Grace Harlowe\'s Overland Riders in the Great North Woods

J >> Jessie Graham Flower >> Grace Harlowe\'s Overland Riders in the Great North Woods

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The bear suddenly bristled, swayed his head from side to side, and
began to growl. At almost the same instant Hippy Wingate's bull pup was
galvanized into life. He began to utter deep growls and resentful
coughs.

"Some varmint hangin' around, I reckon," nodded the forest woman in
answer to a look of inquiry from Grace. "Be still, Henerey!"

"I hear something coming," declared Tom.

Hippy fastened a hand on Hindenburg's collar, and Joe threatened the
bear with a club until he slunk away and disappeared, then, to their
amazement, Peg Tatem stamped into camp, followed by a group of
lumberjacks.

The Overland Riders gazed questioningly at his scowling face. Tom Gray
was the only member of the outfit who knew him, but they instantly
recognized the foreman of Section Forty-three, from the descriptions of
him given by Tom and Joe Shafto, who now stood glaring angrily at him
through her big horn glasses.

Tom greeted the newcomer cordially.

"Won't you sit down and have a snack with us?" he asked.

"Don't want nothin' t' eat with the likes of ye, thankee," growled Peg.

"Oh, that's all right, old top," observed Hippy cheerfully. "We aren't
particularly eager to have a rough-neck sit down to mess with us."

"Hold yer tongue, ye cheap dude!" snarled Peg, shaking the heavy stick,
that he carried as a cane, at Lieutenant Wingate.

"Don't get rough," grinned Hippy. "What do you want here anyway?"

The lumberjacks, who had accompanied the foreman, halted a few paces to
the rear of their superior, and neither their appearance nor their
expressions were reassuring.

"What is it you wish?" demanded Tom.

"What ye got to say about this?" snorted Peg, taking in the burned area
with a sweep of his stick.

"As a forester, I am very sorry that this has happened, though it was
through no fault of ours," answered Tom.

"Ye lie!" exploded the foreman.

"Tatem, you will please drop that sort of talk here. Remember there are
ladies present. Besides, I don't take that word from anyone. I said, the
fire occurred through no fault of ours. A tree fell on our campfire and
scattered the embers, and, before we realized it, the forest was on
fire. We worked all night and all the forenoon trying to head the fire
off, which we finally succeeded in doing. Had we not done our part, this
whole section would long since have been entirely burned off. Why are
you taking it upon yourself to come here and interfere with us?"

"Why? Ye bloomin' idiot! I'm talkin' because ye've burned off a few
hundred thousand feet of timber from our section. That's why, and yer
goin' to pay for every stick of it. Do ye git me?"

"Oh, perfectly, perfectly," interjected Hippy.

"Your section, did you say?" demanded Tom.

"That's what I said," leered Peg.

"You are mistaken. This is not your section. It is possible that you may
have intended to crowd your boundaries and steal a few thousand feet of
state timber, but so far as its belonging to you or to the people you
represent, I know better."

"Ye--ye say I'm a thief?" demanded Peg, the words seeming to stick in
his throat.

"No. You may intend to be one, but I have not said that you are. You may
be for all that I know. If you have nothing more sensible to say than to
accuse us of burning your property, move on! Before you go, however, I
wish to say that I believe that, if the truth were to come out, you know
more about what caused that fire, and how it was caused, than anyone
else. You know what I mean, Peg Tatem."

Only Hippy understood to what Tom Gray referred. That Peg Tatem did,
Lieutenant Wingate had not the least doubt, for the foreman's face
flushed a violent red under his tan, and his eyes narrowed, as he
gripped his club-like cane.

"Get out of here, you and your jacks!" commanded Tom savagely.

"Yes, skip, vamoose, articulate your joints. In other words, shoo!"
jeered Hippy. "If I ever see you around our camp again I'll slap your
wrist. What!"

