The Purple Flame Part 20

The time was to come, and that very soon, when she was to rejoice because of this decision.

CHAPTER XXV THE MIRAGE

That night Marian lay awake for a long time. She had a vague feeling that they were approaching a crisis. Many agencies were at work. Some appeared to favor the success of their enterprise, and some were working directly against them. Scarberry, with his herd, was some hours ahead of them.

That was bad. If he succeeded in retaining this lead, the race was lost.

However, less than half the distance had been covered, the easiest half.

Many a peril awaited each herd. Who could tell when prowling wolves, large bands of Indians, a caribou herd, an impa.s.sable river, might bring either to a halt?

Marian could not answer all of the questions that troubled her. The Indians? Would they be satisfied with her gift of food, or would they continue to prey upon the herd? Would they go back to some large tribe and lead them to the herd that they might drive them away, an easy bounty?

She had dealt with Eskimos; knew about what to expect from them. "But Indians," she whispered to herself, "What are they like?"

As if in answer to her perplexity, there came to her mind the words of a great and good man:

"Humanity is everywhere very much the same."

This thought gave her comfort. She could not help but feel that the Indian she had befriended would not betray her, but might even come to her aid in some emergency.

"But those of the purple flame?" she whispered to herself. "That silent watcher on the hill-what did he mean by sitting there with a rifle across his knee? Is he and his companions our friends or our enemies?"

Here, indeed, was a problem. Until this day, she had felt that these persons were to be distrusted and feared. However, there had been something about that silent watcher that had given her a feeling of safety in spite of her prejudice.

"It was as if he were set there as a watch to see that the Indian did us no harm," she told herself. "And yet, how could he?"

It was in the midst of this perplexity that she fell asleep.

Long before dawn the girls awoke to face a new day and a new, unknown peril. The forest, stretching out black and somber against the white foreground of snow, seemed a great menacing hand, reaching out to seize their precious possession. They could not know what perils awaited them in the forest.

With breakfast over, the tents struck, sled-deer harnessed and hitched to the sled, and everything in readiness for the continuing of the race to Fort Jarvis, the girls climbed the nearest hill, hoping that they might catch some glimpse of the country beyond the forest.

Their hopes were vain. Far as eye could see, the forest stretched before them. They could only guess the miles they must travel before coming again to rolling hills and level tundra. They were traveling over a region of the great Northland which had never really been explored. No accurate maps showed where rivers ran or forests spread out over the plains.

Standing there, looking at the great forest, Patsy quoted:

"'This the forest primeval; The murmuring pines and the hemlocks Stand like Druids of old With beards that rest on their bosom.'

"And, with two Eskimos for companions, we are to enter that forest. Only wild people, and wilder caribou and wolves, have been there before us.

Oh, Marian! We are explorers! We really, truly are! Isn't it gran-n-d!"

Marian did not answer. There was a puzzled look on her face as she stared away toward the north. Out of the very clouds faint images appeared to be marching. Yes, yes, now they became clearer. Reindeer-a whole herd of them. What could it mean? Was this a vision? Was she "seeing things," or was it possible that much higher hills lay over there and that the reindeer were crossing them?

"Look," she said to her cousin, pointing away to the clouds.

Together, with bated breaths, they watched the panorama that moved before them. Now they saw the herders and their dogs, saw them run this way and that; saw the herd change its course, saw the herders again take up the steady march.

"Why," exclaimed Patsy, "Seems as if you could hear the crack-crack of reindeer hoofs and the bark of the dogs!"

"They must be miles away. It's the Scarberry herd," said Marian.

"Look," whispered Patsy, "the deer are stopping."

It was true. Having come to an abrupt halt, as if facing an insurmountable barrier, the leaders compelled those that followed to pack in a solid ma.s.s behind them or to spread out to right or left. In an incredibly short time they stood out in a straight line, facing east.

"It-it must be a river, a river that is still open, that cannot be crossed," said Marian in tones of tense excitement.

"And that means!" exclaimed Patsy.

"That our rival has been stopped. Nature has brought them to a halt. We may win yet. Let's hurry. We may find a crossing-place in the forest."

"But look, look over there to the left!" cried Patsy.

"What? Where?"

"Why, they're gone!" exclaimed Patsy. "There were three men. Indians, they looked like. They seemed to be watching the Scarberry herd from a hilltop some distance away."

"But look!" cried Marian. "It's gone!"

To their great astonishment, the herd had vanished. As it had appeared to march out of the clouds, so it seemed now to have receded again into them.

"Were we dreaming?" Patsy asked in an awed whisper.

"No," said Marian thoughtfully, "It was a mirage, a mirage of the great white wilderness. We have them here just as they do on the desert. By the aid of this mirage, nature has shown us a great secret; that we still have a splendid chance to win the race. Let's get down to camp and be away."

"But the three Indians?" questioned Patsy. "What were they about to do?"

"Who knows?" said Marian. "We have little to do with the Scarberry herd.

Our task is that of getting to Fort Jarvis."

Two hours were consumed in reaching the edge of the forest. After that, for hours they pa.s.sed through the wonder world of a northern forest in winter. Deep and still, the snow lay like a great white blanket. Black as ebonite against this whiteness stood the fir and spruce trees. There was something strangely solemn about the place. The crack of reindeer's hoofs, the bark of dogs, all seemed strangely out of place here. It was as though they stood on holy ground.

"It's like a church," Patsy said in an awed voice.

"G.o.d's great cathedral," answered Marian.

Fortunately the trees were not too close together. There was room for the deer to pa.s.s between them. So, as before, the herd moved forward in a fairly compact ma.s.s.

"Going to be easy," was Patsy's comment after three hours had pa.s.sed.

"I don't know," Marian shook her head in doubt, "I hope so, but you know an Alaskan who is used to barren hills and tundra, dreads a forest. I belong to the tundra, so I dread it, too."

In spite of her fears, just at nightfall Marian found herself pa.s.sing from beneath the last spruce tree and gazing away at rolling hills beyond.

She was just offering up a little prayer of thanksgiving, when some movement of the forward herd leaders attracted her attention.