CHAPTER V.THE FACE IN THE TREES.
The night passed without alarm. In the morning the cold was more intense than ever, and the sky was still overcast with sullen-looking clouds.
During the forenoon the boys put a few extra touches to the cabin, and gathered enough fuel to last for several days. After dinner Brick and Hamp chopped holes through the ice, and caught a number of fat pickerel. Jerry took his gun, and trudged into the woods. He returned with a brace of spruce partridges.
Toward evening the wind shifted to the east, and it grew even colder. The boys put an extra layer of boughs on the cabin floor, and got all their blankets out. The only comfortable part was around the fire.
Just before supper a bird flew out of the forest and over the camp. It alighted in some bushes near the verge of the jutting headland. Jerry snatched his gun, and hurried after it across the ice.
When he reached the spot he saw something that drove the bird entirely from his mind. Nearly a mile down the lake two black specks were visible. They were moving slowly toward the western shore.
Jerry summoned his companions by a cautious shout.
“Bring your field-glasses, Brick,” he added.
When the boys arrived, Jerry pointed out the far-away objects. Brick had the glasses—a long-range pair purchased at Bangor. Each took a turn at them.
“Hullo, those things are only men,” said Brick, in a tone of relief. “I was afraid they were wild animals.”
“They are odd-looking chaps for this neighborhood,” replied Jerry. “They ain’t dressed like trappers or hunters. They have guns, though, and there’s a hand-sled trailing behind them.”
“I wish we could make out their faces,” said Hamp. “They’ve come across the lake, just as we did.”
“Perhaps they are following us,” suggested Brick, uneasily.
“Hardly,” replied Jerry. “Where are they now, Hamp?”
“Just climbing the bank. Now they’ve disappeared in the woods.”
And Hamp lowered the glasses, and restored them to Brick.
After some futile discussion of the mystery, the boys went back to camp. It was natural that they should feel a little curious and alarmed. Ruffianly characters are often encountered in the Maine wilderness.
When supper was over the boys cheered up. They washed the dishes, and then built a roaring fire of great logs directly in front of the cabin. With blankets wrapped about their shoulders they sat beside the flames.
All at once Hamp sprang in excitement to his feet. He pointed toward the lower side of the ravine.
“Look!” he cried. “Oh! it’s gone now. I saw a face peeping from behind the trees.”
“What did the fellow look like?” demanded Jerry.
“I don’t know,” was the reply. “He was only there for a couple of seconds. He had savage, black eyes, and no mustache or beard. The fire shone right on him.”
“Well, we’ve got to investigate this thing,” declared Jerry. “Come on, fellows.”
They delayed enough to get their guns and to light a lantern. Then they boldly climbed the bank of the ravine, and poked about among the trees.
But not a trace of the intruder could be found. There were no footprints on the few bare patches of snow.
“Are you sure you weren’t mistaken?” asked Jerry.
“Not a bit of it,” replied Hamp, indignantly. “I saw the face as plainly as I see yours now.”
The boys listened in silence for a moment, and then they made another short search. In all directions were dense thickets of undergrowth. Through this a man on snowshoes might easily have fled without leaving a trail.
“We may as well go back,” said Jerry. “We can’t find the spy, whoever he was.”
For the next half-hour nothing else was talked about. Hamp was positive that he had seen the face, and his companions believed him. All were uneasy and scared. They knew that had the stranger been an honest man he would have shown himself. His spying actions and hasty flight seemed to indicate some evil design.
“We’ll have to be on the watch, that’s all,” said Hamp.“The fellow was probably looking for a chance to steal something.”
“I don’t believe he’ll come back,” replied Brick. “He knows by this time that we’re not to be trifled with.”
About nine o’clock Jerry slipped away on the pretext of getting a drink. He took an ax with him, but instead of pausing to chop the ice he went on to the headland.
Here he quickly climbed a tall pine tree. From its top he could look down the lake and over the surrounding forest. But all was dark and silent. Nowhere was the gleam of a campfire visible.
He concluded that the strangers had pushed on into the wilderness, and were no longer in the vicinity. With a relieved mind he descended from the tree and started back. He was now really thirsty, so he stopped to get a drink.
There were pretty deep shadows around him, for the timbered sides of the ravine kept the glow of the campfire shut in from the ice. He found a spot that had been chopped open at supper time, and was since frozen over to the thickness of several inches. He stooped down, ax in hand.
Just as he dealt the first stroke a low, mewling cry caused him to look up. Out on the lake, and less than twenty feet distant, crouched a long, grayish beast. With stealthy steps it came nearer and nearer, whipping its thin tail over the snow.
Jerry uttered one terrific screech that echoed far and wide through the forest. He flung the ax madly toward the creature, and, without pausing to look behind, dashedfor camp at his top speed. The beast was actually in pursuit, but it stopped at a distance of thirty feet, and uttered a yowl of disappointment.
