Newspapers / The Elkin Tribune (Elkin, … / Feb. 18, 1937, edition 1 / Page 2
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Hi SECOND INSTALLMENT SYNOPSIS: Ellen Mackay, on her way from school at Winnipeg, to join her father at Fort Edson, misses the boat by which she was to travel. Hearing that another boat is to start north in the morning, Ellen goes to the owner, John Benham, and begs him to give her a passage. To her sur prise he flatly refuses. '"Hiis is Angus Mackay's lass, Pierre," announced Pat. Pierre Buschard murmured A sonorous greeting and bowed clumsily. Ellen smiled and advanced close to the giant riverman. "You are going to help me, Pierre?" "Oui, oui, mam'selle," rumbled the big fellow. "M'sieu Benham, he's be mad lak* wolf at Pierre Buschard, but Pierre do w'at he can. You come wit' Pierre now Radio Service BY AN EXPERT , RADIO SERVICE MAN Complete Line of Tubes and Parts Hayes & Speas (Incorporated) PHONE 70 1 ELKIN, N. C. Pint I Aspirin Mineral Tablets 39c Pii 39c —— Fountain Syringe ____ mS.I 69c 50 ■— OH Hot Wale, BoMk /> A Fit Gillette 69c >9C Razor —— Alarm Clocks 49C Half-Gallon jm A Mineral Cleansing 011 Old Indian Tissue s| .25 Health Tonic 500 Sheets 1 Gallon ~ —— Mineral Pepsodent _ T Oil Antiseptic Ny-Naps Two 50c Bottles For Box '2 M 51c 39c Vanilla i A Cage Qf Epsom Extract t 21 Salts 8 Ounces Mistaken 5 Pounds For 39C 3§ C Gem MfflH/\) Cod Razors W fWSI Liver 25c * 011 POOR fellow; His Pint mmmmmmmm—m friends all {MISS him by. Pint Think he's a bum; an ||i|C ~ « oM Alcohol Someone ought to tell Quart _ A him about the fine cold 19c Si" Ket by $1.19 pP J1 1 IE Mnpßl B sHf fjpf {MI J TK? J mm ppi gggtijilPJßfc. HB jrlll L^PBB mam'selle, and we must be quiet lak* lynx w'en he stalk dat rab bit." Ellen, victim to a sudden tu multuous thrill, scurried away and donned her mackinaw and cap. Back in the big room she stood on her tiptoes and pecked Pat Mc- Clatchney on one whiskery cheek with her red pursed lips. "11l re member this, Pat," she promised. " "Tis little enough, lass. Now stick to your guns and I gamble this will come out Well enough. I feel sure of safety, for whatever else he may be, John Benham is a gentleman and the finest river man in the north. Now run along with Pierre and do Just as he says. He has already taken care of your luggage." Pat gave Ellen's arm a squeeze and shook hands with Pierre Buschard. The next thing Ellen knew Pierre had taken her by the elbow and was guiding her steps down the sloping bank of the river. It vas still out there, vastly except for the ceaseless beat of the river, while the night throbbed to the power of the limitless wilder ness which stretched away to thf north. A faint, haunting, quaver ing note drifted down from among the massed stars. The geese were winging north. All things were heading north, even she! Ellen found herself thrilling with a strange, wild ecstasy. There was a big Peterborough eanoe pulled up on the shore, and in the bow of this Pierre placed the girl. Then he shoved off , bal ancing himself deftly in the-Stem, while he lifted and dipped a gleaming paddle. The buoyant craft trembled before the grip of the river, but headed against the current and stole silently up stream. Ahead a jutting point loomed. Still as a wind-blown shadow they rounded the point and drift ed bandwards again. Uncouth shapes took form in the night. El len recognized the loaded scows of John Benhams' brigade. The canoe drifted in and gently nosed the nearest scow. Silently Pierre Buschard stepped to the scow and held the Peterborough firm, v "Come, mam'selle," he whisper ed. Ellen stepped out beside him. Pierre indicated the massed cargo of freight upon the scow. He lift ed up one edge of the tarpaulin which covered the pile. "Under here," he breathed. "You must hide. For a day and a night you must hide, mam'selle. Den we will shoot dat Cascade Rapid. M'sieu Benham, she's not send you back after dat. I have put dat food and water and blankets, mam'selle. And Pierre, he's watch out for you." Ellen gripped Pierre's huge paw with both her slim hands. "You are kind, Pierre," she murmured. "I will never forget this." "Bien," he grinned. "She's make me happy to help, mam'selle. You hide now, quick." Her heart beating thunderously, Ellen crept beneath the edge of the tarpaulin and crouched quiet ly. She felt the slight quiver of the scow as Pierre left it. Alone now. Alone! Definitely committed to the great adventure. The fu ture might bring—anything, but queerly enough, Ellen felt no fear. Only a stirring anticipation. She remembered those strange, marvellously clear, almost hyp notic eyes of John Benham. The next time they rested on her— what would they mirror? Surprise, yes. Anger—almost