Flora's dear face took shape before me in the frosty air, and I fancied I could hear her voice pleading with me to remain at the fort. Should I ever return to her arms again? The thought lent me speed, and I out distanced my companions. The next instant I tripped in a clump of bushes and fell headlong, and plump on top of me came Carteret and Captain Rudstone.

We were all three so tangled together that our efforts to extricate ourselves only led to worse confusion. We broke through the crust and floundered in soft and powdery snow. As we struggled hard--we had fled but a short distance--the avalanche struck the valley close behind us.

There was first a mighty crash that made the ground tremble, next a long, deafening grind like a hundred thunderpeals in one, and then the hissing rush of a few belated rocks.

Silence followed, and we knew that we were saved. With grateful hearts and trembling limbs we scrambled out of our pit and regained the firm crust.

"Thank G.o.d!" I exclaimed.

"We had a close shave of it, comrades," Carteret said huskily, as he wiped the perspiration from his brow.

We turned back and were pulled up short within twenty feet. For in front of us, stretching two-thirds of the way across the valley, was a lofty barrier of snow, trees and bowlders; its track down the hillside was marked by a clean, wide swath, the beginning of which we could not see.

And deep under the fallen ma.s.s, covered by tons and tons of compact debris, was the crushed body of Hiram Buckhorn.

"He could not have a better grave," said Captain Rudstone. "No men or beasts will ever despoil it."

"Peace to his bones!" replied Carteret, reverently taking off his cap.

"He deserved to live, after what he did."

"But the gold!" I cried. "It is buried with him!"

"And there it will stay," Captain Rudstone said coolly. "Even when the snow melts in the spring, it will be covered deep by rocks and trees that no man could drag away."

The old voyageur appeared equally unconcerned. Money meant little to him, and I could understand the captain taking as easy a view of the loss. But with myself it way different, I confess. I looked forward to marriage, and for Flora's sake I longed for my share of the precious nuggets. But there was nothing to be done--nothing further to be said.

With a heavy heart I turned and followed my companions down the valley.

We quickly cut the deer apart, burdening ourselves with the choicest haunches, and then set off on our return to the fort.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

A CONVIVIAL MORNING.

It must have been an hour past midnight when we broke from the forest into the clearing, and as we strode across toward the stockade we noted with relief that all was still and peaceful. Malcolm Cameron greeted us at the gate, and we pa.s.sed on to receive a hearty welcome at the house.

With the exception of Pemecan, our comrades were all awake, sprawled about a blazing tire, and at sight of the meat we carried they set up a great shout.

"Hush! you will rouse Miss Hatherton!" said I, for I saw that she had retired.

However, I doubt if she had slept a wink; and no sooner was there a lull in the conversation than she called from the little room adjoining, in a hesitating voice:

"Have you returned, Denzil?"

"Yes," I replied. "I am back, safe and sound, and with a fat deer for breakfast. But go to sleep at once; it is very late."

"I will," Flora answered. "Good-night, Denzil."

"Good-night," I responded, and then my face grew hot as I saw Captain Rudstone regarding me with half-veiled amus.e.m.e.nt.

"You are a lucky chap, Carew," he said; "but you have well earned your happiness."

I never quite knew how to take the captain's words, so I merely nodded in reply. We were all sleepy, and without delay we completed the preparations for the night. Two men were chosen for sentry duty at the gate--Luke Hutter and Baptiste, and the latter at once relieved Cameron and sent him in. Carteret and I had a look about the inclosure, and then, after putting a great beam on the fire, we rolled ourselves in our blankets and laid down beside our companions.

I must have fallen asleep as soon as my eyes closed, for I remembered nothing until I was roused by a hand on my shoulder. Luke Hutter was standing over me, and from head to foot he was thickly coated with snow.

The gray light of dawn glimmered behind the frosted windows, and I heard a hoa.r.s.e whistling noise. The fire was blazing cheerily, for Baptiste had replenished it when he came off duty. Several of the men were stirring; the others were sound asleep.

