XXXII

      THE DESERTED CAMP

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      “So the plucky little dogs killed a bear, eh?” went on Captain Stephens, as he paced up and down the deck. “I’ll warrant they’ve had a deuce of a good time in there all by themselves, and they’ll be sorry to be disturbed. Find them! Of course we will — find them fat as seals and happier than we are!”

      In spite of all this both he and Mr. Hazlett were uneasy enough when finally the Bennington steamed majestically through the narrow mouth of Kaludiak Bay — the first steamer ever to awaken the echoes there — and finally swung to her anchor at a point indicated by the Aleut chief.

      But to the whistle there came no answer of a rifle-shot, no signal fluttered, and no smoke was seen. The Aleut chief now became genuinely frightened as he pointed out the landing-place opposite to the barabbara, which, of course, could not be seen by reason of the low sea-wall.

      The rattle of the davit blocks followed that of the anchor chains as a bow boat was launched.

      “Go aboard, Mr. Cummings!” said Captain Stephens. “Take Mr. Hazlett and this old chief, and don’t you come back without those boys! They’re only out hunting somewhere, or else they’d have a fire going.”

      As the bow of the boat grated on the shingle Mr. Hazlett sprang ashore, and, under guidance of the Aleut, hastened over the sea-wall and across the flat to the barabbara. All was deserted and silent! No smoke issued from the roof, and not the slightest sound was to be heard. No boat appeared at the shore of the lagoon. The Aleut chief threw himself on the ground and began to chant.

      Mr. Hazlett kicked open the door of the hut and pushed in, searching the half-dark interior. Only the whitened ashes showed a former human occupancy. It was not until, in his despair, he had turned to leave that he saw, fastened by a peg to the inside of the door, a brief note on a bit of paper.

      “Mr. Richard Hazlett,” it read. “All well. We sailed about July 30th. Love to the folks.” Signed to this were the names of the three boys.

      “God bless them!” he muttered. “They knew I’d come! Why did I not come soon enough! But where did they sail — which way — and what has become of them?”

      He turned to the grovelling native.

      “You lying coward!” said he. “Take me to them now, or by the Lord you’ll swing for it! Do you hear?”

      The old man wept bitterly. “My boys go, too,” he wailed. “Bad mans go, maybe so! Maybe so all dead now!”

      In answer he was caught by the arm and hastened back to the gravely waiting boat crew. It was a saddened party which reported the truth on board the Bennington.

      “Get under way, Mr. Cummings!” ordered Captain Stephens. “We’ve not lost them yet. The writing is pretty fresh on that note. We haven’t passed them anywhere below, and they must be on their way back to Kadiak.”

      Without delay the Bennington once more took up her course and, emerging from the mouth of Kaludiak, headed northward up the east side of the island. Within ten miles the sharp-eyed Aleut detected a flat bit of beach, and the interpreter suggested that a boat be sent ashore to examine it, as it was sometimes used as a camping-place. When the lieutenant returned he reported that he had found poles cut not long before and used as a shelter support. A fire had been built not more than a week ago, in his belief. It might or might not be the camping-place of the missing boys.

      The face of Captain Stephens brightened. “Of course it’s those boys!” he said. “I tell you, those youngsters are sailors. We’ll find them all lined up on Kadiak dock waiting for us — and me obliged to report to Washington that I’ve spent two months with this vessel hunting for them! God bless my soul!” However, it was satisfaction and not anxiety which caused his eyes to glisten.

      Precautions were not ceased, and the boats continued to comb out every open bay which could not be searched with the ship’s glasses. Finally they reached the mouth of Eagle Harbor, near the entrance to which the boats discovered yet another camp-fire, probably marking the limits of another day’s journey of the young voyagers.

      “Plucky little dogs — plucky!” grumbled the captain. “They’re not old women like you, Hazlett! They can take care of themselves all right!”

      The interpreter stepped up. “The old man says there’s a village at the head of this harbor,” he began. “Says there may be a few people living there, though most of them have likely gone to the fisheries. He thinks the village ought to be examined.”

      “Go in with the boat, Mr. Cummings!” ordered Captain Stephens. “It’ll keep you overnight. As for me, I don’t dare risk the tide-rips between these rocks and that big island over there — which must be Ugak Island, I suspect. I’m going to drop back and go outside that island, and to-morrow I’ll meet you thirty miles up the coast. Comb out the bay! If the boys have left the village they’ve very likely sailed for the opposite point of this bay, and maybe you’ll get word of them at one place or the other.”