surely. Yet Ellen felt comfort somehow. It was cozy there in the dark ness beneath the tarpaulin. She stirred and felt about her. Then she blessed simple, big-hearted Pierre Buschard. For, in a crevice between the massed bales and boxes of the cargo was a bundle of food and the sleek, chill con tours of a jar of water. Ellen snuggled down into the blankets, covering herself with the warm, comforting folds. After a bit she relaxed all tension. The scow rose ?;id fell to the surge of the river, creaking and complain ing at its tether like a blooded horse, anxious to be gone. Ellen's thoughts grew dreamy and clouded with sweet languor. The scow became a cradle and the great mysterious force of the river a gentle hand to rock it. Presently she slept. When Ellen Mariay awoke again it was with a start and a short gasp of surprise. For a mo ment she scarcely knew where she was. Then all that had happen ed during the night came back to her and she relaxed. Close be side her a deep voice was boom ing. A moment she listened, then smiled. Her pertubation left her. In its place came a flood of warm dancing thrills. She began hum ming softly, keeping time with the cadence of the song the deep chested riverman was singing. It was the old wild song of the riwer brigades, the Chanson de Voya geur. And it meant that the scows of John Benham's brigade were at last freed of their tethers; that they were now part and parcel of the great spring migration into the distant wilderness of the Three River Country. Tl» chill of early morning was still in the air. and Ellen was grateful for the warmth of her blankets. She lay there quietly, queerly content. Strange the tran sition wrought within the space of two short weeks. She thought of the school life she had left be hind her; of the c6mpanionship, the gaity, the luxury. A far cry indeed from her present position. Yet she knew no regret. It all seemed queerly vague and lack ing in outline, somewhat like a half-remembered dream. Sudden ly she realized that the inexplica ble restlessness which had ac tuated her during those four years of nostalgia. It had been her own had been nothing else but a form country; the far country, that had been calling to her. And now she was going home! Presently the riverman ceased his song, and then all the multi tude of lesser sounds became manifest. The hoarse, throaty mutter of the river; the endless song of adventuring waters; the creak of stout timbers; the rasp of hard-swung sweeps against the iholc pins. Once the shrill hunt ing scream of the osprey echoed. Several times she heard the soft shuffle of moccasined feet pass tog close beside her hiding place. At first these sounds were sooth ing. but with a passing hour or two, restlessness seized the crouching girl.- Her hiding place was far from uncomfortable, but it was Irksome to remain so still and quiet when every fibre of her being called for freedom and ac tion. She began avidly to crave sight of that world which lay just beyond the thin covering of canvas. It was the rising sun which made Ellens' position particular ly uncomfortable. The heat, un der that canvas grew thick and heavy. Before long she was bath ed in perspiration, and she drank often of the water the thoughtful Pierre Buschard had provided. The crawling hours seemed intol erably long. She did her best to sleep those hours away, but a fit ful doze was the best she could ac complish. By the time nightfall brought blessed coolness again her head was aching and her muscles tormented with the inactiviey. But when, by the Mforts and shouting of the Cree Indians, she knew the scows were being darped into the bank to tie up for the night, re newed energy came again to her, and she smiled in triumph. One more cool, friendly night in hid ing. and in the morning the brig ade would shoot the Cascade 'Rapid. After that she would be safe in making her presence known to John Benham. For, once, below the rapid, he could not send her back without expensive delay and labor. The scows were in movement when Ellen awoke on the follow ing morning. Again some member of the crew, invigorated by the sparkling dawn, was roaring out the river song. And again the river was speaking to her, though a new note had entered its voice. At first it was only a distant throb, but as time went on the throb be came a deep rumbling roar. Cas cade Rapids! Fresh activity arose on the scows. Directions and advice were shouted back and forth. The creak of sweps on tholee pins be came steadier, firmer. The scows began to pitch and rock. Ellen, even in her walled-in covert, could feel the increase in speed. The thunder of the rapids arose to crashing proportions. Then it seemed as though a gi ant hand grasped the scow and