Brick and Hamp had armed themselves, having heard Jerry’s first yell of terror. Hamp lifted his rifle, and fired at random. He missed, of course, but the flash and the report scared the savage creature away.
It was a full minute before Jerry could talk intelligibly.
“It would have scared the bravest man alive to be jumped on so suddenly,” he declared. “I was kneeling on the ice, and the brute nearly had me. Cracky! I thought I was a goner.”
“What was it?” asked Hamp. “A catamount?”
“Yes; the biggest one I ever saw. You can bet he’s hungry, and savage, too.”
“Do you think it’s the same animal that was after us night before last?” asked Brick.
“I reckon so,” Jerry admitted, reluctantly. “It must have come across the ice. There’s just one thing about it, fellows. If we expect to have any peace we’ve got to kill the creature.”
“That’s easier said than done,” replied Hamp. “I wish I had taken careful aim when I had the chance. Now the measly varmint will lurk around here all night, and keep us from sleeping.”
“We’ll do our best to put him to sleep with a bullet,” declared Jerry. “Keep a stiff upper lip, Brick. We’ve got long odds on our side.”
“I’m not afraid,” Brick protested, stoutly. “I can kill a catamount as easy as a deer if I get the chance.”
It was the chance that was wanting, however. Evidently, the beast had no intention of being killed. He was hungry enough to hang onto the forlorn chance of a I meal, but not once did he show himself, though the boys I lay behind the fire for an hour, watching with cocked and I loaded rifles.
“The cunning fellow is lurking close by, you may be sure,” said Jerry. “If we watch long enough we’ll catch him in the act of snatching the deer.”
“It’s no fun to sit here in the cold,” replied Hamp, as he tossed a log on the fire. “How snug it looks inside the cabin. Confound that catamount!”
“You fellows turn in if you want to,” suggested Jerry. “I’ll keep guard for a couple of hours.”
“No; I’ll stick it out with you,” replied Hamp.
“And so will I,” added Brick.
Half an hour slipped away in silence. The drowsiness of the boys increased. They felt strongly tempted to go to bed, and leave the catamount in possession of the camp.
Suddenly they were startled to hear the dull report of a gun far back in the woods. Another shot followed, and then another.
“Something wrong,” exclaimed Hamp. “Those men must be camping within a mile or two of us.”
“That’s where the racket comes from,” admitted Jerry. “I can’t account for it, though.”
His lips framed the word murder, but he did not utter it.
“I hear something else,” declared Brick; “a sort of a roaring noise. It sounds like the wind among the trees.”
All listened intently.
“There’s no wind,” said Jerry, in a puzzled tone, “unless there’s a hurricane coming from the west. I know now what it means. It’s the howling of wolves, fellows.”
No one spoke. The assertion was too plain for denial. Nearer and louder rose the weird, moaning sounds. Howl answered howl. The ravenous scavengers of the forest were out on a night hunt for food.
“Yes, it is wolves,” muttered Hamp. “We ought never to have crossed the lake. The bitter weather has driven the pack down from Canada. Those brutes we saw yesterday were part of it.”
“Now they’re headed this way,” declared Jerry. “They must have attacked the camp of those two men, and been driven off. That’s what the shooting meant.”
“Can’t we climb trees?” Brick asked.
“If we do the catamount will likely climb after us,” replied Jerry. “Keep cool, fellows. A wolf is a born coward, and hates powder. We’ll give the pack a good dose of lead if they molest us. Have your rifles ready.”
The boys hurriedly built up the fire with great logs. Then, after a short discussion, they retreated to the cabin.
“This is the safest place,” said Hamp, as he barricaded the entrance with one of the sleds. “Tear a hole in that lower wall, Jerry. About as big as your head.”
As soon as the opening was made the boys crowded before it. It faced the direction from which the wolves seemed to be approaching, and commanded a view of the buck’s dangling carcass.
Closer on the frosty air rang the dismal howling of thewolves. They could be heard scurrying through the undergrowth. The boys waited, nervously fingering their rifles.
Suddenly a great, tawny beast sprang into full view from behind a rock. It was the hungry catamount. With a bound it fastened teeth and claws in the haunch of venison. It pulled it to the ground, and then dragged it lightly to the top of the bluff.
CHAPTER VI.BESIEGED BY WOLVES.
This daring theft was so quickly done and over that the boys had no chance to shoot. The venison could be plainly seen, but only the catamount’s ears and tail were visible as he crouched behind it.
“The impudent brute,” cried Brick. “That beats everything. We don’t want to lose the meat. Shall I try a shot?”
“Better let me,” replied Jerry. “I think I see a chance. Keep back a little.”
The boys moved aside, and Jerry poked his rifle through the hole. The hammer clicked. Then there was an anxious pause of half a minute.
“What’s wrong?” whispered Hamp.