Peg Tatem, throwing his weight on the clumsy piece of wood that did duty
as a leg, made an almost unbelievable leap towards Tom Gray and brought
his club-cane down with all the powerful strength that the man
possessed.

"I'll kill ye fer that!" raged the foreman of Forty-three as his club
descended.

CHAPTER XII

A SHOT FROM THE FOREST

Tom leaped back and the stick hit the ground instead of the mark that it
was intended to reach.

Before the foreman could recover himself, Tom Gray was upon him, and a
blow from the Overlander Rider's fist sent Peg Tatem reeling, but before
Tom could follow up his advantage, the lumberman collected himself and
began leaping around Tom, now striking with the club, then kicking out
with the wooden leg. It was impossible to get close enough to the fellow
to give him the knock-out blow that Captain Gray was hoping to land on
his adversary.

Thus far neither side had made a move to interfere with the combatants,
but a movement on the part of the lumberjacks, a gradual edging up,
warned Hippy that his opportunity to get into the scrimmage was near at
hand.

"Prepare to defend yourselves, girls," he said in a tone that carried to
their ears only. "If the worst comes, shoot! Tom and I may get knocked
out, for these fellows are tougher than the trees they cut."

"Don't worry, Hippy. We will take care of ourselves," said Grace calmly.
"Trust us to defend ourselves."

"With what?" questioned Elfreda.

"There are plenty of good stout sticks on the ground. If you see that
these jacks mean to attack us, each of you grab a club and let them have
it on their heads. See! Joe is holding her club behind her."

The forest woman was waiting grimly for an opportunity to crack a
lumberjack's head. That opportunity came sooner than she expected. Two
jacks, having crept around behind the lean-tos, suddenly lifted the rear
supports and turned the structures over into the fire.

"Beat it, ye varmint!" screamed the woman, making a rush for the men.
One of them struck her, but fortunately for Joe it was a glancing blow,
and merely turned her around facing away from them. Joe kept on turning
until she was again facing the jeering lumbermen.

"Take that, ye varmint!" The forest woman's club descended on a
lumberjack's head. "And ye, too!" she shrieked, hitting the other man
across the bridge of his nose.

"Come on! Come on, and I'll wallop the whole pack of ye!"

"Steady, Joe," warned Grace Harlowe. "Don't lose your head."

Tom and Peg were still at it, the foreman growing more and more
ferocious as the moments passed and knowing that he had the Overlander
at a disadvantage, for Tom was fighting with his fists only, while Peg
was using his stick and his wooden leg, and it were difficult for any
person, no matter how skillful a boxer he might be, to get under those
two dangerous guards. Once Tom succeeded in doing so. His blow knocked
the foreman down, but Peg rolled away and was on his feet again with
remarkable quickness, and went at his adversary determined to brain him.

"Ready, girls!" called Hippy.

"They are going to rush us," warned Grace. "When I say 'Clubs!' you
girls grab sticks, keep together, and stand your ground. Don't run at
them."

Each Overland girl carried an automatic revolver, and there were rifles
within easy reach, but it was not their intention to use either, unless
the necessity to do so became imperative. The rifles had been brought on
this journey largely because the party hoped to do some hunting in the
North Woods. The revolvers were, as on previous journeys into the wilder
sections of their native country, a part of their regular equipment and
for use in great emergencies only.

The lumberjacks with one accord rushed at the Overland Riders, uttering
yells and jeers. They carried no weapons in their hands, but, as Grace
knew to be their practice, each jack wore a lumberman's knife.

"Clubs!"

At the signal, each Overland girl snatched up a stick and stood her
ground with set lips and a face from which most of the color had fled,
realizing fully the seriousness of the situation.

Lieutenant Wingate waited until the lumberjacks were almost upon him,
waited lounging indolently, his face wearing a grin.

"Oh, don't hurry, children," he admonished. "Save your wind for the
flight to the rear." Suddenly, Hippy bent forward and when he rose his
hand held a pine knot fully five feet long, the limb ablaze almost from
end to end. Not more than two feet separated the burning part from his
hands.

