Page:GB Lancaster--law-bringer.djvu/181

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"ON THE ATHABASKA"
179

the cant jerked a curse of terror out of Forsyth. The water was running ankle-deep along the bilge, and Honoré sprang to slack the sail-ropes. But Dick was before him.

"Let her have it," he shouted, and the words came thin and weak upon the gale. "She can stand up to it. Let her have it. By ——, we've got to drive her."

"You'll drive her under in less'n no time," yelled Forsyth, bailing on his knees.

Dick gave no answer. He was battling with Honoré to secure the foresheets. From his expression Honoré was evidently objecting. But the words were blown out of his mouth, leaving him with distended cheeks and eyes where the round white showed. The men were flung this way and that as the stout little boat fought for its life, and the high waves slapped over them and through the wet shrillness of the wind came the boom-boom of thunder-guns. For three hours they hung on the edge of eternity, stiffened and bruised and beaten. But the knots of the black lake flew by beneath the counter, and when the saffron dawn caught the sky Honoré cleared his eyes.

"By damn," he said. "I t'ink we come très queek, moi. I vas s'pose we be to Lobstick in four, seex heures."

"Trappin' lynx isn't a circumstance to boatin' wi' you, Heriot," said Forsyth, straightening his cramped limbs cautiously as the great waves took the red of the sun on their crests and sank under it. "There's no waitin' for reinforcements when you go into action."

Dick said nothing. He was looking forward with keen eyes to the moment when he should get his hands on Ducane. And then he would go back and take his reward from Jennifer. For he had been a besotted fool last night.

Through the day they ran on with a strong clear wind behind them. To the left little islands gathered, separated, and slid by, rough with scrub-pine and soft with young blooming willows. The sky toned to hottest hazy blue that stooped to meet a hazy sea. And nowhere down the distance could the keen, searching eyes pick up the smoke-trail that would be the Hudson Bay tug coming up from Chipewyan. The sun was yet high, though seven hours had gone by since noon, when the dinghy slid between Lobstick Island and the jutting mainland and Dick went