CHAPTER X.A GREAT DISASTER.
The stunning crash and the succeeding darkness suggested an earthquake to the frightened boys. They dropped down on the boughs and lay there without moving for nearly a minute.
“Any one hurt?” asked Jerry, in a husky tone.
“I’m not,” whispered Brick.
“Neither am I,” added Hamp. “But we may be killed any minute. I wonder what that was.”
“I’ll bet I know,” exclaimed Jerry. “One of those big pine trees has fallen right across the ravine. Luckily it hit the rock instead of the cabin, and the thick branches are what makes it dark in here.”
To prove his assertion, Jerry removed the plug from the hole over the door. Sure enough, a couple of bushy, green limbs were seen protruding from the cabin roof down into the snow.
“It’s only the limbs that do that,” declared Jerry. “The trunk of the tree is on the rock. If it had fallen a little to this side we would have been crushed like eggshells.”
“The cabin is just as firm as ever,” said Hamp, as he pressed his weight against one side.
“It’s firmer,” asserted Brick. “It don’t wobble one bit now, and it did before.”
“That’s because the outspreading branches of the tree are holding it like a vise,” said Jerry. “I’ll tell you what, fellows, this accident is the best thing that could have happened to us. The cabin is as solid as though it was built on stone, and the roof can’t break down now, no matter how deep the snow becomes.”
This was undoubtedly true, and the boys were vastly relieved to hear it.
“If we only had the matches and provisions here,” said Brick. “Then we would be fixed.”
“Yes, we could stand a long siege,” assented Jerry. “But we’ve got to be up and doing. First, we’ll have a bite to eat, and then Hamp can tackle the tunnel.”
The storm still raged with unabated fury, and the stinging cold air penetrated to the cabin. The boys plugged up the hole, and then sat down to the scanty repast, which was soon over.
“Now for the tunnel,” said Hamp.
He removed the sled and gingerly unbuttoned the flap of canvas from the doorway.
The others helped him, and as fast as they removed the snow, they poked it out through the hole above. Finally the excavation was three feet deep, and high enough to admit Hamp on his hands and knees.
“You’ll have to stop removing the snow now,” said Jerry. “I can’t poke any more out, for the drift is up over the hole in the wall.”
“All right,” replied Hamp, cheerfully, as he crawled into the tunnel. “The snow is so light that I can pack it under me and against the sides. It’s nice and warm inhere, fellows, but it’s dark as pitch. I wish there was a little light.”
“You’ll have to wish,” replied Jerry. “You can strike matches on the way back from the storehouse.”
Hamp laughed, and his voice had a hollow, muffled ring.
“Better let me come in and help you,” cried Brick.
“No; stay there,” responded Hamp. “If two fellows were working, we would surely have a cave-in. I’m getting along all right.”
By this time he was five feet from the cabin. On hands and knees he went slowly ahead through the intense darkness. He wore stout buckskin gloves, and carried a slab of bark, with which he patted down the snow in front of him and slapped it against the sides of the tunnel. He could hear, as though from a great distance, the ceaseless roar of the tempest. All was quiet in the cabin, and he dared not call out to his companions, for fear his voice would bring an avalanche of snow into the tunnel.
Yet the lad was in a hazardous situation, and to himself he did not disguise the fact. At any moment might come disaster in the shape of a cave-in or a falling tree. Then, in the darkness, he would have little chance of escape.
He worked forward slowly and bravely. He had a definite plan in mind. Directly out from the cabin door was the fireplace, and two or three feet to the right of this lay a flat stone, on which the boys had frequently sat while cooking the meals. Straight down the ravine fromthe stone was the storehouse. To reach the latter seemed simple enough, but it was not so easy after all.
Now and then he would throw himself flat, and stretch out his arms and legs to their fullest extent to make sure that the tunnel had no crooks.
At last something occurred that made his heart leap for joy. The slab of bark struck a hard obstacle. Hamp tore eagerly at the snow with both hands. Yes, he had found the fireplace. One by one he lifted the charred embers of wood. Here was the half-consumed log that had ceased to burn when the storm opened. So far the tunnel was just what he had aimed to make it.
In a short time Hamp cleared the space round about him, and flattened the snow down solidly. He was tempted to push straight ahead for the storehouse, but a prudent second thought caused him to abandon the rash design. He turned to the right, and went on with the excavation. Hope made the time pass quickly, and he was surprised when he struck the flat stone. He tunneled clear over it with extreme caution. Then he veered sharply to the left and followed the triangular point of the stone, which he knew pointed straight for the storehouse.
Deeper and deeper grew the tunnel, and soon his feet were quite beyond the stone. He could barely kick it with his heels when he threw himself flat. The goal was now within six or eight feet.
Then came a sudden rumble and whirr, and Hamp felt a weight drop upon the rear part of his body. He knew what had happened, and threw himself convulsively forward.He cleared the fallen snow and then wheeled quickly around. The tunnel had disappeared. The roof had fallen in.
Hamp had no way of telling how far back the blockade extended.
“I’ll have to turn back and clear the path,” he reflected. “The cave-in surely can’t reach farther than the stone. This time I’ll make the roof stronger. I can be thankful it didn’t drop all over me.”
The cleared space around him permitted him to turn slowly on his hands and knees. He described a complete revolution, gently patting the roof overhead to make sure that it was solid.
It was a most stupid thing to do, and when the realization of his folly flashed upon his mind, Hamp felt that he would give much to be able to kick himself. In truth, he had blundered into a most perplexing situation. He had utterly lost his bearings.
For a moment the lad was simply stupid with horror. He had not the least idea in which direction lay the cabin or the storehouse, the upper or the lower side of the ravine.