The limb was heavy, but Lieutenant Wingate was far from delicate, and
when he swung the burning limb it had power and speed behind it. The
limb burned and bruised the faces of three lumberjacks in its first
swing. Hippy plunged at the mob and belabored them right and left with
the blazing torch. More than one jack had to stop fighting long enough
to put out the blaze that singed the hair off his head.

Other jacks had run around one end of the camp to rush it from that
vantage point. Joe Shafto and her club met them, and so did the Overland
girls. Without uttering a sound they belabored the ruffians, beating,
whacking, prodding and swinging their clubs to good purpose.

"Help! Oh, help!" screamed Emma Dean.

A thrown club had hit her on the leg and felled her. Emma was out of the
fight so far as further defense was concerned, holding her aching limb
and moaning as she rocked back and forth.

Hippy turned for a quick glance in her direction.

"Look out, Hippy!" warned Nora, but her warning was too late. Several of
the attackers, taking advantage of his attention being drawn away from
them, leaped on him. They bore Hippy to the ground. He was mauled and
thumped, but not for many seconds, because the girls rushed to his
rescue and clubbed his attackers off. The jacks, returning, picked
Lieutenant Wingate up and tossed him into the campfire.

Emma screamed at the sight, but Elfreda Briggs grabbed his protruding
feet and hauled him out, while Grace and her companions beat back the
jacks who had done the cruel thing. Elfreda put out the flames and
assisted Hippy to his feet.

"Go in and fight!" urged J. Elfreda. "They're getting the best of us."

At that instant, Tom Gray, turning his head to see how it fared with the
girls, was hit on the head by Peg Tatem's club and knocked unconscious.
As it proved later, the blow was a light one and Tom was not seriously
hurt.

The foreman, uttering an exultant yell, aimed a kick at Tom's head with
his peg leg.

Grace Harlowe hurled her club at the foreman's head, but missed the
mark.

_Bang!_

A bullet hit Peg's wooden leg, and the leg went out from under its owner
like magic. Peg landed on the ground but he was up in an instant, raging
and springing for Tom. A second bullet hit the wooden leg and split it.

The Overlanders were amazed.

"Who shot?" cried Anne.

"Don't know," panted Elfreda as she and Hippy charged two jacks who were
trying to reach Emma.

Peg, frantic with rage, turned his attention to the others of the party,
apparently believing that one of them had fired the shots. He raised his
club to strike Grace who was bending over Tom.

_Bang!_

The club dropped from Peg's hand, and the arm fell to his side with a
bullet hole through it.

[Illustration: The Club Dropped from Peg's Hand.]

"I'm hit! Kill 'em!" he screamed. Grabbing up the stick with his left
hand, the foreman again started for Grace, his eyes bloodshot, his lips
purple.

Grace grabbed what was nearest to her hand, a pine knot, and hurled it
at the ruffian. It hit him full in the face, and the sharp protuberances
on the knot drew points of blood.

A blow from a lumberjack's fist, at this juncture, knocked Joe Shafto
flat on her back. She was up with a bound.

"Henerey! Henere-e-e-e-e!" There was a wild note in her voice, a note of
alarm and command. "Henere-e-e-e-e-e!"

They heard Henry sliding down a tree--heard his paws raking the bark as
he slid. Joe heard it too.

"Sick 'em! Sick 'em! Sick 'em!" she screamed, giving Henry a violent
prod with her club and driving the bear towards the lumberjacks. One of
them struck the beast with a club, hitting Henry over the shoulders.

Henry made a pass at the man, bringing away a section of the fellow's
coat in his claws which dug into the jack's flesh with their sharp
points. The man howled and fled from the beast.

Alternately prodding the bear with her club, and cracking a lumberjack
head wherever possible, the forest woman fought her way ahead, backed by
Tom and Hippy.