“Can’t get a shot,” was the reply. “The brute has dropped lower, and won’t stir. Wait a bit,” Jerry added, as he withdrew the weapon. “You fellows are going to see the liveliest sight of your lives. Here come the wolves, and the catamount is growling like fury. He doesn’t intend to let himself be robbed of that venison.”
The boys all gathered before the hole, eager to witness the coming struggle. They were too excited to bother much about their own peril.
Now the hungry pack scented the savory meat. Thelong howls changed to quick, shrill yelps. They were very close.
All at once the flames danced up around the logs. The red glare flashed to the top of the bluff. The catamount had shifted his position, and the boys saw him plainly. His great jaws were open, and his tail lashed the brush angrily.
“What a chance!” whispered Jerry. “I could put a ball right through him.”
“Don’t spoil the fun,” pleaded Brick. “The wolves will make an end of the brute.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” muttered Hamp.
However, Jerry had no intention of interfering. The opportunity of ridding the boys of a relentless enemy was imprudently allowed to slip by.
An instant later the scene changed. Out from the—forest broke two shadowy gray forms, gaunt and ravenous with hunger. They darted at the venison, snarling defiance. There was a lightning-like bound, and a screech of fury.
For a few seconds the three animals were a shapeless, whirling tangle. Then the catamount tumbled out of the heap, and sprang back to the carcass. One wolf lay dead and mangled on the snow. The other limped into the forest with dismal wails.
But the balance of the pack were close by. Out they leaped in twos and threes, reckless of the firelight. White teeth gleamed and snapped in every crevice of the timber.
The catamount screeched, and quivered for a second attack. Then it altered its purpose. It seized the haunch of venison, and attempted to make off with it.
The wolves took this move for cowardice, and were emboldened. With a chorus of howls they closed in. The struggle that ensued was simply terrific. The catamount seemed to be everywhere at once. Its long, lithe body performed countless revolutions.
“Hurrah!” cried Brick, in great excitement. “This beats the old Roman shows. Do you think the catamount will be killed?”
“Not likely,” replied Jerry, “but he’ll lose the meat. There are too many against him.”
“That’s so,” exclaimed Hamp. “Look, fellows, look!”
Just then the catamount leaped clear over his circle of tormentors. With a screech of baffled fury he bounded into the bushy limbs of a tall pine tree. He made his way into an adjoining tree, and then vanished.
Three wolves lay struggling in their death agonies on the snow. Here and there limped crippled ones. The rest of the pack sprang at the venison with teeth and claws.
They muttered and yowled as they bit off great mouthfuls. New arrivals came swarming from the forest. Soon more than a score of the gaunt brutes were assembled around the carcass.
The bones of the deer were soon polished cleanly. Then the famished creatures attacked the bodies of their comrades. Tiring of this cannibalistic meal, they swerved to the edge of the glade, sniffed the air for a moment, and came leaping down the bank of the ravine. Thepatter of their feet was instantly all around the cabin. They brushed against the sides, and scratched at the interstices of the beams, howling and yelping like a troop of demons.
So sudden was the attack that the besieged lads were taken by complete surprise.
“We’ll be torn to pieces,” cried Brick. “They’ll be through the door in a minute.”
“No they won’t,” yelled. Jerry.
He hurled himself against the sled, which had actually begun to move.
“Keep cool, boys,” he added. “It’s our only chance. Fire away, and make every shot tell.”
Then he poked his rifle under the doorway, and pulled the trigger. The report was followed by a yelp of agony. The wolves fell back a little. They had a wholesome fear of firearms.
Jerry reloaded his rifle, and jammed shells into his double-barreled shotgun.
“I’ll guard this end,” he yelled, hoarsely. “You fellows must take care of that.”
“It’s an ugly outlook,” replied Hamp. “Here are your two guns, Brick. Keep them loaded. We’ve got four between us—six with Jerry’s. But where’s the ammunition?”
“Here,” and Brick tapped the cartridge belt that was strapped about his waist. “Help yourself, Hamp. Do you think we can pull through?”
There was no chance for reply. Jerry sounded a note of warning as the wolves came leaping at the cabin again.
A gaunt head suddenly shot through the aperture, and a pair of frothy jaws closed with a snap on the sleeve of Hamp’s jacket. Brick instantly reversed his rifle, and hit the brute a stunnning blow. The head vanished, and Hamp nervously examined his arm.
“Not a scratch,” he muttered. “You hit him just in time, Brick. Now I’ll pay the brute for his daring.”
He poked his shotgun out, and fired both barrels. Jerry joined in with a rattling fusillade.
“That hit something,” he shouted. “Half a dozen of the varmints were scratching at the sled. I thought it would give way.”
“We’ll beat them off yet,” gasped Brick. “Aren’t they savage, though? They don’t mind the fire a bit. Hullo! there’s a paw sticking through. Take that.”
