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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Chikchak Charlie and the boys pushed on through the woods back in the direction of the caribou trail, accompanied only by the crunch and creak of the snow beneath their feet. Otherwise, the deep silence of the forest hovered around them. Rick noticed that the heavy gloom had lifted and that it was not quite so dark and dim as it had been earlier, although by no means had it lightened up any substantial amount. It was the barest of differences, but in this land any little change in condition, no matter how small, was a reason to take note.
There was no further sign of the Iglitaks. Obviously they had run off to a distant point and Rick, with the thoughtfulness that was habitual to him, contented himself with the knowledge that he and his companions were now safe from the deadly enemy.
"This trail is dead end," Charlie told them. "It goes only to area of cage trap. I follow it once before but get nowhere pretty darn fast. We take another trail up ahead. It goes north to small river valley and my cabin."
At length they turned onto the caribou trail, heading west again. Scotty and Charlie wielded their rifles aggressively in case of any sudden surprises. On they plodded for about ten minutes through the dense timber until they arrived at the branching trail Charlie had mentioned.
"We go this way," he instructed, turning down the trodden path. "Indians use for hunting and trap lines. A lot much traffic here, and I don't mean mebbe. Like highway in big city."
Rick and Scotty chuckled at the comparison. There was not a soul to be seen. However, the snow was nicely trampled down and they didn't have to experience the killing labor of breaking a trail. Little passed between them as they traveled across country wrapped in the silence of the winter trail.
Presently, Scotty let out a croak of surprise as they came upon some evidence of the 'traffic' Charlie had talked about.
He pointed into the woods. "Howzabout? Somebody made camp there recently. Last night, probably."
He swung into the brush and trudged through to the site, which was about twenty feet off-trail and in a small clearing in the dense undergrowth. Rick and Charlie followed.
"Someone stayed here, all right," Rick said in acknowledgment as they looked around.
There were the charred remains of a campfire, half-burned pieces of wood tossed around helter-skelter. The imprints of dog paws and the impressions made by sled runners told them that a dogsled had been at hand. The campsite was overall untidy, left in disarray, with tin cans, utensils, and an old coffee pot lying in the snow by the remnants of the fire.
Chikchak Charlie grunted. "Someone leave in hurry, on the double. Or I'mee don't know what talkin' about!"
Rick frowned, puckering his brows as he looked at the heavily trampled snow. It looked as if there had been a dozen or so people hopping and jumping around. Small trees and branches in the surrounding undergrowth had been tramped on and were flattened and broken. Scotty saw that he was giving the matter careful thought.