Thus goaded, Henry rose on his hind legs and went through that party of
rough-necks like one of his kind cuffing its way through a flock of
grazing sheep. Henry bit where he could, but his greatest execution was
done with his powerful paws.

The Overland Riders, though angry, weary and perspiring, unable to
resist the humor of the ludicrous sight, broke into shouts of laughter.

"Henry has them on the run. Sail in!" bellowed Hippy. "Run, you
ruffians, before I turn the rest of our menagerie on you!"

The lumberjacks were now giving ground rapidly, though Peg, wounded
and, judging from his expression, suffering, was not further punished.
When he saw his men running away, the foreman of Section Forty-three
hopped off as best he could, shouting angry threats. The victorious
Overlanders with the assistance of Henry chased the lumber outfit to the
river, into which the jacks plunged and waded across with all speed.

"Don't you ever show your face in our camp again! Next time, if you do,
it will be bullets, not clubs," Lieutenant Wingate shouted after the
retreating attackers.

Henry was restrained from following the lumbermen across the river only
by heroic measures. The forest woman headed him off and clubbed him back
towards the camp, her clothing torn, her hair down her back, her face
red and angry.

"Splendid!" cried Grace Harlowe, running to meet her. "You are
wonderful."

"I say, Joseph, if that's your name, may I address you as 'Old Dear'
without imperilling my life?" teased Hippy.

"Ye kin call me anything ye like. After the talk of them varmints
anything would sound as sweet as the harps of Heving in a thunder
storm."

"All right--Old Dear," answered Hippy solemnly. "I was going to tell you
that you are the apple of my eye, but, being a peach, you can't very
well be an apple, so we will let it go at 'Old Dear.'"

Joe glared through her spectacles. The sharp lines of the rugged face of
the forest woman gradually melted into a smile, the first smile that any
member of that party had ever seen there.

"Go on with ye!" she retorted laughing despite her attempt to be stern.
"I ought to sick the bear on ye, but I ain't goin' to."

CHAPTER XIII

A BLAZED WARNING

"Well, we gave them a run, didn't we?" crowed Hippy.

"I reckon ye'd better pack and git out of here right lively," advised
the guide.

Tom Gray agreed that Peg Tatem would miss no opportunity to take revenge
on the Overland Riders for what they had done to him, and it was decided
to break camp and move at once, the forest woman being confident that
she could keep in the right direction once she found a lumber road that
lay to the right of them a couple of miles away.

Weary as they were, the Overlanders were quite willing to get away
without loss of time from the scene of their troubles. Their equipment
had suffered some, but none was left behind. While they were packing,
Tom, in order to make them understand that they had gained the ill-will
of desperate men, decided to tell them of the dynamiting of the tree,
and declared that it was his belief that Peg Tatem's lumberjacks had
done the deed, intending that the tree should fall on the camp while
they were asleep.

"There are fellows in Forty-three's gang that were in the mob at
Bisbee's Corners," declared Tom with emphasis.

"Are they likely to follow us?" asked Elfreda.

"I don't believe they will stray far from their own camp, but they may
try to get us before we leave here. Therefore let's go. They have work
to do in their own camp, you see," reminded Tom.

Packing and breaking camp were accomplished quickly. Ponies were
saddled, packs lashed on, after which the party started away, the guide
leading, carrying a kerosene dash-lamp to assist her in reading blazes
on trees and avoiding obstructions, for the lamp had a reflector that
threw a fairly strong bar of light.

Daylight must see the Overland Riders some miles from the scene of their
fight with the men from Forty-three, and there must be as little trail
left as possible. For the latter reason, Joe Shafto kept to such ground
as was covered with a mat of pine needles. These, being springy, gave
way under the hoofs of the horses, leaving no hoof-prints, no trail.
Of the Overland Riders only two persons observed this--Tom and Grace,
for, in her brief trips with him into the woods where he, as a forester,
spent much time, Grace had learned a great deal about forestry work.

