Chapter 18

ALONE

The frost held for two days, and the men made small progress through the dusty snow. On the third it grew softer as they floundered wearily down into a valley, and Seaforth was aching in every limb when at last they halted at the edge of a river. Not far below them it plunged frothing into a gloomy canon, and the roar of its turmoil came out of the thin white vapour which curled through the stupendous portals of stream-worn stone. Seaforth felt moist and generally uncomfortable, as well as weary, for it was humid and a trifle warmer now, while his long boots were soaked, and at every step he dragged after him a clogging weight of snow. He leaned against a cedar, glad to rest a while, and glanced inquiringly at his comrade.

Alton, however, showed no sign of fatigue. He stood with the half-melted snow he had fallen in clinging about his deerskin jacket and trickling slowly down his tattered leggings, the bridle of the worn-out horse in his hand and a slight perplexity in his eyes.

"Now, I wonder if that will make a road to the south," he said reflectively, pointing to the canon.

"I don't know," said Seaforth dryly. "So far as my opinion goes, I scarcely think it will; but isn't that a little outside the question? Just now a road to the north would be more to the purpose."

"Well," said Alton, "a few sticks of giant powder here and there would make a difference, and one could do a good deal with a few score of men used to the pick and drill."

"It would also," said Seaforth, "take a good many dollars to pay them."

Alton laughed as he turned, and pointed upstream, Darkness was not far away, and the river came down deep and slow out of the dimness. Dark pines rolled up the hillsides that shut it in, and wisps of grey vapour drifted about them.

"There are," he said, "dollars enough to build a road right down to Vancouver in those hills, and by and by one of two men will have his hands on them."

"Isn't that a somewhat curious way of putting it?" said his companion.

"Well," said Alton, "there is as usual a reason. Whichever of those men comes out on top will not have much use for the other fellow. In the meanwhile we'll be getting on. There's a canoe under the big boulders yonder, and the island should make the horse a corral."

Seaforth said nothing, though he thought a good deal. He guessed that one of the men alluded to was his comrade and the other Hallam, and there was a grim suggestiveness in the former's simple explanation, for it seemed that Alton understood quarter would not be given in the struggle he had embarked upon. There was also something disconcerting in the fact that they found the canoe where he indicated. That it had lain there since Jimmy the prospector, who lay sleeping on the heights above them, had last used it emphasized the desolation of the region they were pushing their way into, and Seaforth once more felt a curious depression as he glanced up the lonely valley. It stretched away before them, a road to the unknown, and he fancied that a future which was fraught with great and perilous possibilities lay hidden beyond the drifting mist.

They had, it seemed, set out upon a journey which led farther than the silver Jimmy had found, but knowing that his comrade would go on to the end of it, Seaforth shook off his misgivings, and assisted him to load and launch the craft. They made fast the pack-horse by a halter, and in ten minutes had landed the beast upon an island. Then, somewhat to Seaforth's regret, they took up the paddles and went on again. Alton smiled curiously as he glanced towards the firs that slid by them half-seen through the mist.

"We're taking Jimmy's road. He was the last man to come down here, and I wonder what he was thinking about," he said. "There would have been an ice fringe along the bank, and Jimmy was hungry. I think he knew he wouldn't get through, and it was only because of the woman he held on so tight."

Seaforth shivered a little, as his fancy called up the scene. The starving man crouching half-frozen with the paddle clenched in stiffened fingers had watched those trees slide by him, knowing that on their speed depended his fast-failing chance of life. He had, Seaforth fancied, stared at the crawling boulders with despair in his dimming eyes, and the weary man turned towards his comrade almost savagely.

"Can't you think of anything a little more pleasant?" he said.

Alton smiled gravely. "It comes to all of us one day, and the trail of the treasure-seeker leads most often to the unknown hunting grounds," he said. "We have got to keep faith with Jimmy. He did his best, and I think he knew I would come up here after him."

Seaforth said nothing further, but bent over his paddle, until an hour later they landed on a point and set up the tent. Neither was communicative over the supper, and Seaforth went early to sleep. The last thing he saw was Alton sitting, a black motionless figure, apparently staring into the darkness from the door of the tent, with his face towards the north.

It was raining when he awakened next morning. The tent was saturated, the fire ill to light, and that day was spent in unremitting toil. The stream ran strong against them, and Seaforth's wet hands grew blistered from the grasp of the paddle and his knees raw from the rasp of the craft's bottom as he swung with the weary blade. Hour by hour the rain beat on them, and the pines that crawled out of it went very slowly by, while it was almost a relief to stand upright now and then, and with strenuous effort drive the frail shell up against the swirl of the slower rapids with long fir poles. At times they were swept down sideways before the poles could find hold again, and fought, gasping and panting, for minutes to regain what they had lost in as many seconds.

