Mystery at Devil's Paw (10 page)

Much relieved, the five boys drank some hot cocoa which Chet had brewed. Ted volunteered to stand the first watch during the remaining hours of darkness. Then the others crawled into their sleeping bags. The rest of the night passed quietly.

Shortly before ten o'clock that morning a boat arrived at the island, bringing the two agents from Juneau. They came ashore, carrying a small but powerful two-way radio set, which they turned over to the Hardys.

“The chief thought this might come in handy on your trip up the Kooniak,” one of the men explained. “If you get a lead on the gang, he'd like you to report to Juneau at once.”

“Thanks. We'll do that,” Frank promised.

Half an hour later the Hardys and Ted set off, paddling to the western shore of the river. Here they unloaded the two canoes and made the portage around the falls.

“Whew! That's a full day's work before we even get started!” Joe remarked, wiping the perspiration from his brow.

Ted chuckled. “These Alaskan rivers are beautiful, but you'll find they're no picnic to navigate!”

After a brief lunch the boys embarked on the next leg of their journey. Frank volunteered to paddle the trailing canoe which carried the gasoline cans.

Ted approved. “We'll ride better that way, with one man behind. And there'll be no danger of losing the fuel tins in an upset.”

Ted, as the most experienced woodsman of the trio, took the bow position in the lead canoe. They shoved off, and soon found themselves paddling against a swift current. They were also traveling “uphill” since the Kooniak flowed down from the Alaskan coastal range.

“Boy, looks as though we're in for a real workout!” Joe called back to his brother. Frank grinned in response.

“Don't worry, you two are in good shape,” Ted commented. “This would be rough for a tenderfoot.”

At points along the riverbanks the heavy timber thinned out into lush meadowland, carpeted with wild flowers in every color of the rainbow. Frank and Joe were amazed at the dazzling display.

“It's like a giant garden!” Joe said admiringly.

Ted pointed out many of the species by name—alpine forget-me-nots, fireweed with its tall reddish spires, yellow Arctic poppies, bluebells, creeping dogwood, and purple irises.

Steering close to shore, he reached out and plucked several flowers from a mass of yellow
blooms that grew down to the water's edge. “Monkey flowers,” he told Joe.

“They do look like little faces,” Joe said with a chuckle.

After paddling for several hours, they reached an area where the banks of the Kooniak rose in rocky walls. The beetling cliffs formed a canyon for the swift-flowing icy waters.

“Hey, look!” Joe cried suddenly, pointing up at one of the cliff faces. “There's a white streak in the rock! Could it be part of a dinosaur?”

When Joe suggested investigating the streak, Ted and Frank agreed to moor the canoes and accompany him.

“It'll be a tough climb, though,” Ted warned.

“We can make it!” Joe urged enthusiastically.

They tied their canoes to a clump of rock, climbed out, then began scaling the cliff. Footholds were few. After skinning their arms and legs on the rugged outcroppings, they finally reached the whitish streak.

“I'm sure it's a bone!” Joe exclaimed.

All three examined it closely.

“Could be,” Ted agreed. “But ho do we get it out?”

“By the Indian method,” Frank suggested. “Chip it loose with a sharp stone.”

Arming themselves with chunks of flint, the boys followed Frank's suggestion. Gradually more of the white object was revealed.

“I was right!” Joe exclaimed. “It's definitely a bone!”

“Looks like some kind of an elbow or knee joint,” Ted commented. “If dinosaurs had such things!”

“Wait till I get back and tell Mr. Turner about this find!” Joe said jubilantly.

Frank broke into a chuckle. “I bet he'll give you a medal!” he joked.

As the boys started down toward the canoes, their smiles faded. The steep cliff, which had been so difficult to climb, seemed almost impossible to descend.

Suddenly Joe gasped as he lost his footing. With a yell, he slid downward, making frantic attempts to slow his descent.

T
ED
acted instantly! Leaping out from the cliff, he dived into the water far below. After a few strong strokes, he reached the rocky shore and climbed to the foot of the slope.

Joe, tumbling and twisting, was almost at the bottom of the cliff. In the nick of time Ted caught hold of Joe, breaking his fall just short of a jagged rock formation.

The impact threw both boys to the flinty ground, where they lay panting and trembling for a few moments.

“Whew!” gasped Joe. “How can I thank you, Ted! Finding that dinosaur bone came close to killing me! If it hadn't been for you, my own bones would be in pretty bad shape by now!”

“Just a lucky catch,” Ted said with a grin.

Even so, Joe had suffered many bruises and his skin was scraped raw in several places.

Frank, who had tensely watched the rescue,
shouted, “I'll find a safer place to come down.”

By climbing higher and crossing a shelf of rock to a point farther upriver, he was able to make the descent in safety.

Ted, meanwhile, had opened their first-aid kit and applied medication to Joe's cuts.

“I never knew fossil hunting could be so dangerous!” Frank quipped wryly as he rejoined the other two.

“You can say that again!” Joe muttered, blowing on a particularly painful cut on his right knee.

After resting for fifteen minutes, the trio resumed the trip upriver. Although they watched both banks carefully, the boys saw no one, white man or Indian.

Toward evening they approached a small, wooded island in mid-river.

“Let's camp here,” Frank suggested. “It should make a pretty safe spot for the night.”

After paddling into a small cove, the travelers beached the canoes and scouted the island thoroughly before unloading their gear.

Soon a campfire was crackling and the aroma of hot corned beef and fried potatoes drifted over the island. After supper the boys chose watch periods. Joe drew the first assignment. Frank and Ted stretched out in their sleeping bags and were soon asleep. All were thoroughly refreshed by daybreak, although Joe was still somewhat stiff and sore.

