In this thrilling adventure, Rick and Scotty travel up to Hudson Bay as guests of the Canadian Wildlife Service to test Rick's new tracking collar system on the famed Hudson Bay area polar bears. Strange events begin to plague the boys even before t...
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A DHS BEAVER on skis in northern Canada in the late 1940s.
The fear in Pierre's eyes suddenly faded away to be replaced by the flame of anger. He pointed again to the back door.
"Go!" he commanded. "Sortir!"
Then he spun around and ran back amongst the tables, caroming his way toward the men who had come in search of them.
Rick and Scotty were frozen to the spot. The three big bearded men had just reached the table where the loud Indian and half-breed men were sitting. Like a bolt of lightning, Pierre flew out of the crowd and dove right into the oncoming men, knocking two of them off balance. One fell directly onto the crowded table of the revelers, upsetting their food and drink. The next moment there was complete uproar as the darker-skinned men jumped to their feet and began pushing and shoving the ones who had come from the Red Death.
Scotty blinked as the shouts rose and fists began to fly, and he stepped forward. "Hey, we've got to help Pierre!"
Rick's face was as hard as flint. He grabbed hold of Scotty's arm and pulled him back. "He's on his own now. We have to get out of here. Those guys are after us."
Scotty frowned disbelief, then his expression turned to a scowl. It wasn't in his nature to abandon a friend in trouble. But Rick won out, pulling the bigger boy down the hall.
"Something's going on," Rick said roughly, as he banged open the back door. "We don't understand it. We don't know what it is. But if Pierre says those men will kill us, I believe him. Let's scram!"
They hadn't run ten feet when Scotty remembered, "Doggone it! Our snowshoes!"
Rick groaned in response. "We'll have to do without them. We don't have time to go back out front."
Slipping and sliding, the boys ran over to the trail that led through the woods. As soon as they were on the trampled-down snow, the going was easier and they sped on, flinging a look now and then over their shoulders.
"Why in the world would the Red Death be after us?" Scotty huffed in bewilderment, grim-lipped.
"They may have identified us from last night," Rick suggested, "because we helped Pierre in the alley."
"But how ..."
"Pierre's uncle could've told them we were tourists come over from Winnipeg. They could've checked the downtown hotels. It'd make sense that the two boys in the restaurant would be the same ones out back in the alley a few minutes later."
"Could be," Scotty agreed reluctantly. "Uh ... maybe they're afraid we know too much if we were there on hand to help Pierre?"
Rick ducked a snow-laden spruce bough sticking out into the trail. His mind was making a swift summary of events. "But I think it's more than that, Scotty. I think they're after us because we have something they want."