Now and then it was also needful to drag the canoe out, flounder amidst boulders or through tangled forest with her contents, and then, hewing a path here and there with the axe, painfully drag her round; but portage after portage was left behind, and they were still fighting their way yard by yard upstream while the rain came down. Seaforth also knew that it often rains for several weeks in that country when the Chinook wind that melts the snow sets in.

Darkness was closing down when at last they drew the canoe out upon a shelving bank and dragged themselves ashore. Seaforth was too chilled and wet to sleep, and his eyes had scarcely closed when Alton shook him, and he rose up, shivering, and stiff in every joint, to commence the task again. It was fortunately easier that day, for the river spread out into a narrow winding lake, and there was less current against them. Still the rain did not abate, and the afternoon was not quite spent when Alton pointed to a little cove.

"We haven't made much to-day, but unless you're anxious to go on that would make a good camping-place," he said deprecatingly. "Now there was a time when I wouldn't have thought of stopping yet, but I guess too much good living has taken a little of the stiffening out of me."

Seaforth slowly unclenched one hand from the red-smeared paddle-haft, and glanced at it. "If you feel diffident, don't worry about me," he said. "Eight hours' hard labour while you're wet through is, in my opinion, quite enough for anybody."

Alton ran the canoe in, and Seaforth staggered a little when he walked ashore. The water was draining from him, and it was several minutes before he could straighten himself. There were pools amidst the boulders, and when they had splashed through these to the edge of the forest, fallen needles and withered fern were spongy, while the dark branches shook down water on them as they swung to the chilly blast. Seaforth groaned now and then as he struggled with the tent, while Alton tramped into the forest with the axe, but he came back presently with an armful of resinous chips, and his comrade's spirits rose a trifle when a crackling fire flung its red flicker through the creeping shadows. It hissed as the gusts lashed it with the rain, but the blackened and dinted kettle boiled, and while they ate and drank the smoke-flavoured tea, a little warmth crept with the pungent vapour into the tent.

The bush was dim and shadowy before the meal was finished, but Alton flung fresh branches on the fire, and the blaze that whirled aloft rent a track of radiance through the rain, and called up the vague outlines of the columnar trunks. Then he stretched himself out upon an armful of dripping twigs, and his garments steamed about him as he lighted an old blackened pipe. Seaforth lay amidst the packages, feeling blissfully drowsy as the warmth crept slowly into his aching limbs. Overhead the pine branches, wailed in wild harmonies, and the showers they shook down beat upon the tent.

"It seems to me this journey might have begun better," said Alton presently.

Seaforth nodded full concurrence. "It would be a little difficult to imagine it commencing very much worse. Wouldn't it have been wiser if you had waited a little longer, Harry?"

Alton seemed to notice something unusual in his companion's inflection. "You will have to talk straighter, Charley," he said.

Seaforth, who saw the glint in his eyes, laughed. "I merely meant that spring is coming, and it would be a trifle warmer then. I'm inclined to be a little cantankerous to-night, but, of course, it is not my business how long you stayed at the ranch."

"No," said Alton dryly, "I don't think it is. Spring would have been nicer, but, you see, Hallam was crowding me. Did anything else strike you, Charley?"

"Nothing of much importance," said Seaforth, smiling. "Only that while we lie shivering here Hallam is probably dining in state in the big hotel at Vancouver. Jingling glasses, good wine, light and warmth, flowers and silver on the table. The contrast's a little exasperating."

Alton glanced at the saturated canvas and his steaming clothes, while Seaforth, for no apparent reason, stretched out one foot and kicked over the dinted kettle.

"There are folks who would think that's only fit," he said. "Mr. Hallam is one of the men who are building up the future greatness of this wonderful country. At least, that's what they called him at the last big speech-making, but I don't quite see what good it would do us if you kicked the bottom of that kettle in, Charley. Now it's curious how a thing that's once started goes on. Jimmy took a notion that there was silver here, and that drew me in as well as Mrs. Jimmy. Then you came along, and presently it got hold of Hallam. The Somasco Consolidated has got drawn in, too--now there are you and I, with only the Almighty knows how much upon our shoulders, up here in the rain and snow."

Seaforth glanced at his comrade reflectively as he said, "I was wondering if there was anybody else."

Alton's face grew suddenly impassive. "Oh, yes," he said. "There's another man I don't know, the one who lighted the fire. He's back there somewhere."

Seaforth said nothing for a minute or two, but as he glanced about him the shadows seemed to grow darker beyond the flickering radiance of the fire, and the roar of wind in the branches angrier. He had been a prey to half-formed suspicions of late, and there was something sinister in the thought of that man who followed them.

"Harry," he said presently, "you have got most of the things you wanted so far?"

"Yes," said Alton quietly. "It wasn't always easy, and they didn't come to me, but I knew what I wanted, and I usually got it."

Seaforth made a sign of comprehension. "Did it ever occur to you that you had probably as much already as is good for you?"