Breakfast over, the canoeists pushed on. An hour of paddling brought them to an open spot on the west bank, where the clustering pines gave way to a narrow clearing.

“Hold it!” Ted cried, signaling with his paddle. “That's an Indian trail!”

“It might lead to the Haida camp,” Joe conjectured.

Frank was certain of this. “Let's go ashore and get Fleetfoot,” he urged.

“Think our gear will be safe here?” Joe asked as they drew the canoes up on the riverbank.

“Better not take any chances,” Frank replied. “I vote we cache our supplies and each of the canoes in a separate spot.”

Joe and Ted concurred, and in twenty minutes the boys had everything well hidden under heaps of brush and rocks. Then they headed inland along the trail. Soon they came upon the Haida village.

As they neared the cluster of wooden huts, the sound of excited voices reached their ears. A crowd of Indians were swarming about the village clearing.

The boys stopped short in astonishment at an amazing sight. A woman, wearing a green fringed parka, shot straight upward at least thirty feet above the crowd! She was treading air to remain upright!

Seconds later, she landed on both feet in a
walrus skin held by six men. They immediately snapped the hide taut and catapulted her up in the air again!

“Good night!” Joe gasped. “What do they think she is—a human medicine ball?”

A slender young Indian turned at the sound of Joe's voice. It was Fleetfoot. He ran toward them with a wide-eyed look of fear. “Quick! Do not let my people see you!” he whispered. “Run for your lives!”

The boys looked puzzled, and Frank said, “Why? Your tribe was friendly enough the other time we came to your village.”

“Today we are having a wedding,” Fleetfoot explained. “That woman is the bride. She is a Kotzebue Eskimo, and now she is proving to everyone that she will be a good,
skookum
wife!”

“By letting them bounce her on that walrus hide?” Joe asked.

Fleetfoot nodded impatiently. “It is a custom of her people. And today any outsiders who come here must do the same! But it takes much practice. You would break your neck!”

“Wow!” Ted gulped. “We'd better clear out of here! Come on!”

But the boys tarried too long. Hearing their voices, the Indians swarmed toward them excitedly. Before the Hardys and Ted could take to their heels, they were dragged into the circle of yelling, whooping Haidas!

Joe gasped. “What do they think she is—a human medicine ball?”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Frank pleaded, striving to make himself heard above the uproar.

“When white men come to village, they must join in wedding games too!” a brave asserted. He pointed to Frank. “This one is biggest, looks plenty strong. He will try test with walrus hide!”

The brave explained the rules. Frank would be bounced in the air three times. If he managed to land upright after three tries, he was
skookum.

Frank stared at the speaker unbelievingly.

Ignoring the protests of Joe, Ted, and Fleetfoot, the Indians seized Frank and hustled him onto the walrus hide. Then the hide was raised aloft and snapped taut. Frank went hurtling high in the air!

He tried frantically to tread air with his hands and feet as he had seen the woman do. But the dizzying momentum of his flight upward seemed to rob him of his sense of balance. Twisting helplessly, Frank plummeted back toward the walrus hide and landed on his back with jarring force.

Stunned, he struggled to his feet. The Indians gave him a moment's respite, then again hurled him aloft!

Joe and Ted watched, wide-eyed and helpless. For a second, Frank seemed to be dancing on air. Then, thrashing violently, he came down again, this time landing on one side.

Badly shaken, Frank managed to stand up. His last chance! Although his heart was hammering,
he gritted his teeth, determined not to fail. Once more the Indians catapulted him.

Joe could scarcely bear to watch. Ted clutched his arm in breathless suspense.

Arrowing straight upward, Frank closed his eyes, keeping his arms close to his sides. As he reached his highest point in mid-air, he opened his eyes again. The circle of Indians stood far below, gaping up at him, the walrus hide seeming not much bigger than a handkerchief.

Frank felt himself begin to fall, slowly at first, then at higher speed. He stretched out his arms and trod the air gently, like a man on a unicycle. It worked! He landed squarely on both feet, still upright!

The crowd roared its approval! Frank was lifted off the walrus hide, hoisted onto the shoulders of two Indians, and paraded about the village clearing amid whoops and yells.

“You
skookum
fella!” The Haida chief beamed when he was finally allowed to stand on his own feet again. “Now you and two friends all come to the wedding feast!”

“Thanks,” Frank replied, a trifle weakly. Joe and Ted, then Fleetfoot, wrung his hand in congratulation.

“Terrific!” Joe told his brother.

“I just kept thinking of what else they might do to me.” Frank grinned.

“It's a wonder you could think at all after those first two jolts!” Ted exclaimed.

The villagers now gathered about a great central campfire. Two medicine men performed a religious dance, then the chief joined the hands of the Indian groom and his Eskimo bride. The wedding feast followed.

Squaws brought huge carved wooden platters heaped with food. The first course consisted of slabs of pink salmon.

“Good night! It's raw!” Joe whispered.

The boys took some, however, in order not to offend their hosts, and managed to eat a few bites. The bear steaks and stewed rabbit which followed were more to their liking. These were accompanied by nuts, berries, vegetables, and fruits, including one with a citrus flavor, which tasted like a cross between lemon and grapefruit. Ted identified it as the fruit of the wild rose.

“Boy, now we're getting fancy!” Joe chuckled as he sampled the fruit's delicate flavor.

There was also something that looked like coarse baked bread. “Wonder what it's made out of,” Frank muttered, after trying a few bites.

Fleetfoot explained, “Women make flour by grinding up bulbs of rice lily.” He pointed to some brownish-purple flowers which several of the squaws wore in their hair. “Those are flowers from the same plant.”

When the feast was over, the Hardys at last
found an opportunity to tell Fleetfoot about their trip upriver. Frank asked if the Indian youth would accompany them as guide.