The Scotsman immediately released his severe grasp.

"Sakes! But I'm that glad to see you, laddies, I feel just like squeezing for another hour. I suppose, noo, that I'm no' just dreaming?

You're no' by chance just twa o' them muckle moths that's come into my dream in a make-believe?"

"We're human, sure enough," Arnold laughed in reply, and Alf added--

"Terribly human we are, for we've lost our way in the forest, and we're beastly tired as well as hungry."

"Lost--tired--hungry?" repeated Mackintosh. "That has a human sound--terribly human, as you say." Then he turned towards the half-breed, who had been standing an amazed spectator of the scene. "Did you hear that, Haggis?" he demanded. "Did you hear that--'hungry and tired'?"

"Haggis hear," was the quiet reply of the native, to which the Scot retorted angrily--

"You heard? And yet, one meenit after, I see you standing there like a daft gowk instead o' hustling for food as fast as your legs can move you? Ma conscience! But you tak' a deal of ceevilising! You dinna ken the first meaning o' the word 'hospitality.' Off wi' you!"

There was no need to repeat the order, for the half-breed immediately disappeared within the tent, and the almost simultaneous rattling sound of tin-ware was evidence of his haste to supply the want.

Mackintosh then turned to the boys.

"Noo then, rest yourselves, laddies. Sit doon by the fire, and you'll soon have a bit o' something to grind between your molars. Haggis is slow to understand, but he's quick enough when he kens what's wanted."

Not unwillingly, the chums soon stretched themselves in comfortable positions beside the camp-fire at either side of their eccentric host.

Bannock, however, still eyed the strangers with suspicion, so Mackintosh was forced to introduce the dog formally to each boy in turn, at which the intelligent animal extended a paw with all the air of one who is accustomed to polite society.

"He's a fine chap," explained the Scot. "There's no' a single thing that he canna do (according to the leemitations o' Nature) except speak. And even that he manages to do in his ain way. Noo, come here, Bannock, and lie down while oor freends spin us their yarn. They've no' told us yet who they are, where they come frae, nor where they're going."

"That's a yarn that's quickly told," remarked Bob. The half-breed by this time had returned from the tent with generous supplies of cold deer, damper, and wild berries, after serving which he placed a pan on the fire in preparation for coffee. "It's a yarn that won't take long in the telling, though, if you'll excuse me, I'll eat while I speak."

"Eat awa'," a.s.sented the other, while he lit a corn-cob pipe to satisfy his own immediate wants. "There's plenty mair where that came frae, and the coffee will soon be ready!"

Arnold then launched into a brief recital of his and his chum's adventures, beginning with the departure of their fathers on the previous morning, and concluding--

"So all this afternoon we've been wandering about trying to find a path back to our camp, so as to start afresh by the river course. But it was no use."

"And we might have been wandering still if it had not been for a strange accident that led us here," added Alf, at which remark Mackintosh questioned--

"And what might that be? The soond o' Haggis's nightingale voice?"

"No--at least, not in the first place. We heard that later. What first started us in this direction was a curious sort of light that we discovered on one of the trees. And while we were examining it we noticed that there were other lights on other trees in a straight line with one another. Strange, wasn't it?"

"Very," returned the Scotsman dryly. "Very strange."

"It would be a good thing for a naturalist," said Bob. "I noticed that there was a perfect cloud of moths flying about wherever there was a patch of light. A collector of moths and b.u.t.terflies would reap a harvest. I suppose you've noticed the lights as well as we?"

"H'm--yes--considering that I painted the trees mysel' this afternoon,"

was the reply. "It's an invention o' my own. I'm what _you_ call a collector of moths and b.u.t.terflies. An entomologist is a shorter way o'

putting it. Well, there's many folks stick to treacle--I mean, stick to the auld-fashioned way o' putting dabs of treacle and speerit on trees to attract the nocturnal creatures. That's all very fine and good. But you canna carry gallons o' treacle on a tramp like this, when your whole outfit must be packed on one pony. So says I to mysel': 'Moths are attracted by light; I must invent a composeetion o' phosphorus to take the place o' treacle.' And those lights that you found on yon trees are the result."

"And a splendid idea it is!" exclaimed Alf, who had also done his little share of treacling at school. "Is it a success?"

