 Book 3, Chapter 2, Corporal Cameron of the Northwest Mounted Police, a tale of the McLeod Trail. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Anita Slima-Martinez. Corporal Cameron of the Northwest Mounted Police, Book 3, Chapter 2. On the Wings of the Storm. Shivering and hungry and fighting with sleep, Cameron stamped up and down his cave, making now and then excursions into the storm to replenish his fire. Unsharpened sticks, slices of venison were cooking for his supper. Outside the storm raged with greater violence than ever, and into the cave the bitter cold penetrated, effectually neutralizing the warmth of the little fire, for the wood was hard to get and a larger fire he could not afford. He looked at his watch and was amazed to find it only five o'clock. How long could he maintain this fight? His heart sank at the prospect of the long night before him. He sat down upon the rock close beside his cooking venison, and in a few moments was fast asleep. He awoke with a start and found that the fire had crept along a jutting branch and had reached his fingers. He sprang to his feet. The fire lay in smoldering embers for the sticks were mere brushwood. A terrible fear seized him. His life depended upon the maintaining of this fire. Carefully he assembled the embers and nursed them into bright flame. At all costs he must keep awake. Further excursion into the woods for fuel thoroughly roused him from his sleep. Soon his fire was blazing brightly again. Consulting his watch he found that he must have slept half an hour. He determined that in order to keep himself awake and to provide against the growing coal he would lay in a stock of firewood, and so he began a systematic search for fallen trees that he might drag to his shelter. As he was sitting forth upon his search he became aware of a new sound mingling with the roaring of the storm about him, a soft pounding rhythmic sound. With every nerve strained he listened. It was like the beating of hoofs. He ran out into the storm and holding his hands to his ears bent forward to listen. Faintly over the roaring of the blizzard and rising and falling with it there came the sound of singing. Am I mad he said to himself beating his head with his hands? He rushed into the cave, threw upon the fire all the brushwood he had gathered until it sprang up into a great glare lighting up the cave and its surroundings. Then he rushed forth once more to the turn of the rock. The singing could now be plainly heard. Three cheers for the red, white. Get on there, you variously colored and multitudinously cursed brutes. Three cheers for the red, high there. Look out, little thunder, there off to the left. Hello, yelled Cameron at the top of his voice. Hello there. Whoa, yelled a voice sharply. The sound of hoof beats ceased and only the roaring of the blizzard could be heard. Hello, cried Cameron again. Who are you? But only the gale answered him. Again and again he called, but no voice replied. Once more he rushed into the cave, seized his rifle and fired a shot into the air. Crack, crack! Two bullets spat against the rock over his head. Hold on there, you fool, yelled Cameron dodging back behind the rock. What are you shooting at? Hello there! Still there was no reply. Long he waited till desperate with anxiety list his unknown visitors should abandon him. He ran forward once more beyond the ledge of the rock shouting, Hello, hello, don't shoot, I'm coming out to you. At the turn of the rocky ledge he paused, concentrating his powers to catch some sound other than the dull boom and hiss of the blizzard. Suddenly at his side something moved. Put up your hands quick. A dark shape with arm thrust straight before it loomed through the drift of snow. Oh, I say, began Cameron, quick said the voice with a terrible oath, or I drop you where you stand. All right, said Cameron, lifting up his hands with his rifle high above his head. But hurry up, I can't stand this long. I am nearly frozen as it is. The man came forward, still covering him with his pistol. He ran his free hand over Cameron's person. How many of you, he asked in a voice sharp and crisp. I am all alone, but hurry up. I am about all in. Lead on to your fire, said the stranger, but if you want to live, no monkey work. I've got you lined. Cameron led the way to the fire. The stranger threw a swift glance around the cave. Then with eyes still holding Cameron, he whistled shrilly on his fingers. Almost immediately it seemed to Cameron there came into the light another man who proved to be an Indian, short, heavily built, with the face hideously ugly, and rendered more repulsive by the small, red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes that seemed to Cameron to peer like gimlets into his very soul. At a word of command the Indian possessed himself of Cameron's rifle and stood at the entrance. Now, said the stranger, talk quick. Who are you? How did you come here? Quick and to the point. I am a surveyor, said Cameron briefly. MacIver's gang. I was left at camp to cook, saw a deer, wounded it, followed it up, lost my way. The storm caught me, but thank God I found this cave, and with my last match lit the fire. I was trying to cook my venison when I heard you coming. The gray-brown eyes of the stranger never left Cameron's face while he was speaking. You're a liar, he said with cold insolence when Cameron had finished his tale. You look to me like a blank, blank horse thief or whiskey trader. Faint as he was with cold and hunger the deliberate insolence of the man stirred Cameron to sudden rage. The blood flooded his pale face. You cowered, he cried in a choking voice, gathering himself to spring at the man's throat. But the stranger only laughed, and stepping backward spoke a word to the Indian behind him. Before he could move, Cameron found himself covered by the rifle with the malignant eye of the Indian behind it. Hold on, little thunder, drop it, said the stranger with a slight laugh. Reluctantly the rifle came down. All right, Mr. Surveyor, said the stranger with a good-natured laugh. Pardon my abruptness, I was merely testing you. One cannot be too careful in these parts nowadays when the woods are full of horse thieves and whiskey runners. Oh, come on, he continued glancing at Cameron's face. I apologize. So you're lost, eh? Hungry, too? Well, so am I, and though I was not going to feed just yet, we may as well grub together. Bring the cattle into shelter here, he said to little thunder. They will stand right enough and get busy with the grub. The Indian grunted a remonstrance. Oh, that's all right, replied the stranger, hand it over. He took Cameron's rifle from the Indian and set it in the corner. Now get a move on. We have no time to waste. So saying, he hurried out himself into the storm. In a few minutes Cameron could hear the blows of an axe, and soon the stranger appeared with a load of dry wood with which he built up a blazing fire. He was followed shortly by the Indian, who from a sack drew out bacon, hardtack, and tea, and with cooking utensils produced from another sack, speedily prepared supper. Pile in, said the stranger to Cameron, passing him the pan in which the bacon and venison had been fried. Pass the tea, little thunder. No time to waste. We've got to hustle. Cameron was only too eager to obey these orders, and in the generous warmth of the big fire and under the stimulus of the boiling tea, his strength and nerve began to come back to him. For some minutes he was too intent on satisfying his ravenous hunger to indulge in conversation with his host, but as his hunger became appeased, he began to give his attention to the man who had so mysteriously flown in upon him out of the blizzard. There was something fascinating about the lean, clean-cut face with its firm lines about the mouth and chin, and its deep-set brown-gray eyes that glittered like steel or shone like limpid pools of light according to the mood of the man. They were extraordinary eyes. Cameron remembered them like dagger points behind the pistol, and then like kindly lights in a dark window when he had smiled. Just now, as he sat eating with eager haste, the eyes were staring forward into the fire out of deep sockets with a faraway, reminiscent, kindly look in them. The lumberman's heavy skin-lined jacket and the overall stuck-in debuts could not hide the athletic lines of the light muscular figure. Cameron looked at his hands with their long, sinewy fingers. The hands of a gentleman thought he. What is his history? And where does he come from? London's my home, said the stranger answering Cameron's mental queries. Dame Raven, Richard Colbrooke Raven, Dick for short. Rancher, horse, and cattle trader. East Kootenay, at present running in a stock of goods and horses and caught like yourself in this beastly blizzard. My name's Cameron, and I'm from Edinburgh a year ago, replied Cameron briefly. Edinburgh. Knew it ten years ago, quiet old town, point folk. Never know what they're thinking about you. Cameron smiled. How well he remembered the calm, detached, critical, but uncurious gaze with which the dwellers of the modern Athens were wont to regard mere outsiders. I know, he said, I came from the north myself. The stranger had apparently forgotten him and was gazing steadily into the fire. Suddenly, with extraordinary energy, he sprang from the ground where he had been sitting. Now he cried, all en avant. Where to? asked Cameron, rising to his feet. East Kootenay, all the way, and hustles the word. Not me, said Cameron. I must get back to my camp. If you will kindly leave me some grub and some matches, I shall be all right and very much obliged. MacGyver will be searching for me tomorrow. Ha! First forth the stranger in vehement expletive. Searching for you, ha! He stood for a few moments in deep thought, then spoke to the Indian a few words in his own language. That individual, with a fierce glance towards Cameron, granted a grub reply. No, no, said Raven, also glancing at Cameron. Again the Indians spoke, this