CHAPTER XVI A CONFLAGRATION

When the Bradfords returned to Lake Dasar-dee-ash, they found Lucky, Long Peter, and Coffee Jack awaiting them with all the supplies. The course lay across the lake to its outlet, a stream bearing the Indian name of "Kaska Wulsh," but generally known as the north branch of the Alsek, since, after flowing north for fifty miles, it turned to the west and south like the other branch, which it joined many miles below Dalton's Post.

After a consultation it was decided to cache a part of Mr. Bradford's supplies, and all of Uncle Will's except certain tools, on the western shore, within six miles of Kah Sha gorge, for they would eventually return to look after the Alder Creek claims, and it was, besides, advisable to lighten the loads and hasten forward before the snow and ice were gone. Uncle Will accordingly took Lucky and Long Peter and set out across the bay of the lake with three sled-loads, leaving his brother and the boys to rest after their labors. Late in the evening he returned and reported that he had built a strong platform of saplings high up between[136] three trees and enclosed on all sides. There he had left the goods covered with oiled canvas, and felt confident that they would be safe alike from dogs, wild beasts, and stormy weather.

It was now thought best to dismiss Long Peter, since the remaining thirty-five miles consisted of level lake and river, and furthermore it was necessary to husband the provisions. The Indian seemed sorry to part with his white friends, but took the matter good-naturedly, the more so, perhaps, since he was confident of finding employment with the Mysterious Thirty-six, who could not be far behind. He left on the following morning, happy with a present of a fine hunting-knife in addition to his wages. Uncle Will wished to buy his sled, in order that Lucky might use it, but Long Peter was unwilling to part with it, and Lucky was obliged as before to take turns with the sleds of the others and act as general assistant.

The surface of the lake proved more unfavorable for sledding than was anticipated. Exposed as they were to the uninterrupted glare of the sun, the snowy ridges were soft and slushy except at night. To make matters worse, a north wind blew strongly in their faces. Toward noon they descried several black specks on the ice to the rearward, which gained steadily upon them, and were at length seen to be three men, a sled, and a team of dogs. The men proved to be the leader[137] of the Thirty-six, a miner named Cannon, and a very tall native known as Indian Jack, the owner and driver of the dogs.

The "Cap'n," as the leader was called, gave no hint as to his destination, but Uncle Will surmised that he was going forward to look over the ground upon which he proposed to locate his men. He was willing to say, however, that the rest of his party would turn aside to Kah Sha River, as the Bradfords had done, and that they ought to reach there in about three days. Several of his men were sick or exhausted, one was suffering from a sprained ankle, two were snow-blind, another had been cut with an axe, and still another had blood-poisoning in a finger. He thought they might lose a day or two from these causes. Without waiting to talk further, he gave the word to the Indian, who in turn cried out "Chuck!" to the dogs, and away they went as fast as they could walk, much faster indeed than the Bradfords could follow. The Indian guided the sled by the gee-pole, but the dogs did all the pulling, and tugged vigorously as if they quite enjoyed it,—David meantime catching a picture of the whole outfit as it went by, with the Dasar-dee-ash Mountains for a background.

Not more than four miles had been covered when camp was pitched on the eastern shore that afternoon. As the night promised to be comparatively warm and[138] fine, Roly proposed to his father that they should make a big canvas hut with two tents as some of the Thirty-six had done at Rainy Hollow. Neither Mr. Bradford nor Uncle Will objected to humoring the boy, and the hut was set up forthwith on a framework of poles, with the open end to the south away from the wind. The blanket beds of the four occupants were then laid in place side by side upon spruce boughs strewn on the snow.

When supper had been disposed of, a roaring fire was built before the open side of the hut, filling the place with a cheerful warmth and glow, and the four reclined comfortably on the blankets, telling stories and watching the curling smoke and crackling flames, until Mr. Bradford declared that if they did not turn in, they would surely sleep overtime in the morning, for there was neither cock nor clock to arouse them here. Something else there was, however, which proved quite as effectual, and roused them long before daybreak.

Roly was dreaming that he was at home and sitting by the kitchen stove. Suddenly, he thought, the lids flew off, and the flames rose in a bright column to the ceiling, while sparks fell all over him and about the room. He tried to rise and alarm the household, but some strange power held him fast, and he could neither stir nor cry out. The next instant he felt a thump in the ribs and awoke with a sense of choking,[139] to hear his uncle exclaiming excitedly, "Wake up! wake up! everybody! We're all afire here! Quick, quick, Charley! Take your hat or coat or anything, and beat down the flames. David, Roly, get out of this in a hurry!"

The boys grasped the situation in an instant. The wind had turned to the south while they slept, and a flying spark had set fire to the canvas over their heads. The dry cloth was now flaming up brightly, while burning pieces were falling on the blankets. They jumped up, seized their caps, and fell to work with a will to help their father and uncle, who were beating away desperately at the blazing side and roof.

It was quick, breathless work. Not only must they prevent the spread of the flames overhead, but they must also take care of the bedding and whatever clothing was in the hut. David, after extinguishing the fire immediately around him, dropped his cap and pulled both blankets and clothing in a heap out into the snow, where he spread them all out, carefully quenched the sparks, and then ran back to the hut, where the flames were presently brought under control. This was not accomplished, however, until nearly half the roof and all of one side were gone.

The fire-fighters, panting and exhausted, gazed ruefully at the ruins. It was too dark now to ascertain the exact amount of the damage, but there could be no[140] doubt it was very serious. No one, however, was disposed to cry over spilled milk; and Uncle Will, who had known many disasters of various sorts in the course of his rough experience, even laughed grimly and declared that what he regretted most was the singeing of his beard, of which he had lost fully two inches. Both men complimented the boys on their efficient work, which contributed to a large degree toward the saving of the contents of the hut, as well as that part of the hut itself which remained.

"I believe Lucky and Coffee Jack slept through it all," said Mr. Bradford, peering through the darkness toward the beach, where the Indians had pitched their rude tent.

As he spoke, there was a crackling and a flash of light behind the hut.

Not three feet from the rear of the structure rose a tall dead spruce. Fire from the burning canvas had been communicated to a dry vine leading into a net-work of small branches at the foot of this tree, and a tiny flame, silent and unseen, had been stealthily creeping toward this mass of tinder.

"Down with the hut, boys!" cried Uncle Will, instantly realizing the new danger. "Quick, before it gets too hot! Never mind the tree,—you can't put that fire out!"

This last was addressed to Roly, who had promptly[141] attacked the burning branches with his cap, but only succeeded in tearing that article on the twigs without much effect on the flames.

Knots were untied with nervous haste, and where they proved refractory they were cut. That part of the canvas nearest the tree was first folded over out of harm's way, and soon the whole was loosened and dragged to a distance, and none too soon. The fire ran up the dry twigs with startling rapidity and a roar that presently aroused those sound sleepers, Lucky and Coffee Jack, who came running up in surprise.

The tree quickly became a gigantic torch which lighted up the country for miles, and sent a dense column of white smoke rolling skyward. By good luck there were no other trees close enough to be in danger, and the whole party withdrew to a comfortable distance, as soon as the hut was safe, to watch the brilliant spectacle. The best part of it was soon over, for the branches were presently burned away, but portions of the trunk flamed and smoked for hours. Nobody but the Indians thought of sleeping any more that night. The boys curled up in their blankets where they could watch the tree; while Mr. Bradford and Uncle Will, wrapped in their heavy coats, sat on a log near by,—the former telling stories of Adirondack fires, the latter, who never seemed to have smoke enough, puffing away at his pipe.