The Golden Canyon by G. A. Henty (good novels to read .txt) 📗

but one cedar on it," he returned. "It must have floated up here in the water and taken root in the ice. Even Captain Sumner can't understand that part of it."

On the following day the Dart again set sail for the coast of Siberia.

They were well into the sea of Kamtchatka, and felt that they must soon strike the spot mentioned in Ruel Gross' memorandums, if the old sailor had taken his observations correctly.

"If only we were sure father was alive!" Bob murmured more than once.

Three days passed, and Bob was one morning in the foretop when suddenly he gave a wild shout.

"Land ahoy!"

"Where away?" asked Captain Sumner quickly.

For from the deck nothing but icebergs were to be seen.

"To the northwest, sir. Will you let me have the glass?"

The glass was quickly brought and adjusted. The captain gave one glance.

"Ah! Bob, look!"

The boy did so, and then gave a shout that brought everyone on board on deck.

"Cedar Island!"

Chapter XI.—Among A Strange Foe.

It was true.

Far off to the northwest they could see the shore of a land that was covered with ice and snow.

The snow was of a reddish color, and the ice a deep blue.

But this was not all, nor by far the strangest part of the picture.

On the top of a hill, amid the snow, there stood a large cedar tree.

Its heavy branches swayed in the breeze mournfully; for though standing as if planted, the tree was dead.

For several minutes those on the Dart viewed the scene.

Then Bob broke the spell.

"Do you know what I think?" he said.

"I think that dead cedar was stuck up on the hill for a guide."

"Perhaps you are right," returned Captain Sumner. "One thing is certain—we have reached Cedar Island, as Gross called it. Probably the ground has a Russian name a yard long."

"Let us waste no time in getting ashore," cried Bob. "My father may be waiting for us!"

At this the captain said nothing, not wishing to hurt the boy's feelings. But the Dart continued on her course, and soon they dropped anchor in deep water but a few rods from the edge of the land.

Bob was the first to enter the small boat. He was followed by the captain and Jack and two sailors.

The shore of the land reached, they gazed around curiously.

"Looks deserted," said Bob, in a disappointed tone of voice. "But come on up to the cedar. We may be able to discover something from the top of the hill." The ascent was quickly made by Bob, but scarcely was the top gained than a shout was heard from below.

"Savages!"

Bob was right. The sight that met his eyes startled him as he had never been startled before.

Rushing forward, they perceived the yacht surrounded by a half-score of canoes.

Two others were drawn up on the beach, and half a dozen or more copper-colored savages were standing round the dingy.

"We must save our boat at any cost!" cried Captain Sumner.

As they dashed down the hill the savages turned, armed with clubs, to face them.

One was bending a bow, but a shot from Bob's gun broke his arm.

Jack also fired, and the aborigines, all save one, took to flight, jumping into one of the canoes.

This brave chief, for such he looked, wielding a heavy club with both hands, rushed at our hero.

Bob threw up his gun to parry the blow.

The weapon was struck from his hand, but the blow fell harmless.

Before the tall savage could regain his balance Bob bounded on him, clasping him round the body.

But if our hero was strong, the native was stronger.

Dropping his club, he seized his adversary's throat, and, forcing back his head, made him relinquish his hold.

Then, seizing him round the waist, he flung him at the captain, whom he upset, at the same instant springing into the sea and swimming after his companions.

The whole affair did not last a minute.

Jack, who had reloaded, fired upon the overcrowded canoe.

Two paddles fell into the water and drifted away.

No sooner did they clamber on board than they were saluted with a score of spears, which stuck in the masts and deck, one passing through the fleshy part of a sailor's arm.

"Here, man, go below and bathe it in brandy," cried the captain. "Drink some, too. The rest of you get under shelter of the bulwarks.

"I have heard that these fellows poison their spears and arrowheads," he continued to our hero.

"Will they come back, do you think?" questioned Bob.

"Perhaps—we must remain on guard."

The next few hours were very anxious ones on board of the Dart.

Chapter XII.—Bob's Discovery.

Night came, and the hostile natives showed no sign of returning.

A strict watch was kept until morning, but nothing out of the ordinary happened.

In the meantime Captain Sumner and Bob examined the map with great care and also read and reread the papers Ruel Gross had left behind him.

"Let us go on another tour of exploration," said the captain, on the following day. "If those natives come back Bok can fire a gun to warn us."

The boy readily agreed and they set off without delay.

Once under the dead cedar tree they looked around them curiously.

A short distance further inland they saw a hollow, which had evidently at one time been a camp.

Tin cans were strewn around, along with a number of fish and animal bones.

"I wonder if father and Ruel Gross once encamped here?" thought Bob.

Hardly had the idea occurred to him than Captain Sumner set up a shout.

He was pointing to a post set up in the ice. To the top of the post was attached a rude sign, which read:

"To the Svlachkys' Camp—One Mile."

"Hurrah! here's a discovery!" cried Bob. "Shall we go on?"