"A bad day to travel, Mr. Carew," said Hutter.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

For answer he led me to the door, and as he opened it a fine cloud of snow whirled into the room. I cried out with astonishment, for one of those rapid changes of weather so common in northern lat.i.tudes had taken place during the night. A storm of wind and snow, much like a blizzard, was raging violently. The cold was intense, and it was impossible to see more than a yard or two in front of one's face.

"It began several hours ago," said Hutter, "and it is good to last until night. If we set out for Fort Charter we shall lose our way, sir, and perhaps become exhausted and freeze to death."

I agreed with Hutter, and after some reflection I hit upon a plan that afforded me no little pleasure. My companions were by this time awake and up, and I called their attention to the storm. As to the danger and impossibility of proceeding on our journey, they were all of one mind.

"We need a rest," said I, "and here is a chance to take it, with a bit of recreation and enjoyment thrown in. There is not the slightest risk of an attack by Indians. We can spare a day, and we have snug quarters and enough to eat. The storm will doubtless abate by to-morrow morning, and then we will push on. What do you say, men?"

They a.s.sented readily, even with enthusiasm, and I saw that they entered fully into the spirit which had prompted me to make the proposal.

"I'm thinking it will be like old times," said Cameron. "It was a happy life at Fort Royal, on the whole, sir. There's one thing we'll be lacking for the day's pleasure--a stiff gla.s.s of grog all round."

"We'll manage to get along without it," I replied. "And now let's finish up the work; there is plenty to do."

First of all we made a kettleful of warm water by melting snow, and I handed a pannikin of it in to Flora, whom I had heard stirring for some time. She bade me a sweet good-morning, and showed me a glimpse of her pretty face round the corner of the door. Then some of us began to prepare breakfast--we had found an ample supply of dish ware in the fort--and others demolished a part of the stockade and brought the timbers in for fuel. Captain Rudstone and I busied ourselves by making the crevices of the door and windows secure against wind and sifting snow. For once we dispensed with sentry duty, thinking it to be unnecessary.

As breakfast was ready to be served, Flora tripped out of her little room looking radiantly beautiful. When she learned that we were to stop at the fort that day her eyes glowed with pleasure, and what I read in them set my heart beating fast. Seated about the fire on benches and rickety stools, we attacked the delicious slices of venison, the steaming coffee, and the crisp cakes of cornmeal. Then, the dishes washed and the room tidied a bit, we heaped the fire high and settled ourselves for a long morning. Outside the wind howled and the whirling snow darkened the air; inside was warmth and cheer and comfort.

Looking back to that day over the gulf of years, I can recall few occasions of keener enjoyment. The security and comfort were in such strong contrast to what we had lately suffered, that we abandoned ourselves wholly to the pleasure of the pa.s.sing moment. We forgot the tragedies and sufferings that lay behind us, and gave no thought to what the uncertain future might hold in store. For me the horizon was unclouded. Flora was by my side, and I looked forward to soon calling her my wife.

Luckily, we had plenty of tobacco, and wreaths of fragrant smoke curled from blackened pipes. Baptiste and Carteret sang the dialect songs of the wilderness; Duncan Forbes amused us with what he called a Highland fling, and Pemecan, to the accompaniment of outlandish chanting, danced an Indian war-dance. Captain Rudstone and Christopher Burley, who were rarely anything but quiet and reserved, showed us sides of their characters that we had not suspected before; they clapped their hands and joined in the laughter and merriment. And in Flora's unfeigned happiness and light spirits I took my greatest enjoyment.

"Comrade, it's your turn," said Forbes, addressing old Malcolm Cameron.

"Maybe you'll be giving us your imitation of the skirl of the bagpipes."

"Man, it's too dry work," Cameron replied. "If I had a wee drop of liquor--But it's no use asking for that."

"By the way, Carew," said Captain Rudstone, "as I was overhauling that heap of rubbish in the cellar this morning, I pulled out a small cask.

Could it contain anything drinkable?"

I was on my feet like a shot.

"Come; we'll see!" I cried. "Lead the way!"

I followed the captain to the cellar and we found the cask. I quickly broached it, and to my delight it, contained what I had scarcely ventured to hope for--a fine old port wine.

"Where did it come from?" asked the captain, smacking his lips.