"Magnificent. I've found more moths than were known to exist in the West. I'm thinking that I'll open the eyes o' the Royal Edinburgh Entomological General Natural History Exchange Society when I get back again after my journeys. But----" The speaker here paused in his enthusiasm, remarking seriously, "I'm thinking there's other matters o'

mair importance before us the noo than moths. Your faithers went doon the Athabasca, you said?"

"Yes; in a canoe," said Bob.

Mackintosh shook his head ominously.

"That's bad. I suppose they'd never been there before--indeed, it was no' possible, or they'd never have made the attempt yesterday."

"Is it--dangerous?" questioned Holden, in an undertone of dread, for the man's voice conveyed no small impression of the risks the voyagers had run. "We had not thought of danger in the river. We only thought of moose."

Mackintosh grunted uneasily.

"The river is more treacherous than any moose. There's a terrible narrow bight atween cliffs where it runs like lightning, and then shoots in a waterfall into the Silver Lake. Man! I've seen great trunks o' pine giants flung through yon opening like wee arrows a hundred feet in the air afore they touched water again."

"Then a canoe----"

"If it reached so far in safety it would shoot likewise."

"You think it possible that the canoe _might_ pa.s.s the gully unharmed?"

Bob then questioned. It was always his nature to struggle for the brightest view, and the man's answer was somewhat in the same spirit.

"It's no' the way o' Skipper Mackintosh to find trouble until trouble finds him. He's been in a' the back corners o' Europe, Africa, India, China, and America; and, if he learned nothing mair from his travels, he learned this: troubles are easier conquered when you meet them wi' a firm lip at the proper time. But the man that moans before he kens what he's moaning about--well, it's little strength he's got left when the fight really begins."

"Yet if, as you say, the Athabasca is so dangerous----" began Alf, when he was again interrupted with kindly roughness.

"If? Laddie, laddie, are you forgetting that there's a Hand that could guide the frailest birch-bark safely through Niagara itsel'? And I doot not that I'm right when I say that it's my opeenion that that same Hand has no' been very far from your faithers in their plight. Does either o'

you ken anything o' this by chance?"

As he spoke Mackintosh dived his hand into the hip-pocket of his overalls and produced a white handkerchief which he spread out upon the ground by the fire. The boys bent forward, and immediately Alf exclaimed--

"That's my father's! See! His initials are at the corner. Where did you find it?"

"_Not_ in the Athabasca!" said Mackintosh with quiet triumph. "Haggis and I came upon it this morning a hundred yards from Silver Lake."

"Then that means that they are on sh.o.r.e!" exclaimed Bob with delight at the relief from one anxiety that the evidence of the handkerchief provided.

"Ay. The Athabasca is free from that charge, at any rate. That hanky has no legs to walk by itsel'. It must have been carried. By whom? No' by an Indian, though I ken there's been Indians in the viceenity. If a redskin had found it, he'd have taken better care o' it. And so it's clear to me that one o' your faithers must have dropped it on dry land, and so--so---- Well, you both o' you can have a sound night's rest."

So convincing were the tones in which the man clothed his words that the spirits of the boys were quickly stirred from gloomy antic.i.p.ations to comparative cheerfulness.

"You've lifted a load from my mind, Mr. Mackintosh," Bob said gratefully, "for of course it is all fairly plain now. As likely as not they pa.s.sed through that horrible gully, but were too worn out yesterday to start the trudge back to camp. It would be a long way, too, seeing how the river winds."

"In that case, most likely they are back at the camp by this time,"

suggested Alf. "But they would understand our being away, for they would find the note that we pinned to the tent."

"That's right, laddies. Look for the bright side and you'll always find it," the Scotsman remarked. "But I'm thinking that your reasoning is a wee bit oot in one respect--they have no' gone back yet, else Haggis or I would have seen them. This camp is in the direct natural path from that part o' the Athabasca. My opeenion is that they've fallen in with the Indians--a tribe o' Dacotahs, and peaceable folk they are. It's no'

to be expected that the gully could be pa.s.sed unscathed. So it's likely to me that they're nursing themselves for a day wi' the redskins, after, maybe, sending a brave to your camp to tell you o' it. So to-morrow we'll lose no time in starting for Silver Lake. That's the best plan I can think o'."

"You mean to come with us?" asked Alf.