time with insistent fierceness. No, no, you cold-blooded devil, replied the traitor. No, but, he added with emphasis, we will take him with us. Pack! Here, bring in Coat, Mitz, Socks, little Thunder, and move quick. Do you hear? His voice ring out in imperious command. Little Thunder, growling though he might, no longer delayed, but dived into the storm and in a few moments returned, bearing a bag from which he drew the articles of clothing desired. But I am not going with you, said Cameron firmly. I cannot desert my chief this way. It would give him no end of trouble. Leave me some matches, and if you can spare it a little grub, and I shall do finally. Get these things on, replied Raven, and quit talking. Don't be a fool. We simply can't leave you behind. If you only knew the alternative you'd Cameron glanced at the Indian, the eager fierce look on that hideous face startled him. We will send you back all safe in a few days, continued the traitor with a smile. Come, don't delay. March is the word. I won't go, said Cameron resolutely. I'll stay where I am. All right, you fool, replied Raven with a savage oath. Take your medicine, then. He nodded to the Indian. With a swift gleam of joy in his red rim dies the Indian reached swiftly for Cameron's rifle. Nope, too much noise, said Raven, coolly finishing the packing. A swift flash of a knife in the firelight, and the Indian hurled himself upon the unsuspecting Cameron. But quick as was the attack, Cameron was quicker. Gripping the Indian's uplifted wrist with his left hand, he brought his right with terrific force upon the point of his assailant's chin. The Indian spun round like a top and pitched out into the dark. Neatly done, cried the traitor with a great oath and a laugh. Hold on, little thunder, he continued, as the Indian reappeared, knife in hand. He'll come now. Quiet you beast, would you? He seized by the throat and risked the Indian, who, frothing with rage and snarling like a wild animal, was struggling to reach Cameron again. Down you dog, do you hear me? With a twist of his arms he brought the Indian to his knees, and held him as he might a child. Quite suddenly the Indian grew still. Good, said Raven, now no more of this, pack up. Without a further word or glance of Cameron, little thunder gathered up the stuff and vanished. Now, continued the traitor, you perhaps see that it would be wise for you to come along without further delay. All right, said Cameron, trembling with indignant rage, but remember, you'll pay for this. The traitor smiled kindly upon him. Better get these things on, he said, pointing to the articles of clothing upon the cave floor. The blizzard is gathering force, and we have still some hours to ride. But he continued stepping close to Cameron and looking him in the eyes. There must be no more nonsense. You could see my man is somewhat short and temper, and indeed mine is rather brittle at times. For a single instant a smile curled the firm lips and half-closed, steely eyes of the speaker. And noting the smile and the steely gleam in the gray-brown eyes, Cameron hastily decided that he would no longer resist. Warmed and fed and protected against the blizzard, but with his heart full of indignant wrath, Cameron found himself riding on a wretched coyose before the traitor whose horse could but dimly be seen through the storm, for which from his antics appeared to be possessed of a thousand demons. Steady night-hawk, oh boy! We'll get him moving after a bit, said his master, soothing the kicking-beast. Aha! That was just a shade violent, he revonstrated, as the horse with a scream rushed open mouth dead a blundering pony and sent him scuttling forward in wild terror after the bunch already disappearing down the trail, following little thunder upon his bronco. The blizzard was now in their back, and though its force was thereby greatly lessened, the black night was still thick with whirling snow, and the cold grew more intense every moment. Cameron could hardly see his pony's ears, but loping easily along the levels, scrambling wildly up the hills and slithering recklessly down the slopes, the little brute followed without pause the cavalcade in front. How they kept the trail, Cameron, could not imagine. But with the instinct of their breed, the ponies never faltered. Far before in the black blinding storm could be heard the voice of little thunder, rising and falling in a kind of singing chant, a chant which Cameron was afterwards to know right well. Behind him came the traitor, writing easily his demon-spirited bronco, and singing in full baritone the patriotic ode dear to Britishers the world over. Three cheers for the red, white, and blue. Three cheers for the red, white, and blue. You owe me and gave me forever. Three cheers for the red, white, and blue. As Cameron went pounding along through the howling blizzard, half asleep upon his loping, scrambling, slithering pony, with the kai-yai-hai-ya of little thunder wailing down the storm from before him, and the martial notes of the traitor behind him demanding cheers for Her Majesty's naval and military forces, he seemed to himself to be in the grip of some ghastly nightmare, which, try as he might, he was unable to shake off. The ghastly unreality of the nightmare was dispelled by the sudden halt of the bunch of ponies in front. All off, cried the traitor, writing forward upon his bronco, which apparently quite untired by the long night ride, danced forward through the bunch gaily biting and slashing as he went. All off, get them into the bunkhouse there, little thunder. Come along, Mr. Cameron, we have reached our camp. Take off the bridle and blanket and let your pony go. Cameron did as he was told, and guided by the sound of the traitor's voice made his way to a low log building, which turned out to be the deserted grubhouse of an old lumber camp. Come along, cried the traitor heartily, welcome to Fifty Mile Camp. Its accommodation is somewhat limited, but we can at least offer you a bunk, grub and fire, and these on a night like this are not to be despised. He fumbled around in the dark for a few moments and found and lit a candle stuck in an empty bottle. There, he cried in the tone of genial hospitality and with a kindly smile. Get a fire on here and make yourself at home. Nighthawk demands my attention for the present. Don't look so glum, old boy, he added, slapping Cameron gaily on the back. The worst is over. So, saying, he disappeared into the blizzard, singing at the top of his voice in the cheeriest possible tones. The army and navy forever. Three cheers for the red, white and blue. And they, then Cameron, sorely perplexed as to what manner of man this might be, who one moment could smile with all the malevolence of a fiend, and again could welcome him with all the generous and genial hospitality he might show to a loved and long lost friend. End of Book Three, Chapter Two Book Three, Chapter Three of Corporal Cameron of the Northwest Mounted Police A Tale of the McLeod Trail This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Kay Hand Corporal Cameron of the Northwest Mounted Police Book Three, Chapter Three, The Stones The icy cold woke Cameron as the gray light came in through the dirty windows and the cracks between the logs of the grubhouse. Already, little thunder was awake and busy with the fire in the cracked and rusty stove. Cameron lay still and watched. Silently, swiftly, the Indian moved about his work till the fire began to roar and the pot of snow on the top began to melt. Then the trader woke. With a single movement he was out upon the floor. All hands awake, he shouted. Aha, Mr. Cameron. Good sleep, eh? Slept like a bear myself. Now grub and off. Still blowing, eh? Well, so much the better. There is a spot thirty miles on where we will be snug enough. How's breakfast, little thunder? This is our only chance today, so don't spare the grub. Cameron made but slight reply. He was stiff and sore with the cold and the long ride of the day before. This, however, he minded but little. If he could only guess what lay before him. He was torn between anxiety and indignation. He could hardly make himself believe that he was alive and in his waking senses. Twenty-four hours ago he was breakfasting with MacGyver and his gang in the camp by the bow. Now he was twenty or thirty miles away in the heart of the mountains and practically a prisoner in the hands of as bloodthirsty a looking Indian as he had ever seen, and a man who remained to him an inexplicable mystery. Who and what was this man? He scanned his face in the growing light. Strength, daring, alertness, yes, and kindness he read in the handsome brown lean face of the stranger lit by its gray brown hazel eyes and set off with brown wavy hair, which the absence of a cap now for the first time revealed. He looks all right, Cameron said to himself, and yet when he recalled the smile that had curled these thin lips and half closed these hazel eyes in the cave the night before, and when he thought of that murderous attack of his Indian companion, he found it difficult wholly to trust the man who was at once his rescuer and his captor. In the days of the early 80s there were weird stories floating about through the western country of outlaw Indian traders whose chief stock for barter was a concoction which passed for whiskey, but the ingredients of which were principally high wines and tobacco juice, with a little molasses to sweeten it and a touch of bluestone to give it bite. Men of reckless daring were these traders resourceful and relentless. For a bottle of their hellfire fluid they would buy a buffalo hide, a pack of beaver skins, or a kaiyus from an Indian without hesitation or remolars. With a keg or two of their deadly brew they would approach a tribe and strip it bare of a year's catch of furs. In the fierce fights that often followed the Indian, poorly armed and half dead with the poison he had drunk, would come off second best and many a wretched native was left to burn and blister