Most fortunately the coast, was well wooded; the hills which sloped down towards the sea were crowned with green trees, amongst which the pine predominated. Some of the woods might even be called forests, and would constitute an admirable reserve of timber for the fort. Here and there Hobson noticed isolated groups of willows, poplars, dwarf birch-trees, and numerous thickets of arbutus. At this time of the warm season all these trees were covered with verdure, and were an unexpected and refreshing sight to eyes so long accustomed to the rugged, barren polar landscape. The ground at the foot of the hills was carpeted with a short herbage devoured with avidity by the reindeer, and forming their only sustenance in winter. On the whole, then, the Lieutenant had reason to congratulate himself on having chosen the northwest of the American continent for the foundation of a new settlement.
We have said that these territories, so rich in animals, were apparently deserted by men. The travellers saw neither Eskimo, who prefer the districts round Hudson’s Bay, nor Indians, who seldom venture so far beyond the Arctic Circle. And indeed in these remote latitudes hunters may be overtaken by storms, or be suddenly surprised by winter, and cut off from all communication with their fellow-creatures. We can easily imagine that Lieutenant Hobson was by no means sorry not to meet any rival explorers. What he wanted was an unoccupied country, a deserted land, suitable as a refuge for the fur-bearing animals; and in this matter he had the full sympathy of Mrs. Barnett, who, as the guest of the Company, naturally took a great interest in the success of its schemes.
Fancy, then, the disappointment of the Lieutenant, when on the morning of the 20th June he came to an encampment but recently abandoned.
It was situated at the end of a narrow creek called Darnley Bay, of which Cape Parry is the westernmost point. There at the foot of a little hill were the stakes which had served to mark the limits of the camp, and heaps of cinders, the extinct embers of the fires.
The whole party met at this encampment, and all understood how great a disappointment it involved for Lieutenant Hobson.
“What a pity!” he exclaimed. “I would rather have met a whole family of polar bears!”
“But I daresay the men who encamped here are already far off,” said Mrs. Barnett; “very likely they have returned to their usual hunting grounds.”
“That is as it may be,” replied the Lieutenant. “If these be the traces of Eskimo, they are more likely to have gone on than to have turned back; and if they be those of Indians, they are probably, like ourselves, seeking a new hunting district; and in either case it will be very unfortunate for us.”
“But,” said Mrs. Barnett, “cannot we find out to what race the travellers do belong? Can’t we ascertain if they be Eskimo or Indians from the south? I should think tribes of such a different origin, and of such dissimilar customs, would not encamp in the same manner.”
Mrs. Barnett was right; they might possibly solve the mystery after a thorough examination of the ground.
Jaspar Hobson and others set to work, carefully examining every trace, every object left behind, every mark on the ground; but in vain, there was nothing to guide them to a decided opinion. The bones of some animals scattered about told them nothing, and the Lieutenant, much annoyed, was about to abandon the useless search, when he heard an exclamation from Mrs. Joliffe, who had wandered a little way to the left.
All hurried towards the young Canadian, who remained fixed to the spot, looking attentively at the ground before her.
As her companions came up she said—
“You are looking for traces, Lieutenant; well, here are some.”
And Mrs. Joliffe pointed to a good many footprints clearly visible in the firm clay.
These might reveal something; for the feet of the Indians and Eskimo, as well as their boots, are totally different from each other.
But what chiefly struck Lieutenant Hobson was the strange arrangement of these impressions. They were evidently made by a human foot, a shod foot; but, strange to say, the ball alone appeared to have touched the ground! The marks were very numerous, close together, often crossing one another, but confined to a very small circle.
Jaspar Hobson called the attention of the rest of the party to this singular circumstance.
“These were not made by a person walking,” he said.
“Nor by a person jumping,” added Mrs. Barnett; “for there is no mark of a heel.”
“No,” said Mrs. Joliffe; “these footprints were left by a dancer.”
She was right, as further examination proved. They were the marks left by a dancer, and a dancer engaged in some light and graceful exercise, for they were neither clumsy nor deep.
But who could the lighthearted individual be who had been impelled to dance in this sprightly fashion some degrees above the Arctic Circle?
“It was certainly not an Eskimo,” said the Lieutenant.
“Nor an Indian,” cried Corporal Joliffe.
“No, it was a Frenchman,” said Sergeant Long quietly.
And all agreed that none but a Frenchman could have been capable of dancing on such a spot.
XII
The Midnight Sun
Sergeant Long’s assertion must appear to have been founded on insufficient evidence. That there had been dancing no one could deny, but that the dancer was a Frenchman, however probable, could not be considered proved.
However, the Lieutenant shared the opinion of his subordinate, which did not appear too positive to any of the party, who all agreed in feeling sure that some travellers, with at least one compatriot of Vestris amongst them, had recently encamped on this spot.
Of course Lieutenant Hobson was by no means