“That” was a well-delivered charge of buckshot between the timbers of the cabin. A yelp of agony followed the report.
“Good!” applauded Jerry. “You’ll do.”
“Keep it up, fellows,” yelled Hamp. “Plenty of powder and shot will tell. There, the brutes are falling back a little.”
Hamp was right. The scratching at the cabin now ceased. But the hungry pack were loth to abandon their prey. Still they scurried here and there. From the opening the boys could see the sinewy bodies and the gleaming eyes. Above the din of yelps and howls a shriller sound occasionally rose.
It was probably the screech of the worsted catamount.
“Keep all the guns loaded,” cautioned Jerry. “I don’tbelieve we’ll have to do much more shooting, though. We’ve taught the wolves a bitter lesson. They know they can’t make a meal of us.”
But he had barely spoken when a scratching noise was heard overhead. The entire cabin seemed to totter and sway.
“The pack are on the roof,” cried Brick. “They must have climbed over the rocks. Everything will be down on us in a minute.”
“At least three or four of the brutes are there,” declared Hamp. “Just hear them digging. Let’s all fire together.”
But before a single weapon could be raised the flimsy roof parted in the center with a dull, ripping noise. Through the gap tumbled a heap of snow from the trees above, and then followed a snapping, snarling wolf, landing squarely upon the terrified boys.
CHAPTER VII.THROUGH THE ICE.
Happily, the wolf was not the least frightened member of the party. His plunge through space had been unintentional, and when he rolled off into one corner of the cabin he gave a howl of terror.
Brick and Hamp gathered themselves up from the pine boughs, where the blow had tumbled them. They felt sure that they were lost; they expected to be instantly torn limb from limb.
“Stand aside!” yelled Jerry, as he stepped in front of his companions.
There was no time to shoot, for the wolf had turned in desperation, and was in the act of rushing at his enemies.
Jerry clubbed his rifle and let drive. Thud! the heavy stock landed on the brute’s head, and tumbled him over in a heap.
“Hurrah!” shouted Hamp and Brick, in one breath, as they rushed to the attack.
The wolf was a tenacious fellow, and he struggled desperately to rise. Sorely wounded though he was, he actually managed to get upon his feet. Then a charge of buckshot from Jerry’s gun, settled him for good and all, and he rolled over lifeless.
The whole affair transpired in about a minute, and theplucky lads next turned their attention to the peril that threatened them from overhead.
Two howling brutes were digging and tearing at the hole in the roof. Their lolling red tongues and white teeth glistened in the firelight. The rest of the pack yelped and scurried around the cabin, as though they knew that the feast would soon be ready.
“We’ll fix those fellows, never fear,” panted Jerry.
He and Hamp lifted their shotguns, and fired together, straight at the glaring eyes and hungry jaws.
With a yelp of agony one of the brutes rolled from the roof, and crashed heavily to the ground. The other was invisible when the smoke cleared; he must have leaped back upon the rock.
The boys were cheered by their victory. They reloaded their weapons and waited, keeping an eye on all vulnerable spots.
“This will be something worth remembering, if we come through it all right,” said Brick.
“Morning can’t be many hours off,” added Hamp. “The pack will be sure to go then.”
But the brave lads were spared the horrors of a further siege. All at once the wolves became strangely silent, and the boys heard a rushing noise far back in the forest, mingled with a chorus of faint howls. The sound came closer, and then veered off in another direction, growing more and more indistinct.
“Listen!” whispered Jerry, holding up a warning finger. “There goes another pack of wolves—after adeer or something. Hear them tear through the forest. I’m glad they’re not headed this way.”
“So am I,” assented Brick. “Hullo! what’s up now?”
“The siege,” shouted Jerry, and the witticism proved indeed true.
The pack around the cabin gave voice to the fading howls of their kindred, and then scurried off into the forest at full tear.
For a time the lads could scarcely realize their good fortune. Then, with thankful hearts, they pulled the sled away from the door, and crept out.
The fire had burnt low, and they hurriedly stacked it with fresh fuel. Two dead wolves lay in the ravine, and the one inside the cabin made three. The bodies were dragged down the hollow, and pitched into a gully between two rocks.
“Let them lay there for the present,” said Jerry. “In the morning I’ll take the scalps off. We’ll get bounty for them.”
Encouraged by the brightness of the fire, the boys crept up the slope, and looked at the picked bones of the deer, and at the wolves that the catamount had killed.
“Pretty clean work,” observed Hamp. “I don’t care to stay here long, though. The catamount may pounce on us at any minute. There’s the tree he jumped into.”
“But he’s not there now,” replied Jerry. “I think he’s had enough of this locality, and won’t trouble us any more. No danger of the wolves coming back, either.”
“There is, if the severe weather keeps up,” said Hamp, as they returned to the fire. “It wouldn’t be a bad ideato cross the lake again, and do our hunting between Moosehead and Chesumcook. This neighborhood is too near Canada and the home of the wolves for me.”
