Adventure Magazine Cover — page 139: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

he recognized as Nelson Steene’s. 2a si as Sart 3 before he had guided Clara to the Free Trader’s camp. Steene’s hiding place was on the spruce _ ridge just above the beaver meadow in the center of the Point, and over the dam Drum- ming Grouse crept as silently as a shadow. ‘At the farther end he could mark Henri Dalmas’ post runner, half buried in the rub- bish of the dam, only his head showing like the upthrust of a tree stump. His watching eyes on the ridge above him, the post runner was not aware of the stealing shadow till the Cree bowsman suddenly towered over him. - Thenvhe leaped from his burrow, but Drum- ming Grouse’s lithe strength bore him down. The Cree’s hands were about his neck, choking back the warning he attempted to shout for the benefit of the watcher in the canoe offshore, and together they rolled in the rub- bish of the beaver dam till the crackling of the sticks’ reached the camp on the ridge above. While he struggled Drumming Grouse could hear some one running softly in the moss of the slope, and abruptly a rifle barrel poked over the end of the dam into his face. - “Who’s here?”? demanded an incisive voice “Stand out or [’ll shoot.” Drumming Grouse arose. He had forced a wad of buckskin as a gag into the post runner’s mouth and knotted buckskin thongs about his wrists and ankles. “It is Drumming Grouse and a spy of Hen- ~ derson’s, > he announced coolly. “They found me, then?” “Ae, there is another spy in a canoe out yonder, and all the rest are flocking to take you. The factor’s daughter sent me. Come. At Norway House there is the great canoe of the governor with which to escape.” - They were climbing the ridge as Drumming Grouse explained, and from its top they caught the dark loom of canoe brigades driving over from Norway House. “Be quick,” the Cree urged. ‘‘When they round the point we can get off without being seen.’ “You’ re right, Drumming Crouse, ” nodded Steene, gaging the distance of the brigades. “‘We must break camp like lightning.” Steene swept aside the branches where in a mossy space lighted by no camp-fire, illumi- nated only by the dull glow of seven Ojibway pipes, his canoemen lay with their dunnage. Luckily there was only the canopy of the green trees overhead and no canvas to pull down, and the seven pipes were pocketed and the seven Ojibways sprang into action at Steene’s com- mand. “Take your dunnage,” he directed tersely. “Shoulder the canoes and follow us.” He was down the ridge again the moment he words were out of his mouth, the fore- ioe of his Ojibways close on him with the Sera vac “Seen ay = «= San te pe + * fae The Long Traverse eee ae” ae “ pr en Ma ct 129 packs, the rearmost bobbing under the canoes. “Be careful of the hulls,” he cautioned them. “Don’t spike them. Reaching Norway House depends on sound bottoms.” The Ojibway canoemen heeded his caution. With marvelous celerity they bored through the green growth, yet with a care that saved the precious birch-barks from puncture, to emerge finally at the water’s edge. “Listen,” requested Drumming Grouse. Out of the night came the whistle of the snipe. “It is the signal to cross, ”” interpreted the Cree. ‘The way is clear.” Swiftly the canoes were launched and like fantom crews they glided toward Norway House. The call of the snipe was repeated, issuing from a little cove down-channel from them, and pointing their prows for the cove they drifted in light as leaves upon the land- locked water. Drumming Grouse, first to ‘land, darted away to the post. In the shadows stood Clara Travis, her arms full of some strange garments, Steene sprang out and grasped her hands im- pulsively. “Why, Clara, what’s this?” he whispered, fingering the garments she held. “The governor’s coat and hat,” she told him. “T got them out of Norway House. He’s in there with my father now, waiting till they take you.’ “By Heavens, they'll never take me,” de- clared Steene passionately. “Nor will he ever take you.” “Ah, but we must hurry, ” breathed the girl, thrusting the coat and hat upon him. “Quick, put them on. You must seize the big canoe on the shore, and the disguise will help. I have spoken to Drumming Grouse and he has gone to spirit provisions and equipment enough out of Norway House to fill the craft. You can get them as we go by.” Steene dropped his own leather cap on the and - rocks and clapped Burnham’s large drooping | hat of felt, decked with an osprey feather, upon his head. Clara Travis looked into his face and with her deft fingers swept out of sight the waves of brown hair that fell over Steene’s temples. “There,” she murmured, pulling the brim forward. ‘Let the plume fall on the left shoulder—so. Noone could tell the difference. Now, the coat. Draw it close.” Steene buttoned the coat about him as they made a short détour around the post. Burn- ham was a big man, but the garment cut tightly into Steene’s great chest and shoulders. It lacked length, too, for his tall figure, flapping well above the knees, but he knew the Iroquois canoemen would not notice it in the night. 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