upon the planes or among the coolies at the foothills to mark the trail of the whiskey runners. In British territory all this style of barter was of course unlawful. The giving, selling or trading of any sort of intoxicants to the Indians was absolutely prohibitive, but it was a land of vast and mighty spaces and everywhere were hiding places where armies could be safely disposed and therefore there was small chance for the enforcement of the laws of the Dominion. There was little risk to the whiskey runners and indeed however great the risk the immense profits of their trade would have made them willing to take it. Hence all through the western planes the whiskey runners had their way to the degradation and demoralization of the unhappy natives and to the rapid decimation of their numbers. Horse thieves too and cattle rustlers operating on both sides of the line added to the general confusion and lawlessness that prevailed and rendered the lives and property of the few pioneer settlers insecure. It was to deal with this situation that the Dominion government organized and dispatched the northwest mounted police to western Canada. Immediately upon the advent of this famous core matters began to improve. The open ravages of the whiskey runners ceased and these daring outlaws were forced to carry on their Finnish business by midnight marches and through the secret trails and coolies of the foothills. The profits of the trade however were still great enough to tempt the more reckless and daring of these men. Cattle rustling and horse stealing still continued but on a much smaller scale. To the whole country the advent of the police proved an incalculable blessing but to the Indian tribes especially was this the case. The natives soon learned to regard the police officers as their friends. In them they found protection from the unscrupulous traders who had hitherto cheated them without mercy or conscience as well as from the whiskey runners through whose devilish activities their people had suffered irreparable loss. The administration of the law by the officers of the police with firm and patient justice put an end also to the frequent and bloody wars that had prevailed previously between the various tribes till by these wild and savage people the red coat came to be regarded with mingled awe and confidence a terror to evil doers and a protection to those that did well. To which class did this man belong? This came when was utterly unable to decide. With this problem vexing his mind he ate his breakfast in almost complete silence making only monosyllabic replies to the traders cheerful attempts at conversation. Suddenly with disconcerting accuracy the traders seemed to read his mind. Now Mr. Cameron he said pulling out his pipe we will have a smoke and a chat fill up. He passed Cameron his little bag of tobacco. Last night things were somewhat strained he continued. Frankly I confess I took you at first for a whiskey runner and a horse thief and having suffered from these gentlemen considerably I was taking no chances. Why force me to go with you then? asked Cameron angrily. Why for you're good there is less danger both to you and to me with you under my eye replied the trader with a smile. Yet your man would have murdered me. Well you see Little Thunder is one of the blood tribe and rather swift with his knife at times I confess. Besides his family has suffered at the hands of the whiskey runners he is a chief and he owes it to these devils that he is out of a job just now. You may imagine he is somewhat touchy on the point of whiskey traders. It was you set him on me said Cameron still wrathful. No no said the trader laughing quietly. That was merely to startle you out of your pardon me unreasonable obstinacy. You must believe me it was the only thing possible that you should accompany us for if you were a whiskey runner then it was better for us that you should be under guard and if you were a surveyor it was better for you that you should be in our care. Why man this storm may go for three days and you would be stiff long before anyone could find you. No no I confess our measures may have seemed somewhat abrupt but believe me they were necessary and in a day or two you will acknowledge that I am in the right of it. Meantime let's trust each other and there is my hand on it Cameron. There was no resisting the frank smile the open manner of the man and Cameron took the offered hand with a lighter heart than he had known for the last 12 hours. Now then that settled cried the trader springing to his feet. Cameron you can pack this stuff together while literal thunder and I dig out our bunch of horses they will be half frozen and it will be hard to knock any life into them. It was half an hour before Cameron had his packs ready and there being no sign of the trader he put on his heavy coat mitts and cap and fought his way through the blizzard which was still raging in full force to the bunk house a log building about 30 feet long and half as wide in which were huddled the horses and ponies to the number of about 20. Eight of the ponies carried pack saddles and so busy were Raven and the Indian with the somewhat delicate operation of assembling the packs that he was close upon them before they were aware. Boxes and bags were strewn about in orderly disorder and on one side were several small kegs. As Cameron drew near the Indian who was the first to notice him gave a grunt. What the blank blank are you doing here? cried Raven with a string of oaths flinging a buffalo robe over the kegs. My word just startled me he added with a short laugh. I haven't got used to you yet. All right little thunder get these boxes together bring that gray kaius here Cameron the one with the rope on near the door. This was easier said than done for the half broken brute snorted and plunged till Cameron taking a turn of the rope around his nose forced him up through the trembling crowding bunch. Good said the trader you are all right. You didn't learn to rope a kaius in Edinburgh I guess here's his saddle cinch it on. While Cameron was engaged in carrying out these orders little thunder in the trader were busy roping boxes and kegs into pack loads with a skill and dexterity that could only be the result of long practice. Now then Cameron we'll load some of this molasses on your pony. So saying Raven picked up one of the kegs. Hello little thunder this kegs leaking it's lost the plug as I'm a sinner. Sure enough from a small auger hole golden syrup was streaming over the edge of the keg. I am certain I put that plug in yesterday said Raven must have been knocked out last night. Fortunately it stood right end up or we should have lost the whole keg. While he was speaking he was shaping a small stick into a small plug which he drove tight into the keg. That will fix it he said. Now then put these boxes on the other side that will do. Take your pony toward the door and tie him there. Little thunder and I will load the rest and bring them up. In a very short time all the remaining goods were packed in neat loads and lashed upon the pack ponies in such a careful manner that neither box nor keg could be seen outside the cover of blankets and buffalo skins. Now then cried Raven boots and saddles. We will give you a better mount today. He continued selecting a stout build solar old pony. There you are and a dandy he is sure-footed as a goat and easy as a cradle. Now then Nighthawk we shall just clear out this bunch. As he spoke he whipped the blanket off his horse. Cameron could not forebear an exclamation of wonder and admiration as his eyes fell upon Raven's horse. And not without reason for Nighthawk was as near perfection as anything in horse flesh of his size could be. His cold black satin skin his fine flat legs small delicate head sloping hips round and well ribbed barrel all showing his breed. Rolling up the blanket Raven strapped it to his saddle and flinging himself astride his horse gave a yell that galvanized the wretched shivering dispirited bunch into immediate life and activity. Get out the packers there the little thunder hurry up don't be all day Cameron fall behind with me. Little thunder seized the leading line of the first packer left to stride his own pony and pushed out into the storm. But the rest of the animals held back and refused to face the blizzard. The traditions of the kaius are unheroic in the matter of blizzards and are all in favor of turning tail to every storm that blows. But Nighthawk soon overcame their reluctance whether traditional or otherwise. With a fury nothing less than demonical he fell upon the animals next to him and inspired them with such terror that plunging forward they carried the bunch crowding through the door. It was no small achievement to turn some 20 shivering bulky stubborn kaiuses and broncos out of their shelter and swing them through the mazes of the old lumber camp into the trail again. But with little thunder breaking the trail enchanting his encouraging refrain in front and the traitor and his demonic stallion dynamically bringing up the rear this achievement was affected without the straying of a single animal. Raven was in great spirits singing shouting and occasionally sending Nighthawk open mouthed in a fierce charge upon the laggards hustling the long straggling line onwards through the whirling drifts without pause or falter. Occasionally he dropped back beside Cameron who brought up the rear bringing a word of encouragement or approval. How do they ever keep the trail? Asked Cameron on one of these occasions. Little Thunder does the trick. He is the greatest tracker in this country unless it is his kaius which has a nose like a bloodhound and will keep the trail through three feet of snow. The rest of the bunch follow. They are afraid to do anything else in a blizzard like this. So hour after hour upward along mountain sides for by this time they were far into the Rockies and down again through thick standing forests in the valleys across ravines and roaring torrents