“For me, too,” added Brick, uneasily.
“Well, I don’t suppose you fellows want to move to-night,” declared Jerry. “We can talk about it in the morning. I think I could sleep for twenty-four hours straight ahead now.”
“But how about the hole in the roof?” questioned Brick. “It won’t do to go to bed and leave that open. The catamount might jump down on us.”
“Or it might rain or snow,” added Hamp.
“It won’t do either,” asserted Jerry, “but I’m not so positive about the catamount. It will be only prudent to repair the roof to-night. Come, fellows; it won’t take long.”
Jerry mounted the rock, and then climbed partly out on the roof. The others procured hatchets and started toward a copse of young timber that lay behind the cabin.
“You’ll need another prop or two, won’t you?” asked Hamp.
“Yes, one of these is broken,” Jerry replied. “Cut it thick.”
Hamp chose a likely sapling and began to hack at it. Brick struck in now and then. Upon the roof Jerry rearranged the disordered layers of pine and spruce boughs. The boys anticipated a quick completion of the work and then a much-needed sleep.
“Help! Help!”
The cry came from a pair of lusty and vigorous lungs.Their owner was evidently some distance out on the lake and directly opposite the camp.
Jerry sprang back to the rock, and thence to the ground, landing directly between his companions.
Again the appeal for help rang out, mingled with a blood-curdling screech. Then followed a hoarse, quavering noise that sounded only half human.
“Some one is in peril out there,” exclaimed Jerry. “It must be one of those strange men. The catamount has attacked him. We have got to rescue him, fellows.”
“And mighty quick, at that,” added Hamp. “Come on.”
The boys ran back to the cabin, where each grabbed a rifle. Then they sped down the ravine and out on the slippery ice. The strange, unearthly noise was twice repeated before they were twenty feet from land.
“It sounds like a college yell, only a good deal worse,” declared Brick.
“I’ll bet I know what it is,” replied Hamp. “The man has no rifle, and he’s trying to scare the catamount off by screeching at it. I’ve heard of old trappers doing that.”
“And it often succeeds, too,” said Jerry. “There, the fellow is calling for help again.”
“Hold on, we’re coming!” shouted Hamp, at the top of his voice.
An answering hail floated back on the wind, and was speedily drowned by an ear-splitting yowl from the catamount.
The boys ran on and on. As yet nothing was visible in the deep gloom ahead.
“I wish we had brought a lantern,” panted Hamp.
“Too late to think of that now,” replied Jerry. “We’ve got to face the music in the dark. If it comes to close quarters, I’ll shoot at the catamount first. You fellows be ready in case I miss.”
A moment later the figure of a man loomed out of the misty gray atmosphere thirty yards in advance of the boys. He was running toward them at full speed, and brandishing a gun.
When the man came a little closer, the pursuing catamount could be seen bounding along behind. Suddenly the man stopped. He turned around and yelled savagely. The beast also stopped, and squatted on the ice.
The boys now came up with the stranger, who welcomed them gladly.
“You are just in time,” he panted. “I couldn’t have held out much longer. My rifle dropped in the snow, and is good for nothing. Shoot the creature, if you can.”
At sight of the rescuers, the catamount had swerved to one side, and was now creeping along in a half circle, evidently afraid to venture nearer.
Jerry took aim—unerringly, as he thought—and pulled the trigger. He missed, however, and when Brick and Hamp fired, with no better success, the beast retreated with great leaps.
“Don’t let him get away,” yelled Jerry, excitedly. “As long as he’s alive, he’ll give us trouble. We’ve got to finish him up now. Come on, fellows.”
Off dashed the lad on a run, and Brick and Hamp followed. They skimmed over a dozen yards of ice andthen slackened speed. Just ahead was a small, bluish spot, but none noticed it.
“Confound the beast!” exclaimed Jerry. “I never saw anything slide out of sight so quickly.”
He ran on for several yards, heedless of his peril. Then he struck the thin shell of ice on an air-hole, and like a flash he vanished from the eyes of his horrified companions.
CHAPTER VIII.MR. RAIKES OF PORTLAND.
The catastrophe was one of appalling swiftness. Brick and Hamp could scarcely realize what had happened. The hole that had swallowed Jerry up yawned at their very feet.
It was less than two feet in diameter, and its edges were jagged. The surface of the deep, blue water went swirling around and around, as though an under-current existed. Doubtless there was one, and it had sucked Jerry far down. He did not reappear, though the boys strained their eyes on the fatal spot. The seconds went by—twenty—half a minute.
Hamp uttered a groan of agony.
“Jerry, Jerry!” he cried aloud.
“Look out!” exclaimed Brick, as he dragged him back. “You’ll go in, too. It’s all up with poor Jerry. There’s no hope—not an atom.”
