Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Delphine Lettau, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net [Illustration: THEN HE GRIPPED HIS WEAPON BY THE MUZZLE, AND SPRANG STRAIGHT FOR THE PACK. _See page 175._ ] THE FIERY TOTEM A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE CANADIAN NORTH-WEST BY ARGYLL SAXBY, M.A., F.R.G.S. AUTHOR OF "BRAVES, WHITE AND RED" "COMRADES THREE!" "TANGLED TRAILS" ETC. ETC. _SECOND IMPRESSION_ LONDON THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY 4 BOUVERIE STREET AND 65 ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. A PERILOUS PASSAGE 5 II. DEER-STALKING 14 III. THE LONELY CAMP 22 IV. FRIENDS OR FOES? 33 V. LOST IN THE FOREST 41 VI. THE MEDICINE MAN 53 VII. THE FRIEND IN NEED 67 VIII. NIGHT IN THE WIGWAM 83 IX. THE TEMPTATION 96 X. A DEATH-TRAP 104 XI. TO THE RESCUE! 115 XII. CRAFTY TACTICS 130 XIII. THE PRICE OF A ROBE 142 XIV. THE BATTLE OF WITS 151 XV. OFF! 165 XVI. A NIGHT'S TERROR 172 XVII. THE FATE OF RED FOX 181 XVIII. HOT ON THE TRAIL 191 XIX. THUNDER-MAKER'S DOWNFALL 205 XX. THE FIERY TOTEM 217 THE FIERY TOTEM CHAPTER I A PERILOUS PASSAGE "Well, good-bye, boys! You won't go far from camp before we return, will you?" The speaker was one of two men seated in an Indian canoe. He gripped the forward paddle, while his companion at the stern added cheerfully-- "The backwoods is not the City of London. There are no policemen to appeal to if you lose your way. Besides, we hope to find dinner waiting for our return. Hunting lost sons is not the same sport as hunting moose." Both the boys laughed at the elder man's remark, and one--Bob Arnold by name--answered-- "Don't worry about us, father. Alf and I can take care of ourselves for half a day. Can't we, Alf?" "Rather," the younger chum replied. "It's our respected parents who'll need to take care of themselves in unknown waters in that cockleshell." Then he called out merrily, imitating the tone of the first speaker--his father: "Take care of yourselves, dads! Remember the Athabasca River is not Regent Street!" "Cheeky youngster!" returned the elder man banteringly, as he struck the forward paddle into the water. "There's not much of the invalid left about you after three months' camping." Then with waving hands and pleasant chaffing, that showed what real good chums the quartette were, the men struck out for the centre of the river, leaving their sons watching from the strand before the camp that was pitched beneath the shadow of the great pine trees.