"Yes; but let us advance with extreme caution. These Svlachkys may be very bad people."

"Undoubtedly there are, or they wouldn't keep my father a prisoner," rejoined Bob.

"That signpost must be the work of Ruel Gross," went on the captain. "The savages haven't dared to touch it, thinking there was something supernatural attached to it—something to injure them."

On went the captain and Bob, down one hill of ice and up another. It was extremely cold, but neither minded that.

At last they reached a portion of the island that was very uneven. Great chasms yawned to the right and left of them. It was with difficulty that they pushed forward.

But they were bound to go on, and go they did, until at the mouth of what looked like a cave of ice the captain called a halt.

"Listen!" he whispered. "I hear voices."

Bob listened. Captain Sumner was right. From the cavern came the sounds of several human tongues.

"They are not speaking Russian," said the captain. "Perhaps we have stumbled upon more savages."

Hardly had he spoken when three human beings came into view.

They were bundled up in furs, in strong contrast to the other natives, who had scarcely any body-covering.

The new-comers were jabbering among themselves at a great rate.
Presently they came to a halt before a large slab of ice.

They tugged and pounded on this until the slab fell to one side, revealing a strange-looking opening.

"What are they up to now?" whispered Bob.

"I don't know—wait."

They waited. Presently the three men disappeared within the opening. Soon a smoke came out, and they saw that firebrands had been lit to light up the scene.

"That may be the place where the stone chest is kept," said Bob.

"More likely it is a burial place," replied Captain Sumner. "I've seen such spots before. Maybe they're preparing for a funeral."

"Can't we get a little closer to them?"

"It would not be safe. Hark!"

From a distance they heard the mournful toot of a large horn.

"That's a funeral horn, I'm sure," said the captain. "If they are coming this way we had better—Hullo! look!"

The captain pointed to an opening to their left.

A band of men were advancing.

They were guarding a prisoner—a white man, who walked in their midst.

Bob gave the white man one swift look, and then shrieked out at the top of his voice:

"It's my father!"

Chapter XIII.—The Big Polar Bear.

"Your father!" cried Captain Sumner.

"Yes, my father," repeated Bob, in high excitement. "What shall we do?"

He felt like rushing forward, but the captain restrained him.

"We can do nothing against such a force of men," he said. "Wait—or—"
He hesitated.

"What?"

"You or I might go back to the Dart for help. Every man on board can come heavily armed. When these people see our number they may be willing to talk reasonably to us."

"That's so, but I hate to leave," returned Bob. "They may do some harm to my father in the meantime."

"Then I will go, Bob. But mind, keep shady, unless they do something very bad."

Bob promised, and without delay Captain Sumner started on the return to the Dart.

With a wildly beating heart Bob watched the people who held his father a captive.

They were marching along silently now and did not stop until the center of the cave of ice was reached.

Here the party assembled in a circle at a point where there was a slight elevation.

Two of the men had axes, and with these they began to chop at the elevation, causing the pieces of ice to fly in all directions.

"Now what are they going to do?" thought our hero.

Presently he heard a slight noise behind him. Somewhat startled, he turned around to find himself face to face with a monstrous polar bear!

The beast had just discovered Bob. For a moment he stood still.

Then with a growl he leaped directly for the astonished youth.

Had Bob not sprung out of the way the bear would have landed on his head.

But Bob moved with the quickness of lightning, and this saved his life.

The bear, however, came down so close to the boy's side that our hero had no time left to fire at him.

He struck the bear one hasty blow with his gun stock and then ran for dear life.

Recovering, the huge beast came after him.

Although a heavyweight, the bear managed to cover the ground with incredible swiftness.

Down the side of the icy hill went Bob, with the bear less than a dozen feet in the rear.

The plain below reached, Bob scarcely knew which way to turn.

The bear uttered growl after growl, showing that he was working himself up to a perfect fury.

"I must get to the yacht, if possible," thought Bob, and headed in the direction without delay.

On and on came the polar bear.

He did not seem to gain, neither did he lose.

So far the race had been about even, but Bob felt he could not keep up that terrific strain much longer.

As he ran he fingered his gun nervously.

Should he risk a shot?

"I must do something," he said to himself desperately.

And wheeling about he took hasty aim and blazed away.

The shot was not a bad one. The bullet struck the polar bear in the side of the head, causing him to stagger back and halt.

On went Bob again, and by the time the bear recovered sufficiently to continue the pursuit he was nearly fifty yards in advance.

But the bear was undaunted, and on he came as swiftly as before.

Once Bob stumbled and almost gave himself up for lost.

But he scrambled up quickly, and was relieved to see the bear stop, not being able to make out what was about to happen.

Then on went again, until, with a cry of terror, Bob leaped back.

He had reached the edge of a swiftly flowing stream, which ran between smooth banks of ice.

To attempt to leap that body of water would be highly dangerous, and to enter it might cost him his life.

And now the polar bear was at his very heels.

Chapter XIV.—The