His voice quavered and broke; he dashed a tear from his eye. Hamp was crying, too. Loud sobs burst from his bosom. Just then the stranger reached the spot. He had seen the accident from a distance.
“Which one was it?” he demanded. “Which one? Tell me his name, quick.”
It was a strange request, and he spoke in eager,excited tones. But the boys were too much concerned to notice such a trifle.
“It—it was Jerry,” sobbed Hamp.
“Jerry who?”
“Jerry—Jerry Brenton.”
“Brenton? Ah!”
The man’s voice and manner showed intense relief.
“Poor fellow,” he added. “Nothing can be done to help him. The water is deep, and he must have been carried far under the ice. Where is the catamount—the author of all the mischief?”
This was a heartless question, and the boys were too indignant to reply. At such a moment they would have cared little for a dozen catamounts.
“Oh! oh!” moaned Hamp. “Poor Jerry! What shall we do? What shall we do?”
So complete and hopeless was their despair that what followed seemed at first like a dream. They heard a crackling sound, and then a plaintive cry. It was really Jerry’s voice, calling faintly for help from a distance.
Brick was the first to notice a dark blot some twenty feet out on the ice. He rushed toward it with a yell of delight, followed by Hamp and the stranger.
The dark blot was Jerry’s head and shoulders. The rim of broken ice fitted close to his armpits, and his outstretched hands were clutching at the glossy surface.
“Help! help!” he cried, in a weak and quavering voice. “I’m going under again, fellows.”
“No, you ain’t,” shouted Hamp. “We’ll save you. Hold on a minute.”
“Don’t go too near by yourself,” warned Jerry. “The ice will break.”
“That’s so,” cried Brick, giving one hand to Hamp. The stranger, in turn, took hold of Brick, and thus a triply-strong line was formed. Hamp went forward on his knees until he was able to grasp one of Jerry’s hands.
All pulled together. It was a time of terrible suspense. Twice Jerry was almost out of water, and twice the edge of the ice crumbled, letting him slip back.
Fortunately Hamp did not break through. He bravely withstood the strain, and, at last, a mighty effort pulled Jerry out beside him, and he was dragged to a place of safety.
Hamp rubbed his arm.
“I thought the muscles were going to crack,” he said. “It was an awful strain. But I would have lost both arms sooner than see you drown, Jerry.”
“Better get the lad back to the campfire at once,” suggested the stranger.
This was good advice, for Jerry was simply speechless with cold. His face and hands were blue, and he shivered like a leaf as he stood with dripping clothes.
Hamp and Brick took Jerry between them, and away they sped for camp. The stranger followed, and he was close behind the others when they reached the fire. The boys now saw him clearly, for the first time, as he stood in the light of the flames.
The man was about thirty years old, with brown hair and a slight, yellowish mustache. His face was good-humored and rather prepossessing. He wore graytrousers, and a short, but heavy, overcoat was buttoned up to his throat.
“You’ve got dry clothes for the lad?” he asked.
“Yes; each of us has an extra suit,” replied Hamp.
He and Brick bustled in and out of the cabin, and in a brief time they had Jerry attired in dry garments. His lips were still blue, and he shivered as though he had a chill. The boys wrapped him in blankets, and made him sit close up to the fire. Then they heaped on quantities of wood, until the roaring flames were leaping high.
The stranger took a small flask from his pocket and wrenched a metal cup from the end. Into the latter he poured a few drops of a reddish liquor.
“Drink this, lad,” he said, handing the cup to Jerry, who drained it hastily and made a wry face.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Brandy, and prime stuff, at that. It’s thirty years old.”
Jerry shivered to think what the stuff would have tasted like had it been twice as old.
It was just what he needed, however, and in a short time the shivering ceased, and the color came back to his cheeks.
“How do you feel now?” asked Hamp.
“Splendid. It’s awfully snug and warm under these blankets. I’ll bet you fellows were scared when I went through the ice.”
“Well, I should say so,” replied Brick. “We never expected to see you again. How did you get to that hole, anyhow?”
“It was presence of mind did that,” declared Jerry. “You see, as soon as I broke through, a sort of an under-current sucked me deep down and to one side. I opened my eyes and began to swim. I came up with a bump, and then I knew I was clear under the ice. I saw a gray streak away off in front of me. I knew it must be the light shining through an air-hole, and swam for it. Then I went up head first, and you fellows know the rest. My rifle is at the bottom of the lake, though.”
“We’ve got guns enough without it,” replied Hamp. “Don’t worry about that. You can be mighty glad that you’re not beside the rifle, Jerry.”
“It was, indeed, a most marvelous escape,” said the stranger. “Had this brave lad been drowned, I should have put the blame upon myself. It was to save me from the catamount that you lads ventured out on the lake.”
“I only wish we had killed the brute,” grumbled Jerry.
