To Win or to Die Part 33

It was but momentary, and then he mastered the coward feeling, uttering a gasp of relief, for there was a faint throbbing against the hand he thrust into the poor fellow's breast.

"Alive! I am in time," he muttered, and he continued his examination in the dark, expecting to feel blood or some trace of a wound.

But, as far as he could make out, there was nothing of the kind, though he felt that his cousin must have been attacked; so, after laying the sufferer in a more comfortable position, he felt for the matches on the rough shelf, struck one, saw that the lamp stood there unused, and the next minute he had a light and went down upon one knee to continue his examination.

At the first glance he saw that Bel's throat was discoloured, and there were ample signs of his having been engaged in some terrible struggle, but that was all. No, not all; the poor fellow was like ice, and quite insensible.

Dallas's brain was in a whirl, but he was able to act sensibly under the circ.u.mstances. He caught up rugs and blankets, and covered the sufferer warmly. Then, going to the open door, he dragged in the sledge, and closed and secured the entrance after a fas.h.i.+on.

His next effort was to get a good fire blazing to alter the temperature of the hut; and when this was done he went to the spirit-flask kept on the shelf for emergencies, and trickled a few drops between the poor fellow's lips.

As he worked at this he tried hard to puzzle out what had happened.

His first thoughts had been in the direction of attack and robbery. But there was the fastened door. It was not likely that Abel, after being half strangled and hurled down, could have fastened up the door again from the inside; he would sooner have left it open in the hope of one of their neighbours pa.s.sing by and rendering help. And yet there was the bed dragged away, the board removed, and the earth torn up.

He crossed to the place.

There was no doubt about it; the object of the attack must have been robbery, for the bag of gold was gone.

He held his hand to his brow and stared about wildly.

Ah! A fresh thought. The dog! Hungry! Mad! It must have attacked and seized Abel by the throat. That would account for its lacerated state and the terrible struggle.

There was evidence, too, just across the hut--a hole had been half dug, half torn through the side, just big enough for such a dog to get through, and it had, after nearly killing him who had saved the brute's life, torn a way out, partly beneath the side.

"Oh, Bel, lad, if you could only speak!" groaned Dallas, as he took up the lamp, felt how cold the poor fellow was, and, setting the lamp down again, stooped to pick up a skin rug tossed into the corner by the head of the bed.

But as he drew it towards him something dropped on the ground. Stooping down to see what it was, he discovered that it was a sharp, thick bowie-knife.

"It is robbery. He has been attacked," cried Dallas; and once more he devoted himself to trying to restore the sufferer--chafing his cold limbs, bathing his temples with spirits, drawing him nearer the fire, and at last waiting in despair for the result, while feeling perfectly unable to fit the pieces of the puzzle so as to get a solution satisfactory in all points.

"Poor old Bel!" he said to himself; "he seems always to get the worst of it; but when I told him so he only laughed, and said it was I."

He was in agony as to what he should do.

One moment he was for going to fetch help; the next he gave it up, dreading to leave his cousin again.

By degrees, though, the poor fellow began to come to as the warmth pervaded him; and at last, to Dallas's great delight, he opened his eyes, stared at him wildly, and then looked round wonderingly till his eyes lit upon the opening, over which his cousin had pegged a rug.

He started violently then, and the memory of all that had taken place came back.

Clapping his hand to his throat, he wrenched his head round so that he could look in the direction of the bed.

"The gold--the bag of gold!" he whispered.

"Gone, old fellow; but never mind that, so long as you are alive. Try and drink this."

"No, not now," said Abel feebly. "I want to lie still and think. Yes, I remember now; he broke in at the side there while I was asleep. He had a knife, but I seized him. Did you come back then?"

"No, I have not long been home. Shall I go and ask Norton to come?"

"No, don't leave me, Dal; I am so weak. But where is the dog?"

"He was not here when I broke in."

"You broke in?"

"Yes; I could not make you hear. I say, though, had I not better fetch help?"

"What for? There is no doctor; and he might come back."

Dallas had started, for as Abel spoke there was a loud thumping at the door. His hand went behind to his revolver, which he held ready, fully expecting from his cousin's manner that the marauder who had attacked him had returned; but to the delight of both, after a second blow on the door, the familiar voice of Tregelly was heard in a cheery hail.

"Hullo, there!" he cried. "Any one at home?"

Dallas darted to the door, threw it open, and there in the gloomy light of mid-day stood their friend with a load over his shoulder.

"Back again, then? I was coming to see. But I say, what's the meaning of this--is it a trap?"

"Is what a trap?" said Dallas.

"Putting this bag out yonder with the dog to watch it and snap at any one who touches it. Is the bag yours?"

"Yes, of course," exclaimed Dallas excitedly; "but where was it?"

"Outside, I tell you; but it's a failure if it's a trap, for the dog's dead."

Dallas rushed out, followed by his visitor, and there in the dim light lay the dog, stretched out upon the snow, perfectly stiff and motionless.

"I see how it was now," cried Dallas excitedly; and as their neighbour helped him carry the dog in, he told him in a few words of how he had found matters on his return.

"Poor brute! Was he in the place, then?"

"I suppose so, and he must have attacked the scoundrel, and made him drop the bag."

"And then lay down to watch it, dying at his post. If he had lived I'd have given something for that dog."

"Indeed you would not," said Dallas warmly. "No gold would have bought him."

The dog was laid down by the fire, but Tregelly shook his head.

"Might as well save his skin, youngsters; but you'll have to thaw him first."

"Is he dead?" asked Abel feebly.

"No doubt about that," replied Tregelly. "It's a pity, too, for he was a good dog. Those Eskimo, as a rule, are horrid brutes, eating up everything, even to their harness; but this one was something. I'd come up to bring Mr Wray here half one o' my hams, but you won't want it now."

"No," said Dallas; "and I can send you back loaded, and be out of debt."