Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

The Bush Lopers Carcajou swung his gaze to the low sun and estimated the amount of daylight left. “There is our share,” he explained. ‘TI do not want my goods inside the stockade. You and I will work hard and fast tonight. Then we will drink our heads off.”’ Papa La Blanche regretfully cached the keg. The confusion in the Huron and Ot- tawa villages was increasing rapidly. Men darted among the lodges, shrieking and dancing. A skin lodge caught fire, and the savages danced around this like so many evil spirits. One man fell insensible on a pile of burning bark and none offered to rescue him until his scalplock was burned off and the side of his head was roasted. Contrary to Nansoaskouet’s assurance to Du Lhut, the Hurons were not remaining in their village, but were visiting the Otta- was. Men from the two tribes vowed eternal friendship to each other and at the same time fumbled for their knives. The Ottawa camp guard, posted to keep the peace, who were supposed to refrain from the debauch, had deserted this necessary office and were. drinking. The women, seeing the men still had their arms, contrary to the customary agreement, began stealthily withdrawing to the forest and taking their children with them. The dogs were quick to sense danger and de- serted the villages. The sun went down as the last of Roose- boom’s canoes was shifted nearer the fort. Soldiers began unloading the trade goods; but although they moved briskly in carrying the goods inside the stockade they were slow to reappear. Carcajou was pleased to be- lieve they were pausing to drink the cap- tured rum after each trip. Seated aloof, with blanket over his head, he drank thoughtfully from a gourd of liquor and kept watch that Papa La Blanche did not imbibe too deeply. ; _ Dusk came, and the sweet voice of young Chartier was heard in the officers’ quarters, singing a chansonnette. It made the Wol- verene feel very sentimental, and his bold eyes were moist as he listened. The singing also slowed up the work of unloading the canoes, for coureurs de bois lingered over their keg inside the stockade to listen and applaud. “It grows dark fast. It is time we were at work, Old Papa,” decided Carcajou as he carefully propped the gourd between two pieces of driftwood. ‘‘We must cache the 103 goods west of the fort and near the water.” ‘“‘There is a medicine place the Indians never visit close to the water,” said La Blanche. “It’s a short paddle there.” Carcajou led the way to the north a quar- ter of a mile, then swung around to the west and returned to the strait on the west side of the fort and at the point where they had left their canoe. Cloud masses were blotting the stars from the western sky. Without a word they placed the canoe in the water and paddled cautiously along the shore until they were abreast of the English canoes. A flare of light at the entrance to the stock- ade permitted them to make out the dark silhouettes of several figures staggering under heavy packs of goods and from the effects of the rum. As the last of the carriers entered the stockade Carcajou with reckless daring shot his canoe inshore and slipped overboard. Seizing an English canoe, he dragged it into the water; and while Papa La Blanche was securing the tow line he waded back and floated another. This was quickly fastened to the first, and Carcajou joined his com- panion and the two paddles made short work of conveying the stolen goods down the shore. They advanced scarcely more than half a mile when La Blanche an- nounced: ‘This is it. It is a medicine place. Here Chipiapoos, brother of Nanabozho, buried the first dead man, the Algonquians say. He was an unfortunate spirit, but very gentle. His work is to guard the dead. Perhaps we’d better go farther and find another spot.” “Your mind has turned red, Old Foolish. Chipiapoos, being gentle, won’t hurt us. We only borrow enough room to hold a few English goods for a short time. So we'll work as if the evil one was chasing us. Help get them ashore. Then we'll take the empty canoes back and they’ll think the Ottawas or Hurons stole them. Don’t stop to hide them now. We'll do that later.” The cargoes were broken out, and the bales and packs were quickly unloaded. When they crawled up near the stranded canoes three men were starting for the stockade and singing lustily as they made their uneven way. The two canoes had not been missed. Carcajou waded ashore, drew the empty canoes up beside the others and calmly dragged two loaded ones into the water. Two men came from the stockade COMmMiicloOoe (©