which the warm weather of the previous days had released from the glaciers and over benches of open country where the grass lay buried deep beneath the snow they pounded along. The clouds of snow ever whirling about Cameron's head and in front of his eyes hid the distant landscape and engulfed the head of the cavalcade before him. Without initiative and without volition but in a dreamy haze he sat his pony to which he entrusted his life and fortune and waited for the will of his mysterious companion to develop. About midday Nighthawk danced back out of the storm ahead and dropped in beside Cameron's pony. A chinnock come in said Raven getting warmer don't you notice? No I didn't notice but now that you call attention to it I do feel a little more comfortable replied Cameron. Sure thing rain in an hour an hour in six perhaps in less than an hour replied Raven the chinnock will be here we're riding into it it blows down through the past before us and it will lick up this snow in no time you'll see the grass all about you before three hours are passed the event proved the truth of Raven's prediction with incredible rapidity the temperature continued to rise in half an hour Cameron discarded his mitts and unbuttoned his skin lined jacket the wind dropped to a gentle breeze swinging more and more into the southwest and before the hour was gone the sun was shining fitfully again and the snow had changed into a drizzling rain the extraordinary suddenness of these atmospheric changes only increased the sense of phantasmic unreality with which Cameron had been struggling during the past 36 hours as the afternoon war on the air became sensibly warmer the moisture rose in steaming clouds from the mountain sides the snow ran everywhere and girdling rivulets the rivulets became streams the streams rivers and the mountain torrents which they had easily forwarded earlier in the day threatened to sweep them away the traitors spirits appeared to rise with the temperature he was in a high glee it was as if he had escaped some imminent peril we will make it all right he shouted to Little Thunder as they paused for a few moments in a grassy glade can we make the forks before dark Little Thunder's grunt might mean anything but to this traitor it expressed doubt on then he shouted we must make these brutes get a move on they'll feed when we camp so saying he hurled his horse upon the straggling bunch of ponies that were eagerly snatching mouthfuls of grass from which the chinook had already melted the snow mercilessly and savagely the traitor with whip and voice and charging stallion hustled the wretched animals into the trail once more and through the long afternoon with unceasing and brutal ferocity he belabored the faltering stumbling half-starved creatures till from sheer exhaustion they were like to fall upon the trail it was a weary business and disgusting but the demon spirit of Nighthawk seemed to have passed into his master and with an insistence that knew no mercy together they battered that wretched bunch up and down the long slopes till at length the merciful night fell upon the straggling stumbling cavalcade and made a rapid pace impossible at the head of a long slope Little Thunder came to an abrupt halt rode to the rear and grunted something to his chief what? cried Raven in a startled voice stonies, where? Little Thunder pointed did they see you? this insult Little Thunder disdained to notice good replied Raven stay here Cameron we will take a look at them in a very few minutes he returned an eager tone in his voice an eager gleam in his eyes stonies he exclaimed and a big camp on their way back from their winters trapping Old McDougal himself in charge I think do you know him? I have heard of him, said Cameron and his tone indicated his reverence for the aged pioneer methodist missionary who had accomplished such marvels during his long years of service with his Indian flock and had gained such a wonderful control over them yes he is all right replied Raven entering his tone he is a shrewd old boy though looks mighty close after the trading end well we will perhaps do a little trade ourselves but we won't disturb the old man he continued as if to himself come and take a look at them Little Thunder had halted at a spot where the trail forked one part led to the right down the long slope of the mountain the other to the left gradually climbing toward the top the stonies had come by the right hand trail and were now camped off the trail on a little sheltered bench further down the side of the mountain and surrounded by a scattering group of tall pines through the misty night their camp fires burned cheerily lighting up their lodges around the fires could be seen groups of men squatted on the ground and here and there among the lodges the squaws were busy evidently preparing the evening meal at one side of the camp could be distinguished a number of tethered ponies and near them others quietly grazing but though the camp lay only a few hundred yards away and on a lower level not a sound came up from it to Cameron's ears except the occasional bark of a dog the Indians are a silent people and move noiselessly through nature's solitudes as if in reverence for her sacred mysteries we won't disturb them said Raven in a low tone will slip past quietly they come from Morleyville don't they inquired Cameron yes why not visit the camp exclaimed Cameron eagerly I'm sure Mr. McDougal would be glad to see us and why could not I go back with him my camp is right on the trail to Morleyville Raven stood silent evidently perplexed well he replied hesitatingly we shall see later meanwhile let's get into camp ourselves and no noise please his voice was low and stern silently and as swiftly as was consistent with silence little thunder led his band of packed horses along the upper trail the trader and Cameron bringing up the rear with the other ponies for about half a mile they proceeded in this direction then turning sharply to the right they cut across through the straggling woods and so came upon the lower trail beyond the encampment of the stonies and well out of sight of it we camp here said Raven briefly but remember no noise what about visiting their camp inquired Cameron there is no immediate hurry he spoke a few words to little thunder in indian little thunder thinks they may be black feet we can't be too careful now let's get grub Cameron made no reply the traders hesitating manner awakened all his former suspicions he was firmly convinced the Indians were stonies and he resolved that come what might he would make his escape to their camp without unloading their packs they built their fire upon a large flat rock and there crouching about it for the mists were chilly they had their supper in undertones Raven and little thunder conversed in the indian speech the gay careless air of the trader had given place to one of keen purposeful determination there was evidently serious business on foot immediately after supper little thunder vanished into the mist we may as well make ourselves comfortable said Raven pulling a couple of buffalo skins from a pack and giving one to Cameron little thunder has gone to reconnoiter he threw some sticks upon the fire better go to sleep he suggested we shall probably visit the camp in the morning if they should prove to be stonies Cameron made no reply but lying down upon his buffalo skin pretended to sleep though with the firm resolve to keep awake but he had passed through an exhausting day and before many minutes had passed he fell into a dose from this he awoke with a start his ears filled with the sound of singing beyond the fire Raven lay upon his face apparently sound asleep the singing came from the direction of the Indian camp noiselessly he rose and stole up the trail to a point from which the camp was plainly visible a wonderful scene lay before his eyes a great fire burned in the center of the camp and round the fire the whole band of Indians was gathered with their squads in the background at the center of the circle stood a tall man with a venerable beard apparently reading after he had read the sound of singing once more rose upon the night air stonies all right said Cameron exultantly to himself and in evening prayers too by Joe he remembered hearing MacGyver tell how the stonies never went on a hunting expedition without their hymn books and never closed a day without their evening worship the voices were high pitched and thin but from that distance they floated up soft and sweet he could clearly distinguish the music of the old Methodist hymn the words of which were quite familiar to him there is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel's veins and sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains over and over again with strange wild cadences of their own invention the worshippers wailed forth the refrain lose all their guilty stains then all kneeling they went to prayer overall the misty moon struggling through the broken clouds cast a pale and ghostly light it was to Cameron with his old world religious conventions and traditions a weirdly fascinating but intensely impressive scene afar beyond the valley appeared in dim outline the great mountains with their heads thrust up into the sky mirror at their bases gathered the pines at first in solid gluey masses then as they approached in straggling groups and at last singly like tall sentinels on guard on the grassy glade surrounded by the sentinel pines the circle of dusky worshippers kneeling about their campfire lifted their faces heavenward and their hearts godward in prayer and as upon those dusky faces the firelight fell in fitful gleams so upon their hearts dark with the superstitions of a hundred generations there fell the gleams of the torch held high by the hands of their dauntless ambassador of the blessed gospel of the grace of god with mingled feelings of reverence and of pity Cameron stood gazing down upon this scene resolved more than ever to attach himself to this camp whose days closed