No halt was made until midnight, when the forest woman reined in and
directed a ray of light against a huge pine tree.

"A fresh blaze," said Tom, as he trotted up to her to see what the blaze
indicated.

"A blaze with a bent arrow cut in it, the arrow smeared with dirt to
make it stand out. Clever, but what does it mean, Mrs. Shafto?" he
asked.

"It's a warnin', Cap'n."

"Of what?"

"That I don't rightly know. The arrow, I reckon, points at the danger."

"Is the arrow not pointed in the direction of our old camp?" asked
Elfreda.

"Ye guessed it, Miss Briggs. That means we'd better be moseying along
right smart."

"How long has that blaze been there?" asked Hippy.

"An hour, mebby," replied Joe. "Come along, Henry."

A few strokes of her axe obliterated the arrow on the blaze, and the
party pressed on.

"I wonder if that arrow-blaze was intended for us," murmured Tom, as
they rode on in silence.

Soon, the guide's lamp revealed another blaze, but this was purely a
direction blaze, which she mutilated and changed to mean a different
direction, then made a sharp turn to the right. Other blazes
encountered, all freshly made, led them straight to the lumber road for
which she had been searching and would have missed had it not been for
the friendly blazes that pointed the way.

"What do ye 'low for that?" demanded the forest woman when they had
emerged on the road.

"I believe now that the blazes were intended for us," answered Tom, his
brow wrinkling in perplexity. "It is very strange."

"Why worry?" spoke up Hippy. "We are being led, but what's the odds who
is doing the leading so long as we are led?"

"Pure logic," observed Miss Briggs.

"From an illogical source," added Emma in an undertone.

They proceeded along the lumber road for fully ten miles, fording two
streams, then halting at a sawmill on the banks of a river. The mill had
not yet started operations. Tom got off and looked the property over,
consulted his map, then the journey was resumed. Just beyond the mill
they came upon another of the now familiar blazes, directing them to
proceed to the right and follow the river bank.

"The blazer fellow evidently knows where we wish to go. Do you know
where we are, Mrs. Shafto?" called Tom.

"Yes, I know now. It's the Little Big Branch River, though it ain't much
of a river yit. We got a long ways to go before we git to the place
where ye folks are goin' to hang out for a spell. I reckon we'd better
make camp just before daylight."

No one offered objection to her proposal. All were weary and cold, as
well as hungry and sleepy. Emma was swaying in her saddle, frequently
catching herself napping and straightening up just in time to prevent
falling from her horse, while the others, noses and lips blue, shivered
and made no effort to control the chattering of their teeth.

"Oh, why was I ever induced to leave my happy home?" wailed Anne. "This
is the worst of all."

Nothing more was heard from any of them until Joe Shafto finally
announced that they had reached the end of their night's journey.

"Rustle something for the makin's, and we'll have heat and a hot drink
right smart," she called.

While Hippy tied the ponies and fetched water for them, Tom gathered
firewood and started the fire for breakfast. Tea, being the quickest
drink to make, was brewed, and gulped down by the Overlanders almost as
fast as Joe could, pour it.

"How fu--fu--funny you look," chattered Emma, nodding at Miss Briggs.

"If I look as funny as I feel, I must be a scream," retorted Elfreda.

"Here, here! Don't I get any of that?" cried Hippy, coming up at a run.

Tea was served to him.

"Ah-h-h-h! Nectar of the gods! Now if some one will kindly prepare a
little food, I shall offer deep and sincere thanks; then seek my downy
couch for sweet repose."

"Hippy is the first to thaw out," chuckled Tom.

"He always was soft, anyway," reminded Emma.

"And we are all blue-noses this morning," added Nora laughingly.

Under the warming influence of the tea, their spirits soon revived, and
when the campfire was laid and set going a little distance from the
small cook fire, sighs of relief were heard on all sides.

Day was just breaking when the party laid down by the fire for a much
needed rest. Pine needles were their beds that morning. No one had the
ambition to help build a lean-to, nor did one care to wait for some one
else to make it.