Alton glanced at him with half-closed eyes. "A little plainer, Charley."

"You have Somasco, the liking of all the ranchers down the valley, the timber rights and mill. You have also Carnaby, and most folks would think you a fortunate man. Now the man who wants too much is occasionally sorry when he gets it."

Alton's eyes glinted. "I have a partner, too, who doesn't know where to stop," he said.

Seaforth met his comrade's gaze steadily. "This," he said reflectively, "is a good country. In fact I don't know a better one for the man who wants to live as he was meant to in the wind and sun, watching what he has worked for slowly grow. Is it a little thing, Harry, to see the oats and timothy where the forest had been, to clear a new way for the river with giant powder, and hear the big wheels humming where there was only a frothing rapid? Orchards, barns, and homestead built by your own labour, horses and herds of cattle all your own, and by and by the railroad coming through to bring you the long dreamed of prosperity. It's alluring, Harry?"

The glint was a trifle plainer in Alton's eyes, and his lean fingers were closed together. "I don't quite see where that trail leads to," he said quietly.

Seaforth laughed a little. "It is good to rise when the sun is creeping above the firs and plunge down into an ice-cold pool. Better still to lie on the verandah, tired in body, tranquil in mind, when the snows are fading and your work is done, knowing that every redwood hewn and new plough-furrow driven has been so much added to the prosperity of this province and the Dominion. It isn't a bad life--this one you were meant for, Harry."

"No," said Alton slowly. "There are times when I'm a very thankful man."

"Well, there is another one, and I have seen very tired men playing at being amused by the trifles that sickened them. They had, however, kept up the game so long that the manhood they were once proud of was only a memory. There are a good many of them in the old country, and some of them have sacrificed all they had for the one thing that wasn't good for them. It was too late when they found it out, Harry."

Alton's face was grim. "It would," he said, "be a pity if you and I fell out, Charley."

Seaforth laughed in a curious fashion. "It would, but I scarcely think we shall. You and I are partners, and a little more, and I will keep silent now I have spoken."

Alton said nothing, but sat smoking and staring at the fire, until Seaforth rolled himself in his damp blankets and sank into not altogether refreshing sleep. A misty light was creeping into the tent when he was awakened by the thudding of his companion's axe, and rising stiffly with the ache at the hip-joint which every bushman knows, went out shivering.

"Coffee!" said Alton. "I left it in the deerhide bag in the canoe."

Seaforth's limbs were too stiff to be much use to him yet, and he blundered amidst the boulders, falling over one or two, before he reached the shingle where they had partly drawn out the canoe. Then he stood still, staring about him, and saw only the green-tinted water sliding by under the uncertain light, and the pines on the other side growing a trifle plainer through the mist. Turning, he hastened along the shingle until a shelf of rock shut it in, and then back to the tent again. Alton laid down the axe, for there was something in his comrade's face that troubled him.

"Have you got it?" he asked.

"No," said Seaforth very quietly. "You told me the bag was in the canoe."

"Of course," said Alton. "Well, wasn't it there?"

"I don't know," said Seaforth. "I couldn't find the canoe."

Alton said nothing further, but stumbled in haste towards the river. Seaforth followed him more slowly, and Alton stood very still when he found nothing but boulders and shingle. Then he stooped and bent over a little depression in the pebbles, and when he rose again his face was impassive.

"The water has risen since last night, but I'm not sure that accounts for it," he said. "The bank slopes a little, but we pulled most of her out."

"I think we pulled the whole of her clear," said Seaforth quietly.

Alton stood silent for almost a minute with his right hand clenched. Then he said slowly, "You'll have to go down and look for her while I push on, Charley."

Seaforth was about to speak, but he saw his comrade's eyes and did not express himself as he had meant to. "Yes," he said. "I don't know that I shall find her."

The two men looked at each other, until Alton moved his head. "Still, one of us must try," he said. "Take all you can carry, and a rifle. I'll load up as much as I'm fit for, and we'll cache the rest. You'll come on after me, or join Tom, as you think best."

Seaforth smiled a little. "I'll come on, and even if I sacrifice something else I'll take the rifle."

Alton said nothing, and for an hour they were busy about the camp. Then as they stood a moment, loaded like beasts of burden, under the dripping pines, Seaforth held out his hand.

"Harry, are you wise?" he said.

"I don't know," said Alton simply; "but I'm going on."

It was noticeable that they shook hands, which they were not in the habit of doing, and that there was a very faint but perceptible tremor in Seaforth's voice.

"Good-bye," he said.

"Well," said Alton with a smile, which seemed to lack heartiness. "I wouldn't put it that way."

He swung forward with his face towards the north, but the smile faded and his fingers closed on the rifle when he heard Seaforth struggling southwards through the bush.

"Two of them gone now," he said. "I wonder if that is what the other fellow wanted."