CHAPTER XI PHANTOMS OF THE STORM

Long before the camp was astir on the following morning, Dick rose shivering, dressed, and made his way to Dr. Brady’s tent. Lamont’s departure had completely upset him. He could think of nothing else. Through the long night he had lain awake thinking unpleasant thoughts, upbraiding himself for his lack of diplomacy and negligence. To a certain extent he and he alone was responsible for the calamity. He had asked Lamont to leave the party and the guide had gone. Now he bitterly regretted the incident. He had been a fool—rash, hasty, unthinking. He had jeopardized the lives, not only of his own party, but, worse still, the lives of scores of others residing in the districts affected by the plague.

Hurrying along through the chill of early dawn, it occurred to him that there might still be some way out of the difficulty. Dr. Brady, who had not yet been informed of the guide’s departure, might be able to suggest something. He entered the physician’s tent and proceeded to wake its occupant. Brady sat up, for a moment stared dully about him.
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“Well! Well! So it’s you, after all. When I first opened my eyes here in the darkness and felt you tugging at my arm, I was sure that my time had come. ‘Indians,’ I thought. ‘Brady, you’re about to be scalped.’ Then I remembered that I am bald-headed. They couldn’t scalp me but——”

“I’m in trouble, doctor,” said Dick, Brady’s jocularity failing to draw even a smile from him. “Lamont left us last night.”

The other whistled—a habit he had when surprised or excited.

“What! You don’t say!” the doctor brushed one hand hurriedly across his suddenly furrowed brow, staring straight at his informer. Then:

“So you had trouble with him after all? Was there a fight?”

“No; nothing like that. I hadn’t even talked to him except that once. He left just when we made camp last night. Sent me a sort of message on a piece of birch bark. I would have given you the news before you turned in last night if Toma and I hadn’t gone back on the trail to see if we couldn’t find the place where he’d struck off across country.”

“Strange, isn’t it?” as he spoke, Brady arose, pulling a blanket around him. “Too bad! Too bad! No wonder you’re worried, my boy. Did you sleep any last night?”
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“Not much,” admitted Dick. “You can imagine how I feel. It’s all my fault. I really told him to go. It places us in a terrible position, doctor. I’m not sure whether we can find our way to Keechewan Mission or not.”

“We can try,” said Brady. “That, at least, is a comforting thought.”

Dick removed his mittens in order to light a candle. It was very cold inside the tent. Their breath was like vapor.

“I have a plan,” Dick informed the physician. “At first, when I heard that Lamont had left us, it didn’t occur to me. It may be a worthless plan. I’d like your opinion on it. One reason why I came over here so early.”

“What is this plan?” asked Brady.

“To send Toma out to overtake and bring the guide back.”

“What! By force?”

Apparently Brady hadn’t thought of that. He frowned as he began pulling on his clothes.

“Yes, if necessary, bring him back at the point of a gun. Force him to guide us whether he wants to or not.”
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“I’m a little in doubt as to the wisdom of that. Toma may be able to overtake Lamont and compel him to return. But what guarantee will you have that he’ll guide us correctly? Don’t you think that there is the danger that in revenge he’ll take us way out of our course entirely, lead us afield? That would be disastrous.”

“He wouldn’t dare. His life would be forfeit. I’ll attend to that,” said the young man grimly.

“Well, at any rate, it’s worth trying. But why don’t you go after him yourself, Dick? Do you think this young Indian will be as apt to find him as you will?”

“Yes, more apt to. You don’t know Toma. He’s a jewel. Clever tracker and all that. Courage like a panther. He’d succeed where I’d fail.”

“I call that a compliment.”

“It is a compliment. He’s wonderful.”

Brady completed dressing.

“Is there anything that I can do to help?”

“Yes, if you will. You might waken the dog mushers and see that breakfast is started while I go over and consult with Toma.”

“I suppose we’ll have to remain in camp here until your friend returns. The delay will be provoking but of course it can’t be helped.”

“I had planned to have the party go on the same as usual,” said Dick. “You see, doctor, time is precious. We can’t afford to lose a minute. Toma will have to take his chance. He knows the general direction in which we are travelling and can easily pick up our tracks.”
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Dr. Brady and Dick separated just outside the tent. The wind sent a swirl of snow about their ankles. Already a few of the malemutes could be seen emerging from their snowy dens or standing, gaunt and motionless with raised muzzles, sniffing the frosty air.

Toma was not only awake but had already left his sleeping quarters and, when Dick found him, was squatting Indian fashion in front of a roaring spruce fire, drinking a hot cup of tea. At sight of his chum, he put down the cup, his face lighting with a smile.

“You up so quick,” he greeted him. “I thought mebbe I only one.”

With a sidewise movement of his head, Toma indicated to Dick that he should sit down beside him.

“You drink ’em tea. Make you feel good.”

“No, not now, Toma. I’ll have breakfast later. I’ve come to see you about—about Lamont.”

The quiet eyes surveyed Dick curiously.

“I thought that right away when I first see you. You no like it about Lamont run away?”