“Yes, it is unfortunate that he got away,” admitted the stranger. “But I forget that I have not yet introduced myself. I hope you will overlook my carelessness. My name is Silas Raikes, and I hail from Portland, Maine. I am camping a mile or two from here with a friend. His name is Joe Bogle, and he belongs in Augusta. We are out on a little prospecting expedition.”
The boys nodded.
“Some hours ago we were attacked by wolves, but managed to drive them off. When we heard shots a little later, we knew that there must be other campers near by, and that they were in peril. So I left Joe to guard camp, and came to your assistance. But, as it so happened, thetables were turned, and I was the one to need help. My rifle was useless from a fall in the snow, and the catamount very nearly captured me.”
“Then we are square all round,” said Brick, laughingly. “We’re much obliged to you for your good intentions, all the same. If you had come a little sooner, you would have seen some lively times.”
He went on to describe in a graphic manner the thrilling events of the night. Mr. Raikes took a keen interest in the tale, and overwhelmed the boys with praise.
“I should be glad to know such brave lads more intimately,” he said. “Let me see. Have I forgotten your names already?”
“I guess you never knew them,” replied Hamp, with outspoken candor. “My name is Foster, and over there is Jerry Brenton. We are both from Bangor. This fellow is Brick Larkins, and he lives in New York.”
“Jim Larkins,” corrected Brick, with a roguish look at Hamp.
“Larkins, Larkins,” repeated Mr. Raikes, as he thoughtfully rubbed his forehead. “Where have I heard that name? Ah, yes. Surely you are no relative of John Larkins, the wealthy contractor of Lexington avenue, New York?”
“His son, that’s all,” replied Brick. “Do you know him?”
“I have met him in a business way. And so you are his son? Well, I am glad to make your acquaintance. Your object is hunting, I presume?”
“We started out with that intention,” replied Brick,“but so far the wolves and the catamounts and the deer have been hunting us.”
The boys laughed, and Mr. Raikes joined in heartily. He took a cigar from Ins pocket and lighted it with a glowing ember.
CHAPTER IX.THE GREAT STORM.
Mr. Raikes proved to be a very affable and genial sort of a man. He chatted with the boys for some time, and asked them a great deal about their plans.
Not once, however, did he refer to the business that had brought himself and Mr. Bogle into the wilderness.
“Isn’t this a queer time of the year to go prospecting?” inquired Jerry, during a lapse in the conversation. “I thought summer was the right season.”
Mr. Raikes’ blue eyes expressed mild surprise, as he turned to the speaker.
“This is just the time for our line of business,” he replied; and if he ever spoke the truth in his life, he spoke it then.
“We’ll make out all right if the weather holds good,” he added, hastily. “I’m a little afraid there’s a snow squall coming, though. The air just feels like it. It’s not nearly so cold as when I started.”
“That’s so,” exclaimed Hamp. “I can feel it getting warmer.”
“You’d think it was downright hot if you were in my place,” declared Jerry. “I’m actually sweating.”
“That’s the best thing for you,” said Mr. Raikes, “only don’t take cold after it. Well, I must be off. You boyswant to sleep, and I suppose Joe is getting anxious about me. Of course, we will see each other again, since we are such near neighbors?”
Without waiting for a reply, Mr. Raikes shouldered his gun and strode down the ravine. The boys shouted good-by after him, and watched until he disappeared in the gloom.
“Not a bad sort of a fellow,” commented Brick.
“He has mighty restless eyes,” said Hamp. “When they weren’t looking at you, they were searching around the camp.”
“I noticed that he watched Brick pretty sharply,” put in Jerry. “He was a mighty talkative fellow. Come to think of it, he found out everything about us, and didn’t tell us a scrap about himself.”
Here the discussion of the departed Mr. Raikes ended, for the boys were too sleepy to think of anything else. Brick looked at his watch, and uttered a gasp of surprise.
“Half-past three o’clock. It will soon be morning.”
“The roof of the cabin must be fixed before we go to bed,” cried Jerry. “It may snow at any time. You fellows will have to manage it, for I won’t dare stir about till I get over this sweat.”
Brick and Hamp undertook the contract, and, by following Jerry’s instructions, they completed the work in a very few minutes. Then they dragged a big log down the ravine and put it on the fire.
The light faded, and dawn came. It was a dreary sort of a dawn, at best, for the weather had changed in a truly terrific manner. At midday the tired boys were stillslumbering, blissfully ignorant of the warring elements outside. The afternoon advanced, and it was well toward evening when Brick yawned, stretched himself, and sat up. He looked at his watch.
“Great Scott!” he ejaculated. “After four o’clock! What a sleep we’ve had!”
Then he noticed a sprinkling of snow on the pine boughs, and saw quite a layer of it in the front corners of the cabin. A loud humming noise was ringing in his ears, and mingled with it was a deep, sonorous roar. Brick threw off the blanket and crawled to the door. He pulled the sled away and partly lifted the flap of canvas. When he saw a solid wall of snow staring him in the face, he uttered a shout that instantly woke his companions.
