The Island of Yellow Sands: An Adventure and Mystery Story for Boys
Ethel C. Brill
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Beth Baran, Rod Crawford,Dave Morgan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Teamat https://www.pgdp.net
[Transcriber's Note: Italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
"IT WAS A DANGEROUS ASCENT.""The Island of Yellow Sands." (See page 120)]
THE ISLANDS OF YELLOW SANDS
AN ADVENTURE AND MYSTERY STORY FOR BOYS
BY
E. C. BRILL
_ILLUSTRATED_
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
ADVENTURE AND MYSTERY STORIES FOR BOYS
_By_ E. C. BRILL
Large 12 mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
THE SECRET CACHE SOUTH FROM HUDSON BAY THE ISLAND OF YELLOW SANDS
COPYRIGHT, 1932, BY CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
THE ISLAND OF YELLOW SANDS
PRINTED IN U. S. A.
CONTENTS
I. THE ISLE WITH THE GOLDEN SANDS 11
II. THE GRANDE PORTAGE 19
III. RONALD MAKES AN ENEMY 29
IV. LAUNCHED ON THE GREAT ADVENTURE 39
V. THE GRAVE OF NANABOZHO 46
VI. ALONG THE NORTH SHORE 56
VII. THE ROCK OF THE BEAVER 65
VIII. STORM AND WRECK 73
IX. THE HOME OF THE GULLS 81
X. THE ISLAND TO THE SOUTHWEST 89
XI. NANGOTOOK RECONNOITERS 98
XII. OVER THE CLIFFS 105
XIII. THE CAMP IN THE CAVE 112
XIV. LOST IN THE FOG 122
XV. STRANDED 132
XVI. ISLAND OR MAINLAND? 139
XVII. A CARIBOU HUNT 148
XVIII. MINONG 158
XIX. LE FORGERON TORDU AGAIN 168
XX. THE NORTHEASTER 178
XXI. COMPELLED TO GIVE UP THE SEARCH 186
XXII. THE INDIAN MINES 196
XXIII. MINING AND HUNTING 207
XXIV. NANGOTOOK'S DISAPPEARANCE 216
XXV. THE RED SPOT AMONG THE GREEN 223
XXVI. THE BURNING WOODS 232
XXVII. NANGOTOOK'S CAPTIVITY 241
XXVIII. FLEEING FROM LE FORGERON 255
XXIX. NEAR STARVATION 264
XXX. THE END OF THE TWISTED BLACKSMITH 271
XXXI. THE WINDIGO 278
XXXII. THE UPROOTED TREE 287
XXXIII. THE MINE 298
The Island of Yellow Sands
I
THE ISLE WITH THE GOLDEN SANDS
"My white brother speaks wisdom."
The two boys were startled. The red-haired one, who had been lying onthe ground, scrambled to his feet. The other, a wiry dark-skinned lad,sprang from his seat on a spruce log and seized the newcomer by thehand.
"Etienne, Nangotook," he cried, "how came you here?"
"Even as you, little brother, over those great waters." The Indian madea gesture towards the lake, which gleamed between the long point and theisland that protected the bay of the Grande Portage from wind and waves."I have listened to the words of this other white brother and found themgood," he added, with a grave glance at the surprised face of thered-haired boy. "He would deal justly with my people as with his own."
"That would he, even as I would," the dark lad exclaimed. "He is my goodfriend and comrade Ronald Kennedy of Montreal. And this, Ronald," headded, completing the introduction, "is Nangotook, the Flame, called bythe good fathers Etienne, friend of my father and of my own childhood."
The greetings over, the Indian seated himself on the log beside Jean."And will my little brother be a trader to steal the wits of the Indianand take his furs away from him?" he asked.
"Not I, Nangotook, unless I can be an honest one and give the trapperand hunter fair return for his pelts. Though," Jean added morethoughtfully, "I am eager indeed to gain gold, and I know not how it isto be done except through trade with the savages."