with evening prayer impressive scene said a mocking voice in his ear Cameron started a sudden feeling of repulsion seized him yes he said gravely an impressive scene in my eyes at least and I should not wonder if in the eyes of god as well who knows said raving roughly as they both turned back to the fire end of book three chapter three book three chapter four of corporal Cameron of the northwest mounted police a tale of the McLeod trail this is a labor box recording all labor box recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit laborbox.org corporal Cameron of the northwest mounted police book three chapter four the dull red stain the minutes passed slowly the scene in the camp of the stonies that he had just witnessed drove all sleep from Cameron he was firmly resolved that at the first opportunity he would make his break for liberty for he was now fully aware that though not confessively he was nonetheless really a prisoner as he lay intently thinking forming and discarding plans of escape two Indians followed by little thunder walked quietly within the circle of the firelight and with a nod and a grunt towards Raven sat down by the fire Raven passed his tobacco bag which without a word they accepted and filling their pipes they gravely began to smoke white cloud grunted little thunder waving his hand to the first Indian big chief him pointing to the second Indian white cloud brother my brothers had good hunting this year said Raven the Indians grunted for reply your packs are heavy another grunt made answer we have much goods continued Raven but the time is short come and see Raven led them out into the dark towards the pack horse little thunder remaining by the fire from the darkness Cameron could hear Raven's voice in low tones and the Indians guttural replies mingled with unusual laughter when they returned the change in their appearance was plainly visible their eyes were gleaming with an unnatural excitement their grave and dignified demeanor had given place to an eager almost childish excitement Cameron did not need the whiff that came to him from their breath to explain the cause of this sudden change the signs were to him only too familiar my brothers will need to hurry said Raven we move when the moon is high good replied white cloud go quick he waved his hand toward the dark come he brought it back again heap quick without further word they vanished silent as the shadows that swallowed them up now then Cameron we have big business on foot up and give us a hand little thunder take the bunch down the trail a couple of miles and come back selecting one of the pack ponies he tied it to a pine tree and the others he hurried off with little thunder down the trail going to do some trading are you inquired Cameron guess if the price is right though I'm not too keen replied Raven throwing himself down beside the fire what are you after furs yes furs mostly anything they have to offer what do you give in exchange Raven threw him a sharp glance but Cameron's face was turned toward the fire oh various articles wearing apparel tobacco finery molasses too they are very fond of molasses molasses echoed Cameron with a touch of scorn it was not molasses they had tonight why did you give them whiskey he asked boldly Raven started his eyes narrowed to two piercing points why that's my business my friend I keep a flask to treat my guests occasionally have you any objection it is against the law I understand and mighty bad for the Indians against the law echoed Raven and child like surprise you don't tell me so the mounted police declare said Cameron turning his eyes upon Raven's face the mounted police exclaimed Raven pouring forth a flood of oaths that for the mounted police he said snapping his fingers but replied Cameron I understood you very especially to object to the operations of the whiskey runners whiskey runners who's speaking of whiskey runners I'm talking of the approved method of treating our friends in this country and if the police should interfere between me and my friends they would be carrying things a little too far but all the same he continued hastily checking himself the police are all right they put down a lot of lawlessness in this country but I may as well say to you here Mr. Cameron he continued that there are certain things it is best not to see or having seen to speedily forget as he spoke these words his eyes narrowed again to two great points that seem to bore right through to Cameron's brain this man is a very devil thought Cameron to himself I was a fool not to see it before but to the trader he said there are some things I would rather not see and some things I cannot forget before another hour had passed the stonies reappeared this time on ponies the trader made no move to meet them he said quietly smoking by the fire silently the Indians approached the fire and threw down a pack of furs huh said white cloud good for good he opened his pack and spread out upon the rock with impressive deliberation its contents and good they were even to Cameron's uncultured eye wolf skins and bear cinnamon and black beaver fox and mink as well as some magnificent specimens of mountain goat and sheep good good beak fine heap good white cloud continued to exclaim as he displayed his collection Raven turned them over carelessly feeling the furs examining and weighing the pelts then going to the pack horse he returned and spread out upon the rock beside the furs the goods which he proposed to offer in exchange and a pitiful display it was gaudy calicoes and flimsy flannels the brilliance of whose color was only equaled by the shoddiness of the material cheap domestic blankets half wool half cotton prepared especially for the Indian trade these with beads and buttons trinkets whole strings of brass rings rolls of tobacco bags of shot and powder pot metal knives and other articles all bearing the stamp of glittering fraud constituted his stock for barter the Indians made strenuous efforts to maintain an air of dignified indifference but the glitter in their eyes betrayed their eakerness white cloud picked up a goat's skin heavy with its deep silky fur and with its rich splendor covered over the glittering mass of Raven's cheap and tawdry stuff good trade said white cloud him pointing to the skin and turning it back him laying his hand upon the goods beneath Raven smiled carelessly pulled out a flask from his pocket took a drink and passed it to the others desperately struggling to suppress his eakerness and to maintain his dignified bearing white cloud seized the flask and drinking long and deep passed it to his brother have a drink Cameron said Raven as he received his flask again no said Cameron shortly and I would suggest to your friends that they complete the trade before they drink much more my friend here says this is no good said Raven to the Indians tapping the flask with his finger he says no more drink white cloud shot a keen inquiring glance at Cameron but he may no reply other than to stretch out his hand for Raven's flask again before many minutes the efficacy of Raven's methods of barter began to be apparent the Indians lost their grave and dignified demeanor they became curious eager gullulous and demonstrative with childish glee they began examining more closely Raven's supply of goods trying on the rings draping themselves in the gaudy calicoes and flannels at length Raven rolled up his articles of barter and set them upon one side how much he said white cloud selected the goat skin laid upon it some half dozen beaver and mink and a couple of foxes and rolling them up in a pile laid them beside Raven's bundle the trader smiled and shook his head no good no good so saying he took from his pack another flask and laid it upon his pile instantly the Indian increased his pile by a bear skin a gray wolf and a mountain goat then without waiting for Raven's words he reached for the flask no not yet said Raven quietly laying his hand down upon the flask the Indian with gleaming eyes threw on the pile some additional skins good said Raven surrendering the flask swiftly the Indian caught it up and seizing the cork in his teeth bit it off close to the neck of the flask snatching his knife from his pocket with almost frantic energy he proceeded to dig out the embedded cork here said Raven taking the flask from him let me have it from his pocket he took a knife containing a corkscrew and with this he drew the cork and handed the flask back to the Indian with shameless beastial haste the Indian placed the bottle to his lips and after a long pull passed it to his waiting brother at this point Raven rose as if to close the negotiations and took out his own flask for a final drink but found it empty aha he exclaimed turning the empty flask upside down at once the Indian passed him his flask Raven however waved him aside and going to his pack drew out a tin oil can which would contain about a gallon from this with great deliberation he filled his flask huh exclaimed the Indian pointing to the can how much Raven shook his head no sell for me he answered tapping himself on the breast how much said the Indian fiercely still Raven declined to sell swiftly the Indian gathered up the remaining half of his pack of furs and throwing them savagely at Raven's feet seized the can still Raven refused to let it go at this point the soft padding of a loping pony was heard coming up the trail and in a few minutes little thunder silently took his place in the circle about the fire Cameron's heart sank within him for now it seemed as if his chance of escape had slipped from him Raven spoke a few rapid words to little thunder who entered into conversation with the stonies at length white cloud drew from his coat a black fox skin and spite of himself Raven uttered a slight exclamation it was indeed a superb pelt with savage hate in every line of his face and in every movement of his body the Indian flying the skin upon the pile of furs and without a by your leave seized the can and passed it to his brother