be the prisoner. He had become quite philosophic64 while waiting for his captor to come back. When unbound he grinned pleasantly, and remarked:
"You're Mr. Dunscombe, eh? Well, you're a smart young feller, Mr. Dunscombe. There ain't another man on the Ottaway that could 'a' done that trick on me. Old Dan McEachran will make your fortun' for this, and I don't begrudge65 it. You're a man—that's so. If ever I hear any feller saying to the contrayry he's got to lick Red Dick Humphreys."
And he told them the particulars of his practical joke in making a Windego track round Madore's shanty.
"Hermidas Dubois?—oh, he's all right," said Red Dick. "He's at home at St. Agathe. Man, he helped me to fix up that Windego track at Madore's; but, by criminy! the look of it scared him so he wouldn't cross it himself. It was a holy terror!"
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1
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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4
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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slivers
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| （切割或断裂下来的）薄长条，碎片( sliver的名词复数 ) | |
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scaly
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| adj.鱼鳞状的；干燥粗糙的 | |
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vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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11
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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12
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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15
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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lawsuit
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| n.诉讼，控诉 | |
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potentate
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| n.统治者；君主 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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precipices
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| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
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thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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capered
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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superstitions
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| 迷信，迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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42
relinquish
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| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
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43
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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45
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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46
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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alders
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| n.桤木( alder的名词复数 ) | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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50
parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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51
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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52
indented
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| adj.锯齿状的，高低不平的；缩进排版 | |
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53
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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54
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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55
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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56
manoeuvre
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| n.策略，调动；v.用策略，调动 | |
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57
broiled
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| a.烤过的 | |
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58
extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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59
diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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60
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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61
tapered
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| adj. 锥形的，尖削的，楔形的，渐缩的，斜的 动词taper的过去式和过去分词 | |
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62
scouted
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| 寻找，侦察( scout的过去式和过去分词 )； 物色（优秀运动员、演员、音乐家等） | |
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63
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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65
begrudge
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| vt.吝啬，羡慕 | |
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