“You’ve struck it. I don’t. But it was partly my fault that he left, Toma. I’ve been wondering what we’ll do without a guide.”

“We get along all right mebbe.”
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“I hate to risk it,” said Dick. “I wish Lamont was here. He’s lazy and worthless in lots of ways but he knows the trail. Will you go out and bring him back, Toma?”

The Indian lad blinked, stared at his chum unbelievingly. Surely he didn’t mean that. Go after Lamont? Why the man wasn’t worth his salt. He broke the silence with a sudden jarring laugh.

“No. I’m in earnest,” Dick hastened to reassure the other. “I really want you to go, Toma. Find him and make him come back. You can take your gun. You must be very careful. While you’re out there after him, we’ll go on. You can follow and overtake us later.”

The Indian rose deliberately to his feet. His eyes were sparkling now in his eagerness. No need to tell Dick that he would meet his wishes, would be glad of the chance for this adventure.

“And you won’t be afraid?” Dick asked.

Toma grunted disdainfully, lifting his shoulders in a gesture that implied scorn at the mere suggestion.

“I start right away,” he informed his friend. “Mebbe you be surprised how soon I bring him back. Him lazy fellow. Not go very far before he stop an’ rest.”
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“That’s the spirit. I know you’ll succeed, Toma.” Dick rose and placed one arm affectionately about the broad shoulders, a great weight lifted from his mind.

“I be gone in a few minutes. You say good-bye Sandy.”

“All right. Lots of luck, odd chap. Don’t get into any trouble. If I were you, I wouldn’t take any chances with Lamont either. If I’m not mistaken, he’s more treacherous than a wolf. You’ll have to watch him.”

“I be careful—don’t you worry. Good-bye.”

And not long afterward the young Indian stole silently forth on his dangerous errand. Expert in the use of snowshoes, he seemed to glide away, his queer shuffling motion taking him quickly across the open space to a clump of trees beyond. When Dick had joined Dr. Brady and Sandy and the little group around the campfire, he had disappeared.

“Hope he’s successful,” Sandy sighed, picking up another armful of wood to throw on the fire. “You’ve shown good judgment in sending him, Dick.”

“But it’s not a very pleasant morning,” said Dr. Brady.

Dick glanced at the lowering sky, at the black clouds rolling up from the horizon and nodded grimly.
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“Yes, that’s the worst part of it, if we should have a blizzard Toma might as well come back. He’d lose Lamont’s tracks and could never find him.”

“Not in a storm,” agreed Sandy. “It would be almost impossible. But let’s hope that that won’t happen.”

Yet happen it did. They were out on the trail by that time, mushing slowly along the edge of a wide ravine, their faces toward the wind, which was very sharp and penetrating. The loose snow, covering the drifts, was awhirl by now, sweeping around them. Yet this preliminary barrage was as nothing compared to the terrific onslaught that followed. A fearful darkness descended over the earth, for the light was smothered as the snow gods hurled their challenge.

Dick and his party did the only thing possible under the circumstances. They blindly sought out the nearest shelter and clung there, helpless and as impotent as babes, mere human specks in a tremendous vortex of wind and snow. Night had fallen when finally the sky cleared. Everywhere around them were mountainous drifts, battlements, peaks and even pinnacles, showing white and ghostly in the pale starlight.

As the little party straggled forth from its shelter, the earth presented an aspect of strangeness, of newness, so entirely different from its original appearance, that one could almost believe that he had been transported in some mysterious manner to another world.
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“I honestly believe,” Sandy gasped, “that all the snow in the universe has been gathered together and dropped down in this one place.”

“It certainly looks like it,” agreed Dr. Brady, as he took a step forward and slid waist-deep into a drift. “How are we going to break trail? I certainly pity your friend Toma. Do you think it will be wise to push on until we hear from him?”

Dick shook his head despondently.

“No, we’ll have to wait here. This storm is the worst thing that could have happened. Toma may not be able to rejoin us for two or three days.”

“If not longer,” despaired Sandy.

So, imagine their surprise and delight on the following morning to find the young man in question already amongst them. Toma sauntered up with solemn unconcern to the place where Dick and Sandy were endeavoring to build a fire. No apparition could have astonished them more. From their squatting position, they looked up and gasped, then rose in unison, howling like two maniacs. They descended upon the young Indian with a varied assortment of whoops and yells, lifted him up bodily between them and carried him triumphantly away to the tent of Dr. Brady.
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“Look!” shouted Sandy. “Look what we’ve found.”

“He’s safe, doctor,” screeched Dick.

The center of so much interest and enthusiasm, one would have thought that Toma himself would have caught some of the infection. Not so. With each passing moment, his face became more and more gloomy, his manner more despondent. He struggled out of Dick’s and Sandy’s embarrassing embrace to a more dignified position on his feet. Soberly he waved them aside.

“You think mebbe I bring back Lamont,” he said bitterly. “It is not so. I no see him.”

With averted eyes and shamed, flushed face, he pushed the two boys unceremoniously to one side and stalked sombrely outside.