Part 20 (2/2)

CHAPTER XVI

THE VOICE FROM THE HILL

The sh.o.r.e of the lake was irregular, being a succession of rocky points between which narrow bays extended back to the foot of the ridge which grew higher and higher as the two progressed toward the upper end of the lake, where it terminated in a high hill upon the sides of which bold outcroppings of rock showed at intervals between thick patches of scrub timber.

It was well toward the middle of the afternoon when the two reached the head of the lake, a distance of some five or six miles from the starting point. All the steel traps had been set, and 'Merican Joe had constructed two deadfalls, which varied from those set for marten only by being more cunningly devised, and more carefully prepared.

”The other sh.o.r.e ain't so rough,” said Connie, when the second deadfall was finished. ”We can make better time going back.”

'Merican Joe swept the flat, tundra-skirting eastern sh.o.r.e with a glance. ”We ain' fool wit' dat sh.o.r.e. She too mooch no good for de fox.

We go back to camp an' tomor' we hont de nudder lak!”

”Look, what's that?” exclaimed Connie pointing toward a rocky ledge that jutted from the hillside a few rods back from the lake. ”It looks like a _cache_!”

'Merican Joe scrutinized the arrangement of weather-worn poles that supported a sagging platform, and with a non-committal grunt, led the way toward the ledge. The spot was reached after a short climb, and by ascending to another ledge close behind the first, the two were able to look down upon the platform, which was raised about eight feet from the floor of its rock-ledge.

”Funny bunch of stuff to _cache_!” exclaimed the boy. ”I'll tell you what it is, there's a grave here. I've seen the Indians over on the Yukon put stuff out beside a grave. It's for the dead man to use in the Happy Hunting Ground.”

The Indian shook his head. ”No. Ain' no grave here.”

”Maybe they buried him there beside the rock,” ventured the boy.

”No. Injun ain' bury lak' white man. If de man ees here, she would be on de rocks, lak de _cache_. Injun lay de dead man on de rock an' mak' de leetle pole house for um.”

”Well, what in thunder would anyone want to _cache_ that stuff 'way out here for? Look, there's a blanket, and it's been here so long it's about rotted to pieces, and a pipe, and moccasins, and there's the stock of a rifle sticking out beneath the blanket--those things have been there a long time--a year or two at least. But there's grub there, too. And the grub is fresh--it hasn't been there more than a month.”

'Merican Joe was silent, and as the boy turned toward him, he caught him glancing furtively over his shoulder toward the dark patches of timber that blotched the hillside. ”I ain' lak dis place. She no good,” he muttered, as he caught the boy's glance.

”What's the matter with it?” smiled Connie. ”What do you make of it?”

For answer, 'Merican Joe turned abruptly and descended to the sh.o.r.e of the lake. At the extremity of a rocky point that afforded a sweeping view of the great hillside, he stopped and waited for Connie to join him. ”Dis place, she ain' no good,” he reiterated, solemnly.

”What's the matter with it?” repeated the boy. ”You said all along, until we came across that _cache_, that it was a dandy lake to trap foxes on.”

”Good for fox, mebbe--but no good for Injun. Me--I'm t'ink I'm pull up dem trap, an' fin' som' nudder place.”

”Pull up nothing!” cried the boy. ”After all that work setting them?

Buck up! What's the matter with you anyhow?”

”Dat _cache_--she lak you say--lak de grave _cache_. But dey ain' no grave! Dat mus' got to be de _tamahnawus cache_!”

”_Tamahnawus cache!_” laughed the boy. ”_Tamahnawuses_ don't make caches.

And besides there ain't any _tamahnawuses_! Don't you remember the other _tamahnawus_--that turned out to be a man in a moose hide? I've heard a lot about 'em--but I never saw one yet.”

'Merican Joe regarded the boy gravely. ”Dat better you don't see no _tamahnawus_, neider. You say, 'ain' no _tamahnawus_, 'cos I ain' see none'. Tell me, is dere any G.o.d?”

”Why, yes, of course there's a G.o.d,” answered the boy, quickly.

<script>