at this point Raven with a sudden display of reckless generosity placed his own flask upon the Indians pile of goods asked them if they want molasses said Raven to little thunder no grunted the Indian contemptuously preparing to depart asked them little thunder immediately as little thunder began to speak the contemptuous attitude of the stonies gave place to one of keen interest and desire after some further talk little thunder went to the pack pony returned bearing a small keg and set it on the rock beside Raven's pile of furs hastily the stonies consulted together white cloud apparently reluctant the brother recklessly eager to close the deal finally with a gesture white cloud put an end to the conversation stepped out hastily into the dark and returned leading his pony into the light cutting asunder the lashings with his knife he released a bundle of furs and threw it down at Raven's feet same thing good he said but Raven would not look at the bundle and proceeded to pack up the spoils of his barter earnestly the stonies appealed to little thunder but in vain angrily they remonstrated but still without result at length little thunder pointed to the pony and without hesitation white cloud placed the bridal rain in his hands Cameron could contain himself no longer suddenly rising from his place he strode to the side of the Indians and cried don't do it don't be such fools this is no good he said kicking the cake what would Mr. McDougal say come I go with you take back these furs he stepped forward to seize the second pack swiftly little thunder leaped before him knife in hand and crouched to spring the stonies had no doubt as to his meaning their hearts were filled with black rage against the unscrupulous traitor but their insane thirst for the fire water swept from their minds every other consideration but that of determination to gratify this mad lust unconsciously they ranged themselves beside Cameron their hands going to their belts quietly raven spoke a few rapid words to little thunder who slowly putting up his knife made a brief but vigorous harangue to the stonies the result of which was seen in the doubtful glances which they cast upon Cameron from time to time come on cried Cameron again laying his hand upon the nearest Indian let's go to your camp take your furs he is a thief a robber a bad man all that sweeping his hand towards ravens goods no good this kicking the cake bad kill you these words they could not entirely understand but his gestures were sufficiently eloquent and significant there was an ugly gleam in ravens eyes and an ugly curl to his thin lips but he only smiled come he said waving his hand toward the furs take them away tell them we don't want to trade little thunder he pulled out his flask slowly took a drink and passed it to little thunder who greedily followed his example tell them we don't want to trade at all insisted raven little thunder volubily explained the trader's wishes goodbye said raven offering his hand to white cloud good friends he added once more passing him his flask don't said Cameron laying his hand again upon the Indian's arm for a single instant white cloud paused huh grunted little thunder and contempt big chief scared quickly the stony shook off Cameron's hand seized the flask and putting it to his lips drained it dry come said Cameron to the other stony come with me raven uttered a warning word to little thunder the Indian stood for some moments uncertain their heads bowed upon their breasts then white cloud throwing back his head and looking Cameron full in the face said good man good man me no go then I go alone cried Cameron springing off into the darkness as he turned his foot caught the pile of wood brought for the fire he tripped and stumbled almost to the ground before he could recover himself little thunder swift as a wildcat leaped upon his back with his ever ready knife in his upraised hand but before he could strike Cameron had turned himself and throwing the Indian off had struggled to his feet hold there cried raven with a terrible oath flinging himself upon the struggling pair a moment or two the stonies hesitated then they too seized Cameron and between them all they bore him fighting to the ground keep back keep back cried raven in a terrible voice to little thunder who knife in hand was dancing round seeking an opportunity to strike will you lie still or shall I knock your head in said raven to Cameron through his clenched teeth with one hand on his throat and the other poisoning a revolver over his head Cameron gave up the struggle speak and quick cried raven his face working with passion his voice thick and husky his breath coming in quick gasps from the fury that possessed him all right said Cameron let me up you have beaten me this time raven spring to his feet let him up he said now then Cameron give me your word you won't try to escape no I will not I'll see you hanged first said Cameron raven deliberately drew his pistol and said slowly I have saved your life twice already but the time has passed for any more trifling now you've got to take it at this little thunder spoke a word pointing toward the camp of the stonies raven hesitated then with an oath he strode toward Cameron and thrusting his pistol in his face set in tones of cold and concentrated rage listen to me you fool your life is hanging by a hair trigger that goes off with a feather touch I give you one more chance move hand or foot and the bullet in this gun will pass neatly through your eye so help me god almighty he spoke to little thunder still keeping Cameron covered with his gun the indian slipped quietly behind Cameron and swiftly threw a line over his shoulders and drawing it tight bound his arms to his side again and again he repeated this operation till Cameron stood swathed in the coils of the rope like a mummy inwardly raging not so much at his captor but at himself in a stupid bungling of his break for liberty his helpless and absurd appearance seemed to restore raven's good humor now then he said turning to the stonies and resuming his careless air we will finish our little business sit down Mr Cameron he continued with a pleasant smile it may be less dignified but it is much more comfortable once more he took out his flask and passed it round forgetting to take it back from his indian visitors who continued to drink from it in turn listen he said I give you all you see here for your furs and a pony to pack them that is my last word quick yes or no tell them no more trifling little thunder the moon is high we start in 10 minutes there was no further haggling the indian seemed to recognize that the time for that was passed after a brief consultation they grunted their acceptance and proceeded to pack up their goods but with no good will more vividly than any in the company they realized the immensity of the fraud that was being perpetrated upon them they were being robbed of their whole winter's kill and that of some of their friends as well but they were helpless in the grip of their mad passion for the trader's firewater disgusted with themselves and filled with black rage against the man who had so pitilessly stripped them bare of the profits of a year's toil and privation how gladly would they have put their knives into his back but they knew his sort by only two bitter experience and they knew that at his hands they need expect no pity here cried raven observing their black looks a present for my brothers he handed them each a roll of tobacco and a present for their squaws adding a scarlet blanket apiece to their pack without a word of thanks they took the gifts and loading their stuff upon their remaining pony disappeared down the trail now little thunder let's get out of this for once their old man finds out he will be hotfoot on our trail with furious haste they fell to their packing Cameron stood aghast at the amazing swiftness and dexterity with which the packs were roped and loaded when all was complete the trader turned to Cameron in gay good humor now Mr Cameron will you go passenger or freight Cameron made no reply in other words shall we pack you on your pony or will you ride like a gentle man giving me your word not to attempt to escape time presses so answer quick give me 24 hours give me your word for 24 hours after which you can go when you like I agree said Cameron shortly cut him loose little thunder little thunder hesitated quick you fool cut him loose I know a gentleman when I see him he is tied tighter than with ropes it is a great pity he continued addressing Cameron in a pleasant conversational tone as they rode down the trail together that you should have made an ass of yourself for those brutes ba what odds old McDougal or someone else would get their stuff sooner or later why not I come cheer up you are jolly well out of it for God knows you may live to look death in the face many a time but never while you live will you be so near touching the old sport as you were a few minutes ago why I have interfered to save you these three times blessed if I know many a man's bones have been picked by the coyotes in these hills for a fraction of the provocation you have given me not to speak of little thunder who is properly thirsty for your blood but take advice from me here he leaned over towards Cameron and touched him on the shoulder while his voice took a sterner tone don't venture on any further liberties with him suddenly Cameron's rage blazed forth now perhaps you will listen to me he said in a voice thrilling with passion first of all keep your hands off me as for your comrade and partner in crime I fear him no more than I would a dog and like a dog I shall treat him if he dares to attack me again as for you you are a coward and a cad you have me at a disadvantage but put down your guns and fight me on equal terms and I will make you beg for your life there was a gleam of amused admiration in Raven's eyes by Jove it would be a pretty fight I do believe and one I should greatly enjoy at present however time is pressing and