hurled it out into utter chaos. Mad waters! The hoarse, quiv ering roar of the pent river beast, battling the barriers of confine ment. Spray arose to tingle the lungs. The scow leaped and danc ed like the merest cockleshell. If men were snouting noto, then their voices were being beaten back at their lips. Ellen was not frightened. Rath er was she thrilled to her finger tips. Hers was the true pioneer blood, which beat rich and strong and vibrant in the battle with natural forces. Abruptly she swept aside the tarpaulin and stepped forth. Confinement had become intolerable. The men at the sweeps did not seem to notice her. With quick, thrilling steps she ran to the front of the scow and brac ed herself there. Spray drenched her, the wind of their speed clutched at her face, her throat, her hair, her clothes, whipping the latter tight about her slim, valiant figure. Presently Ellen turned. The crew spied her now, stolid, dark, stoic-faced Cree Indians, and they stared at her in shy unwinking amazement. Eyes from other scows had marked her presence also, and she saw Pierre Buschard grinning broadly and waving at her. Then one of the big craft headed 4n towards her own. When the scows were still a good three yards apart a big, bare-headed figure cleared the space in one clean leap of splendidly co-ordi nated muscles, and a moment later John Benham was beside her. "Well," he said slowly, his voice steady and deep. "I see you've won. And by the grin on Pierre Buschard I can guess how you did it." Ellen's courage came back with a rush. She smiled. "I was des perate," she answered'. "It was the only way. I hope you wili not be angry with Pierre. He was very kind. And as I said at first—l wiL" pay you well for your trouble." Benham raised a depreciating hand. A queer hardness twisted his mouth and a certain glint of triumph shone in his eyes. "My payment is already assured," he said grimly. "I'm a good hater. I'll exact my pound of flesh." Ellen stared at him. In a space of seconds he had become some how stern and savage. A ripple of fear shot through her. It couldn't "i>3i't worry 'personally," he stated with a swift, harsh laugh, reading her .thoughts with discon certing ease. "You'll be quite safe. And Pierre Is an old and valued friend. He meant well." A crimson tide again flowed across Ellen's face. "Thank you," she said stiffly. "I'm not afraid." Still Coughing? No matter how many medicines you have tried for your cough, chest cold or bronchial irritation, you can get relief now with Creomulsion. Serious trouble may be brewing and. yon cannot afford to take a chance with anything "less than Creomul slon, which goes right to the seat of the trouble to aid native to soothe and heal the inflamed mem branes as the germ-laden phlegm la loosened and expelled. Even if other remedies hare failed, dent be discouraged, your money if you are act satisfied with wisulta from the very first bottle. Get Qreomulrton right now. (Adv.) Benham nodded and turned away. Going back to the crew he snapped a few terse orders. The Crees leaned muscular bodies against the sweeps and under Benham's directions drove the scow up to the bank and tethered it there. Ellen's uneasiness grew. Was he going to send back after all? Was her triumph to be so short lived? Then she breathed more Nobody Knows Better tTHAN YOUR OWN FURNACE THAT IT PAYS TO BUY GREAT HEART COAL You get more heat and comfort with less fuel when you use Grea* Heart coal. And your own furnace profits accordingly! It holds a constant temperature, does away with soot and dust, and makes few calls on your attention. Great Heart, with less than a bushel of ashes to the ton, provides the utmost in heating satisfaction. Coal Is Cash. FOR HEALTHIER, HAPPIER HOME LIFE \ YOU SHOULD HAVE THESE NECESSITIES: Automatic Butler Coal Protane (Natural) Gas Stoker and Appliances Progress Refrigerators Pure, Deep Well Water Ice LISTEN IN , LISTEN IN Tuesday and Thursdays, 11:45 a. m. Each Wednesday, 10:30 p. m. 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Benham, axe in hand, had leaped ashore and was swinging the gleaming blade in swift, pow erful strokes among the slender poles of a dwarf birch thicket, m ten minutes' time he had felled and trimmed a full dozen of the tapering poles and had passed them aboard. A moment later the scow was again out in the river, scudding northward. Continued Next Issue Thursday, Ewruary 18, 1937 £ £ ft COLDS WOO fetor Ltauid. Tablets toy Salve, Nose Drops Headaohe, SO minutes Try " Rub-My-Ttem"-World's Best Liniment Read Tribune Advertisements!
The Elkin Tribune (Elkin, N.C.)
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Feb. 18, 1937, edition 1
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