“Look out, or we’ll have a cave-in!” cried Jerry, as he pushed the sled back in place. “Whew! what a storm this is! Just hear the wind roaring!”
“How are we going to see out?” asked Hamp.
For answer, Jerry took an ax and chopped a small, oblong hole in the front wall of the cabin, at the height of five feet from the ground. The boys crowded in front of it and looked out.
To say that they were astonished and alarmed, would but feebly express their feelings. The snow was level with the hole, and lay to the depth of five feet all through the ravine. The air was white with swirling flakes, and the lofty trees to right and left were creaking and groaning in the teeth of a tremendous gale.
Fortunately the storm was blowing from the northeast, and thus the cabin was effectively screened by the upperbank of the ravine. Had it been exposed, even partially, to the gale, it would have been demolished long ago.
Jerry stuffed an old coat into the hole to shut out the bitterly cold air that filtered through.
“This is a pretty ugly fix,” he said, gravely. “I hope the storm won’t keep up.”
“We’re snug enough in here, at any rate,” replied Hamp.
“And we can stand a long siege,” added Brick, who was disposed to be cheerful. To him, a snowstorm suggested only the pleasing excitement of winter sports.
“We are all right as long as the wind don’t change,” responded Jerry, “but if it does—then good-by to the cabin. The snow itself is not as deep as it looks. The wind blowing over the bank makes a sort of an eddy behind it, and all this snow in the ravine has drifted. It will keep on drifting, too—higher and higher.”
“We’ll find a way to pull through,” said Hamp, confidently. “I don’t believe the wind is going to change.”
“It may sheer to the east,” suggested Brick.
“That is just what I am afraid of,” replied Jerry. “But we won’t borrow trouble before it comes. We have enough on our hands now.”
He pointed to the roof, which was sagging down considerably in the middle. There was evidently a heavy weight of snow on top.
“No way to remedy that,” he added. “We can’t get up there in such a deep snow. Let’s make the best of it, fellows. I’m thankful that I feel well after my cold bath last night.”
“If anything happens, those men may help us,” suggested Hamp.
“Not likely,” replied Jerry. “I’ll bet anything they’re worse off than we are. Probably they’ve got nothing to shelter them but a couple of rocks or a flimsy lean-to.”
“Then I pity them,” declared Brick. “But let’s have something to eat, fellows. I’m ravenous.”
His companions were equally hungry. All sat down on the straw, and for half a minute no one spoke or moved. An expression that was half serious, half comical, stole over each face.
Then Hamp opened a tin box and took out several dozen biscuit. He unrolled a napkin and disclosed about half a pound of chipped beef. He spread these things significantly in front of his companions. The act was enough to tell the tale.
“I thought so,” exclaimed Brick, dismally. “We’ll starve, sure. What fools we were to leave everything in the storehouse.”
“What confounded fools,” echoed Hamp. “But we couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”
The storehouse, it must be explained, was a triangular hollow between two rocks that stood in the center of the ravine, half-a-dozen yards below the cabin.
Here, snugly covered with one of the sleds, rested most of the provisions—tinned biscuit and meats, potatoes, flour, lard, coffee, pork, and various other articles.
This place had been selected because there was not sufficient room in the cabin.
“We can’t keep alive long on this handful of crackersand beef,” declared Jerry. “We’ve got to get at the supplies somehow or other. Light the lantern till we look about us. Where are the matches?”
“In the storehouse,” muttered Brick. “The sealed bottle, I mean. But we had a box here last night. I saw it lying in that corner.”
Alas! the corner was heaped up with snow, and when Brick dug out the box, it was a sight to be seen. It had been left partly open, and the heads of the matches were one sticky mass.
“Look in your pockets,” Jerry fairly shrieked.
Every pocket was quickly searched, but to no purpose. Not a match could be found.
“No light, and hardly any food,” muttered Jerry, glaring at the two useless lanterns. “Now we must get to the storehouse. There are no two ways about it. I suppose the snowshoes are with the other traps.”
“Yes,” said Hamp, dismally.
“If we had them here, we would be all right.”
“Can’t we dig a tunnel?” suggested Brick.
“That’s just what I’m thinking about,” replied Jerry. “It might be done, though it will take a long time. The snow is so light that I am afraid a tunnel will cave in.”
“Let me try it, anyhow,” said Brick. “You’ll catch cold if you get into the snow, Jerry.”
“I’ll attend to the tunneling,” asserted Hamp. “I’m used to that sort of thing. Do you remember our snow forts, Jerry?”
Jerry nodded.
“Do your best, old fellow. Everything depends on it. Let’s all have a bite to eat first.”
As he spoke, a sharp, snapping noise was heard above the roar of the storm. A terrific crash followed. The cabin quivered and reeled, and black darkness shut out the pale gray twilight.