therefore that pleasure we must postpone meantime I promise you that when it comes it will be on equal terms I ask no more said Cameron there was no further conversation for Raven appeared intent on putting as large a space as possible between himself and the camp of the stonies the discovery of the fraud he knew would be inevitable and he knew too that George McDougal was not the man to allow his flock to be fleeced with impunity so before the gray light of morning began to steal over the mountain tops Raven with his bunch of ponies and his loot was many miles forward on his journey but the endurance even of Broncos and Causes has its limit and their desperate condition from hunger and fatigue rendered food and rest imperative the sun was fully up when Raven ordered a halt and in a sunny valley deep with grass unsettling the wearied animals he turned them loose to feed and rest apparently careless of danger and highly contented with their night's achievement he and his Indian partner abandoned themselves to sleep Cameron too though his indignation and chagrin prevented sleep for a time was finally forced to yield to the genial influences of the warm sun and the languid airs of the spring day and firmly resolving to keep awake he fell into dreamless slumber the sun was riding high noon when he was awakened by a hand upon his arm it was Raven hush he said not a word mount and quick looking about Cameron observed that the pack horses were ready loaded and Raven standing by his Bronco ready to mount little thunder was nowhere to be seen what's up said Cameron for answer Raven pointed out the long sloping trail down which they had come their three horsemen could be seen riding hard but still distant more than half a mile saw them three miles away luckily enough said Raven where's little thunder inquired Cameron oh rounding up the bunch answered Raven carelessly waving his hand toward the valley those men are coming some he added swinging into his saddle as he spoke a rifle shot shattered the stillness of the valley the first of the riders threw up his hands clutched wildly at the vacant air and pitched headlong out of the saddle good god what's that gasped Cameron the other two wheeled in their course before they could turn a second shot rang out and another of the riders fell upon his horse's neck clung there for a moment then gently slid to the ground the third throwing himself over the side of his pony rode back for dear life a third and a fourth shot were heard but the fleeing rider escaped unhurt what does that mean again asked Cameron weak and sick with horror mount yelled Raven with a terrible oath and flourishing a revolver in his hand mount quick his face was pale his eyes burned with a fierce glare while his voice rang with the blast of a bugle lead those pack horses down that trail he yelled thrusting the line into Cameron's hand quick I tell you crack crack twice a bullet sank savagely past Cameron's ears quicker shouted Raven circling round the bunch of ponies with wild cries and oaths like a man gone mad again and again the revolver spat wickedly in here and there a pony plunged recklessly forward nicked in the ear by one of those venomous singing pellets helpless to defend himself and expecting every moment to feel the sting of a bullet somewhere in his body Cameron hurried his pony with all his might down the trail dragging the pack animals after him in huddled confusion the terrified brutes followed after him in a mad rush for hard upon their rear like a beast devil possessed nighthawk pressed biting kicking squealing to the accompaniment of his riders oaths and yells and pistol shots down the long sloping trail to the very end of the valley the mad rush continued there the ascent checked the fury of the speed and forced a quieter pace but through the afternoon there was no weakening of the pressure from the rear till the evening shadows and the frequent falling of the worn out beasts forced a slackening of the pace and finally a halt sick with horror and loathing Cameron dismounted and unsettled his Bronco he had hardly finished this operation when little thunder wrote up upon a strange pony leading a beautiful white Bronco behind Cameron could not repress an exclamation of disgust as the Indian drew near him beautiful beast that said Raven carelessly pointing to the white pony Cameron turned his eyes upon the pony and stood transfixed with horror my god he exclaimed look at that across the beautiful white shoulders and reaching down clear to the fetlock there ran a broad stain dull red and horrible then through his teeth hard clenched together these words came forth someday by God's help I shall wipe out that stain the trader shrugged his shoulders carelessly but made no reply end of book 3 chapter 4 book 3 chapter 5 of Corporal Cameron of the Northwest Mounted Police a tale of the cloud trail this is a labor box recording all labor box recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit laborbox.org Corporal Cameron of the Northwest Mounted Police book 3 chapter 5 Sergeant Crisp the horror of the day followed Cameron through the night and awoke with him next morning every time his eyes found the Indian his teeth came together in a grinding rage as he repeated his vow someday I shall bring you to justice so help me God against Raven somehow he could not maintain the same heat of rage that he was a party to the murder of the stonies there was little reason to doubt but as all next day they lay in the sunny glade resting the ponies or went loping easily along the winding trails making ever towards the southwest the trader's cheerful face his endless tales and his invincible good humor stole from Cameron's heart in spite of his firm resolve the fierceness of his wrath but the resolve was nonetheless resolute that one day he would bring this man to justice as they journeyed on the woods became more open and the trees larger midday found them resting by a little lake from which a stream flowed into the upper reaches of the Columbia River we shall make the crow's nest trail by tomorrow night said Raven where we shall part not to your very great sorrow I fancy either the evening before Cameron would have said no but to my great joy and it vexed him that he could not bring himself to say so today with any great show of sincerity there was a charm about this man that he could not resist and yet continued Raven allowing his eyes to rest dreamily upon the lake in other circumstances I might have found in you an excellent friend and a most rare and valuable find that is that it is agreed Cameron thinking of his old football captain but one cannot make friends with a it is an ugly word I know said Raven but after all what is a bunch of furs more or less to those Indians furs exclaimed Cameron in horror what are the lives of these men oh replied Raven carelessly these Indians are always getting killed one way or another it is all in the day's work with them they pick each other off without query or qualm besides little thunder has a grudge of very old standing against the stonies whom he heartily despises and he doubtless enjoys considerable satisfaction from the thought that he has partially paid it it will be his turn next like is not for they won't let this thing sleep or perhaps mine he added after a pause the man is doubtless on the trail at this present minute who will finally get me then why expose yourself to such a fate said Cameron surely in this country a man can live an honest life and prosper honest life I doubt it what is an honest life does any Indian trader lead an honest life do the Hudson Bay traders or IG bakers people or any of them do the honest thing by the Indian they trade with in the long run it is a question of the police what escapes the police is honest the crime after all isn't getting caught oh that is too old said Cameron you know you are talking rotten quite right it is rotten assented Raven the whole business is rotten vanity of vanities say it's the preacher oh I know the book you see I was not born a a an outlaw the gray brown eyes had in them a wistful look bah he exclaimed springing to his feet and shaking himself the sight of your edenberg face and the sound of your edenberg speech and your old country ways and manners have got on my recollection works and I believe that accounts for you being alive today old man he whistled to his horse night hot came trotting and winning to him I have one friend in the world old boy he said throwing his arm over the black glossy neck and searching his pocket for a biscuit and even you he added bitterly I fear do not love me for not saddling his horse he mounted and calling little thunder to him said take the bunch on as far as the big canyon and wait there for me I am going back a bit it is better to be sure than sorry Cameron your best route lies with us your 24 hours patrol is already up tomorrow perhaps tonight I shall put you on the McLeod trail you are a free man but don't try to make any breaks when I am gone my friend here is extremely prompt with his weapons farewell get a move on little thunder Cameron will bring up the rear he added some further words in the Indian tongue his voice taking a stirring tone little thunder grunted a surly and unwilling acquiescence and waving his hand to Cameron the trader wheeled his horse up the trail in spite of himself Cameron could not forbear a feeling of pity and admiration as he watched the lithe upright figure swaying up the trail his every movement in unison with that of the beautiful demon he bestowed but with all his pity and admiration he was nonetheless resolved that he would do what in him, Lee, to bring these two to justice this ugly devil at least shall swing he said to himself as he turned his eyes upon little thunder getting his packed ponies out upon the trail this accomplished the Indian pointing onward said gruffly you go in front me back not much cried Cameron you heard the orders from your chief you go in front I bring up the rear I do not know the trail huh