Noon found them still asleep, with the exception of Grace, who had risen
two hours earlier to get breakfast for Tom who was about to leave for
his work, perhaps not to return for some weeks. The Overlanders were to
make a permanent camp further down on the Little Big Branch, and, when
Tom Gray returned from his first "cruise," he was to follow the river
until he found them.

"Rather indefinite," laughed Grace. "However, you aren't much of a
woodsman if you can't find us with such directions, though don't cut off
the bends in the river or you surely will miss us. We do not intend that
our camp shall be over-conspicuous."

Tom said his good-bye and, mounting, rode away and disappeared in the
forest. Grace stirred up the fire and added fresh wood so that her
companions might have warmth, for the morning was chill, and then called
them.

Spirals of smoke were rising above the trees from the campfire. Joe
Shafto looked up at it, and shook her head disapprovingly.

"If there's one low-down jack within fifty mile of us on high ground,
he'll have us spotted for certain," she rebuked. "Great fire--great
smoke for Indian signaling."

"Thank you. I had not thought of the smoke," answered Grace. "How shall
I stop its smoking?"

"Pour water on it till it's out, then build a new fire. Never mind. Too
late now. The damage's done, and a little smoke more or less won't
matter no how."

Breakfast, noon breakfast, proved to be so satisfying that no one felt
inclined to pack up and move on.

"Girls, what do you say to the suggestion that we make camp here until
some time to-morrow?" questioned Anne. "We are in no hurry, except that
we do not wish to be overtaken by Peg Tatem's gang, which, it doesn't
seem probable that we shall be."

"Yes! Stay!" cried the Overlanders.

"Is that satisfactory to you, Mrs. Shafto?" asked Grace, turning to the
guide.

"I kin stand it if ye kin."

"We stay," announced Grace. "Let's build our sheds after we have settled
our breakfasts and are able to summon some ambition."

Their sleeping quarters were finished before dark, and then the girls
rambled along the river, here and there startling a buck or a doe into
sudden flight. There were no man-made trails here, no sounds other than
the murmuring waters of the Little Big Branch and the voices of nature,
to which Emma Dean listened, nodded or shook her head as if she and
those voices were holding converse. The laughing teasing of her
companions failed to swerve Emma from her newfound hobby.

That night, as they snuggled under their blankets, clear and cold out of
the silence pealed a mournful howl, long-drawn, strange and full of the
wild.

Nora and Anne buried their heads under the blankets to shut out the
sound.

"What was that?" cried Elfreda.

"A wolf--an old she timber wolf--a varmint," answered the forest woman
from her lean-to.

"And it bids us beware of perils near at hand," droned Emma in a
far-away voice.

"Will you stop that?" demanded Elfreda. "You give me the creeps."

"I think it is perfectly wonderful," breathed Emma. Then with greater
emphasis she exclaimed, "Such a voice in the wilderness is an
inspiration. How I wish Madam Gersdorff might be here to hear it. Girls,
you don't know, you cannot dream what a wonderful woman she is."

"I'd like to see _anybody_ dream with you setting up such a chatter,"
complained Anne.

"Please, please, Emma, let the wolves howl if they wish. We can't stop
them, but that is no reason why you should keep us all awake. We need
sleep," begged Grace Harlowe laughingly.

After a few muttered protests, Emma subsided, and only the faint yelps
of the dreaming bull pup and the noisy slumber of Hippy Wingate
disturbed the deeply impressive silence of the great forest. That he
might better guard the camp, Hindenburg had been tied out to a tree on
his long leash. Lieutenant Wingate had built a miniature lean-to for the
pup to crawl under in the event of rain, but Hindenburg was already
under it, stretched out on the yielding browse bed, one little brown ear
vigilantly erect to catch the slightest sound. Emma Dean declared that
the dog must be deaf in that ear, for he never seemed to hear with it.

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