"Gold," said the Ojibwa thoughtfully. "White men would do all things forgold. Why is my brother Jean in need of it? What could gold give himbetter than this?" He stretched out his arm with a sweeping gesture thatembraced the water, still glowing with the soft light of the afterglow,and the rocky wooded shores.
"It would give back the land and the house on the beautiful St.Lawrence, the house where my father was born," Jean answered, his facesoftening. "You know the place, Etienne, and you know how my fatherloves it. And now, if he had but the money, he could buy it back, but itis a great sum and he has it not."
The Indian nodded in silence. After a moment, fixing his dark eyes onJean's, he said slowly, "How then if some man should lead my brother andhis comrade with hair like the maple leaf before it falls, to a placewhere they can gather much gold and load with it many canoes?"
The two boys stared at him.
"You are making game of us," cried Jean indignantly.
"Nay, little brother. I will tell you the story." And the Indian settledhimself more comfortably on the log.
"Among my people," he began, "a tale is told of an island lying far outin the wide waters. On that island is a broad beach of sand, a beachunlike any other, for the sand is of a yellow more bright and shiningthan the birch leaf when the frost has touched it."
"Gold?" queried Jean. "I have heard that there is gold on the shores andislands of this lake, but no white man has found it."
"As the story is told among my people," Nangotook continued, withoutheeding the interruption, "many summers ago three braves were driven bythe wind on the shore of that island. They loaded their canoe with thesand, and started to paddle away. Then a man, as tall as a pine tree andwith a face like the lightning in its fierceness, appeared on the sandsand commanded them to bring back the gold. They did not heed, and hewaded into the water, and, growing greater and more terrible at everystep, gained on them swiftly. Then they were sick with fear, and agreedto return to the land and empty out the yellow sand they had stolen.When not one grain remained in the canoe, the manito of the sandsallowed them to go."
"That is the story of the Island of Yellow Sands," said Jean, asNangotook paused. "I recall it now. I heard it in childhood. Many havesought that island, but none has found it. Do you mean that you knowwhere it is and can lead us there?"
The Ojibwa nodded. "My grandfather saw the island once many summers ago,when a storm had driven him far out in the lake. But the wind was wrongand the waves were rolling high on the beach, so he could not land. Hewas close enough to see the sands gleaming in the sunlight. He knew themfor the same as the piece of yellow metal a medicine man of his clan hadtaken from a Sioux prisoner. The Sioux had bought it from one whosepeople lived far towards the setting sun. That metal was what the whitemen call gold, an
d are always seeking. I heard my grandfather tell thetale while the winter snow whistled around the lodge."
"And he told you how to reach the island?" asked Ronald. "Why did he notgo back and bring away some of the gold?"
"He had no need of the yellow sands, and he feared the manito that wassaid to guard them."
"And do not you fear the manito?" Jean questioned.
The Indian shook his head. "I am a Christian," he said proudly, "and thegood fathers have taught me that I need fear no evil spirits, if Iremain true in my heart to the great Father above. Then too," he addedin a lower voice, "I have a mighty charm," his hand touched the breastof his deerskin tunic, "which protects me from all the spirits of thewaters and the islands."
The two lads were not surprised at this strange intermingling of savagesuperstition and civilized religion. Such a combination did not seem ascontradictory to them, in that superstitious age, as it would to amodern boy. Jean merely replied very seriously that he had heard thatthe golden sands of the island were guarded, not only by the spirithimself, but by gigantic serpents, that came up out of the water, andfierce birds and beasts which, at the command of the manito, attackedthe rash man who attempted to land.
At that the Indian smiled and, leaning forward from his log, said in alow voice, "Nay, little brother, many tales are told that are not true.May not the red men wish to keep the white men from the islands of thisgreat water, and so tell them tales to frighten them away? Is it notright that we should keep something to ourselves, not the yellow sandsonly but the red metal that comes from the Isle Minong? My brother hasheard tales of Minong, some white men call it the Isle Royale. Yet Ihave been there and others with me, and after we had sacrificed to themanito of the island, we carried away pieces of red metal, and no evilbefell us."