trail good grunted little thunder the red-brimmed eyes gleaming benevolently you go front me back he waved his hand impatiently toward the trail following the direction of his hand Cameron's eyes fell upon the stock of his own rifle protruding from a pack upon one of the ponies for a moment the protruding stock held his eyes fascinated huh said the Indian noting Cameron's glance and slipping off his pony in an instant both men were racing for the pack and approaching each other at a sharp angle arrived at striking distance the Indian leaped at Cameron with his knife as was his want ready to strike the appearance of the Indian springing at him seemed to set some of the gray matter in Cameron's brain moving along old tracks like a flash he dropped to his knees in an old football tackle caught the Indian by the legs and tossed him high over his shoulders then springing to his feet he jerked the rifle free from the pack and stood waiting for little thunder's attack but the Indian lay without sound or motion Cameron used his opportunity to look for his cartridge built which after a few minutes anxious search he discovered in the pack he buckled the belt about him made sure his Winchester held a shell and stood waiting that he should be waiting thus with the deliberate purpose of shooting down a fellow human being filled him with a sense of unreality but the events of the last 48 hours had created an entirely new environment and with extraordinary facility his mind had adjusted itself to this environment and though two days before he would have shrunk in horror from the possibility of taking a human life he knew as he stood there that at the first sign of attack he should shoot the Indian down like a wild beast slowly little thunder raised himself to a sitting posture and looked about in dazed surprise as his mind regained its normal condition there deepened in his eyes a look of cunning hatred with difficulty he rose to his feet and stood facing Cameron Cameron waited quietly watching his every move you go in front at length commanded Cameron and no nonsense mind you he added tapping his rifle or I shoot quick the Indian might not have understood all Cameron's words but he was in no doubt as to his meaning it was characteristic of his race that he should know when he was beaten and stoically accept defeat for the time being without further word or look he let off his pack ponies while Cameron took his place at the rear but progress was slow little thunder was either incapable of rapid motion or suddenly indifferent to any necessity for it besides there was no demoniacal dynamic forcing the beasts on from the rear they had not been more than three hours on the trail when Cameron heard behind him the thundering of hoofs glancing over his shoulder he saw coming down upon him raven riding as if pursued by a thousand demons the condition of his horror showed that the race had been long and hard his black satin skin was dripping as if he had come through a river his eyes were bloodshot and starting from his head his mouth was wide open and from it in large clots the foam had fallen upon his neck and chest past Cameron and down upon little thunder raven rushed like a whirlwind yelling with wild oaths the wild get on get on what are you loafing about here for a few vmn directions to the indian and he came thundering back upon Cameron what have you been doing he cried with an oath why are you not miles on get on move move at every yell he hurled his frenzy bronco upon the ponies which brought up the rear and in a few minutes had the whole cavalcade madly careering down the sloping trail wilder and wilder grew the pace turning a sharp corner round a jetting rock a pack pony stumbled and went crashing 50 feet to the rock below on on yelled raven emptying his gun into the struggling animal as he passed more and more difficult became the road until at length it was impossible to keep up the pace we cannot make it we cannot make it muttered raven with bitter oaths oh the cursed fools another two miles would do it at length they came to a spot where the trail touched a level bench halt yelled the trader as he galloped to the head of the column a few minutes he spent in rapid and fierce consultation with little thunder and then came raging back we are going to get this bunch down into the valley there he shouted pointing to the thick timber at the bottom i do not expect your help but i ask you to remain where you are for the present and let me assure you this is no moment for trifling with extraordinary skill and rapidity little thunder managed to lead first the pack ponies and then the others one by one at intervals off the trail as they went onward taking infinite pains to cover their tracks at the various points of departure while this was being done the trader stood shouting directions and giving assistance with a fury of energy that seemed to communicate itself to the very beasts but the work was one of great difficulty and took many minutes to accomplish a half an hour mar just half an hour 15 minutes he kept muttering just a short 15 minutes and all would be well as the last pony disappeared into the woods raven turned to Cameron and with a smile said quietly there that's done now you are free here we part this is your trail it will take you to the cloud i am sorry however that owing to a change in circumstances for which i am not responsible i must ask you for that rifle with the swiftness of a flash of light he whipped his gun into Cameron's face don't move he said still smiling this gun of mine never fails quick don't look round yes those hoofbeats are our friends the police quick it is your life or mine i'd hate to kill you Cameron i give you one chance more there was no help for it and Cameron with his heart filled with futile fury surrendered his rifle now ride in front of me a little way they have just seen us but they don't know that we are aware of their presence ride ride a little faster nighthawk rushed upon Cameron's legging pony there that's better a shout fell upon their ears go right along said raven quietly only a few minutes longer then we part i have greatly enjoyed your company another shout ah ha said raven glancing around it is i barely believe it is my old friend sergeant crisp only two of them by jove if we had only no one we need not have hurried another shout followed by a bullet that sang over their heads ah this is interesting too interesting by half well here goes for you sergeant he wheeled as he spoke turning swiftly in his saddle Cameron saw him raise his rifle hold up you devil he shouted throwing his pony across the black Bronco's track the rifle rang out the police horse staggered swayed and pitched to the earth bringing his rider down with him ah Cameron that was awkward of you said raven gently however it is perhaps as well goodbye old man tell the sergeant not to follow trails here about are dangerous and good police sergeants are scarce again farewell he swung his Bronco off the trail and waving his hand with a smile disappeared into the thick underbrush hold up your hands shouted the police officer who had struggled upright and was now swaying on his feet and covering Cameron with his carbine hurry hurry cried Cameron springing from his pony and waving his hands wildly in the air come on you can get him stand where you are and hold up your hands cried the sergeant Cameron obeyed shouting main mile wrathfully oh come on you bully fool you are losing him come on i tell you keep your hands up or i'll shoot cried the sergeant sternly all right said Cameron holding his hands high but for god's sake hurry up he ran towards the sergeant as he spoke with his hand still above his head halt shouted the sergeant as Cameron came near constable Burke arrest that man oh come get it over cried Cameron in a fury of passion arrest me of course but if you want to catch that chap you'll have to hurry he cannot be far away ah indeed my man said the sergeant pleasantly he is not far away no he's a murderer and a thief and you can catch him if you hurry ah very good very good constable Burke tie this man up to your saddle and we'll take a look round how many might there be in your gang inquired the sergeant tell the truth now it will be the better for you one said Cameron impatiently a chap calling himself Raven Raven a exclaimed sergeant crisp with a new interest Raven by jove yes and an Indian little thunder he called him little thunder jove what a find exclaimed the sergeant yes continued Cameron eagerly Raven is just ahead in the woods there alone and the Indian is further back with a bunch of ponies down in the river bottom oh indeed very interesting and so Raven is all alone in the scrub there waiting doubtless to give himself up said sergeant crisp with fine sarcasm well we are not yet on to your game young man but we will not just play up to that lead yet a while in vain Cameron raged and pleaded and stormed and swore telling his story in incoherent snatches to the intense amusement of sergeant crisp and his companion at length Cameron desisted swallowing his rage as best he could now then we shall move on the pass is not more than an hour away we will put this young man in safekeeping in return for Mr Raven and his interesting friend for a moment he stood looking down upon his horse poor old chap he said we have gone many a mile together on her majesties errands if I have done my duty as faithfully as you have done yours I need not fear my record take his saddle and bridle off Burke we've got one of the gang someday we shall come up with Mr Raven himself yes said Cameron with passionate bitterness and that might be today if you had only listened to me why man he shouted with reviving rage we three could take him even yet ah said sergeant crisp so we could you had him in your hands today said Cameron but like a fool you let him go but someday so help me god I shall bring these murderers to justice ah said sergeant crisp again good very good indeed now my men march end of book three chapter six