"My uncle," remarked Ronald, "told me of a man he knew, Alexander Henry,once a partner in the Company, and even now connected with it, Ibelieve, who went in search of the Island of Yellow Sands. But when hereached it, there were no golden sands at all, only the bones of deadcaribou."
"He never reached the island," said Nangotook scornfully. "Those whoguided him misled him, and let him think he had been to the right place.The true Island of Yellow Sands is many days' journey from the islandwhere he landed."
"And you know where it is?"
"I know in what part of the waters it lies, where to leave the shore andhow to head my canoe," the Ojibwa replied confidently. "If my brothersfear not a hard and dangerous journey, I will take them there. I knownot whether the charm I bear will protect them also," he added moredoubtfully.
"We are willing to risk that," Ronald answered promptly. "We're notfearing a little danger and hardship, if there is chance of reaching theisland with the sands of gold."
"It is not that we fear to go," put in Jean, "but how can we find anopportunity? We cannot ask for leave from the fleet, for then we musttell our purpose, and that would never do."
"No," Ronald agreed, "we must be keeping our plans secret, so we may bethe first to land. Then the gold will be ours by right of discovery.'Tis not likely we could obtain leave anyway, if we asked for it,whatever our purpose, and----"
He was interrupted by the Indian, who made a gesture of silence.Glancing about, the boys saw several men in the scarlet caps and sashesof canoemen, approaching along the shore. Nangotook rose from the log.
"To-morrow, after the sun has gone to rest, I will speak to my brothersagain," he said in a low voice. "Let them be at this spot." Withoutwaiting for a reply, he slipped swiftly and silently away among thetrees.
Before the canoemen drew near enough to speak to them, the boys weremaking their way towards the post. They kept back from the shore, in thedusk of the woods, that they might not have to encounter the newcomers,who appeared to be strangers to them.
Jean Havard and Ronald Kennedy had come to the Grande Portage, on thenorthwest shore of Lake Superior, as canoemen in the service of theNorthwest Fur Company. Ronald's uncle was a partner in the Company, andthe boy had been ambitious to follow the life of the fur-trader. Both heand Jean had found the long trip from the Sault interesting and wellworth while, in spite of its hardships and strenuous toil. They wereoutdoor lads, with a plentiful share of the hardihood and adventurousspirit of the outdoor men of their time. Since reaching the Portage,however, they had begun to question whether they really wished to makefur-trading their life-work. Ronald, especially, an honest,straightforward Scot with a strong sense of fair play, had been sickenedand roused to indignation by many of the tales told by men from thenorth and west who had come to the Portage with their loads of furs. Itseemed to the boy that most of the traders cared for nothing but gainand were far from honest in their methods. They boasted of giving liquorto the Indians, stealing their wits away, and obtaining their furs, theearnings of a whole winter's work and hardship, for next to nothing. Tothe boys this seemed a miserable, heartless way of doing business. Bothwere eager for the life of the explorer. They longed to push through thewilderness and see strange lands, but the regular work of thefur-trader, carried on as it was by most of these men, had lost itsattractiveness.
Ronald, as well as Jean, was poor and had his own way to make. He knewthat his uncle had planned to get him into the Northwest Company'spermanent service. From a practical point of view the opportunity wouldbe a good one. He would have a chance to advance. He might even becomesome day a member of the Company, and make a fortune. But he hated theidea of being compelled to use the methods which seemed a matter ofcourse to most of the "northmen". He had been vigorously expressing hisdisgust with the whole sordid business, when Nangotook had interruptedhim. The Indian had made it plain that he had been listening to theboy's remarks and had approved of them.
The Ojibwa's extraordinary proposition had put the rights and wrongs ofthe fur trade quite out of the two lads' heads for the time being. Theywere fired with a desire to go in quest of the wonderful island. Itmight be a mere myth indeed, but they were willing to believe that itwas not. Nangotook's grandfather had seen it, and Jean declared that hehad never known Nangotook to lie. In those days, even in the last decadeof the eighteenth century, very little was known about the islands ofLake Superior. The great central expanse of the lake was unexplored. Whocould tell what wonders it might contain?