He was buried under a mighty snowdrift, that might collapse and stifle him at any instant.
CHAPTER XI.UNDER THE SNOWDRIFT.
Hamp knew that his only hope lay in a clear head and a courageous heart. Already the air seemed to be more dense, and he felt a difficulty in breathing.
“One thing certain,” he reflected, “I’ve got about a ghost of a chance of striking either the cabin or the storehouse. If I try to tunnel away from here, there’s no telling where I may land. I’ve got two chances—either to stay here until Brick and Jerry come to rescue me, or to get my bearings by hearing them shout.”
The latter commended itself most favorably to Hamp. In spite of the risk of an avalanche, he put his hands to his lips and uttered a piercing yell.
No reply.
He waited, and tried again.
Now, to his delight, he heard a faint cry. He was not quick enough to locate it, so he shouted once more.
A moment later the answering hail came, but, alas! he could not make sure in what direction.
An agony of despair seized him, and he uttered cry after cry.
Fatal mistake! The loud noise loosened the quivering masses of snow. Hamp felt the walls shake and heard the rustling glide. Throwing out his arms, he fought his way upward through the descending avalanche.Though twice beaten back, he gained an upright position. Had the snow been less light and powdery, he must have been crushed to the ground.
He was now firmly on his feet, but in danger of suffocation. His head was covered. The snow pressed against his mouth and nose. He gasped for breath. He clutched and tore at the weight above him, swinging his arms from side to side. Then the powdery masses slipped to right and left, disclosing a funnel-shaped aperture, through which filtered a current of cold air. Hamp uttered a cry of relief and made the opening larger. The top of the drift was about two feet above his head. He saw the circular patch of murky gray sky through the driving storm. He felt the icy flakes dropping upon his cheeks, and heard the hoarse, deafening hum of the wind. The youth was in no present danger, but otherwise his position was not improved. He could not force a way onward through the drift, nor could he get his head high enough to see where he was.
“It’s no go,” he muttered. “I’m stuck here like a pig in a poke. Unless I keep mighty still, I’ll have another avalanche from the surface.”
Just then he heard two lusty shouts, and the voices seemed to come from straight in front of him.
“Hurrah!” he yelled. “Brick! Jerry!”
The response quickly floated back, and at the same instant the wind drove a stinging shower of fine snow into his face.
Hamp wiped the snow off, and was about to utter another shout when he heard a shrill crackling above thedin of the storm. As he stared upward he saw the disk of open air suddenly eclipsed by a sheet of blackness. More from instinct than logic, Hamp divined what this meant. Quick as a flash he dived downward with arms and head, and sought to burrow under the drift.
He was none too quick. He heard a dull crash, and felt himself seized by some mighty force and driven roughly against the very ground. There was a considerable weight of loose snow upon him, and when he had beaten it away from his face, his outstretched hands caught hold of something that was solid, but prickly and yielding.
He recognized it as the branch of a pine tree. Then he twisted about and thrust his hands down toward his middle. Here he found the trunk of the tree, resting with no little weight upon his thighs.
No bones were broken, nor was he even badly bruised. But, nevertheless, he was pinned fast. He lay partly on one side, with his head turned in the direction whence the voices of his friends had come.
The canopy of branches above admitted plenty of fresh air, and there was quite an open gap in front of his face. He made a strong effort to drag himself free, but stopped as soon as he found masses of snow dropping down upon him. Then he shouted several times, and heard a faint response. The cries continued at intervals, and now they actually seemed to be coming closer.
“Brick and Jerry are tunneling this way,” said Hamp, to himself. “I wonder if they will succeed in reaching me. I didn’t tell them how I was going to dig. I onlyhope they won’t get in the same fix that I was in a few minutes ago.”
The chance of rescue—slim though it was—cheered him considerably, and gave him patience. He lay quite still, shouting from time to time. There were no longer any responses, but he concluded that the boys were afraid to shout for fear of a cave-in.
Twenty minutes of thrilling suspense slipped away. Then he heard a dull, muffled sound, and a moment later a mass of snow dropped upon his face. He threw out his hands and caught hold of a human arm.
“Brick! Jerry!” he shouted, with delight.
“We’re here, old boy,” replied Jerry’s familiar voice. “Are you hurt?”
“Not a bit. I’m pinned fast, though.”
“Well, we’ll soon have you out. Brick and I thought you were a goner for sure when that tree fell. The crash sounded just where your voice was.”
“It was a close call,” replied Hamp. “But how did you get here so soon.”
“Why, by your tunnel,” said Jerry. “It was open a foot beyond that stone. We dug mighty carefully the rest of the way. That’s what kept us so long.”
“And now how are we going to get you free?” added Brick.
“I’ll tell you,” replied Hamp. “In the first place, make the passage wide enough for both of you to kneel side by side.”
“It’s wide enough now,” declared Jerry. “We came through in double file.”
“Then take hold of my hands and pull.”
The boys followed instructions, and by a long, steady haul they drew Hamp from under the trunk of the tree.
“There, that will do,” he cried, as he sat up. “Thank goodness, I can kick as spry as ever. My trousers are torn, but I don’t believe I have a scratch. I wouldn’t go through this over again for a fortune.”
He briefly told the boys his thrilling story, and it made them feel rather shivery.
“We had better go back while the way is open,” said Brick. “It will be good-by if we are caught by a cave-in.”
“I hate to give up,” muttered Hamp, doggedly. “I Started for the storehouse, and I want to reach it.”
“But that tree is right in the road now,” declared Jerry. “The storehouse is on the other side of it. We can’t get through, and it will be a risky thing to try to tunnel around it.”
Hamp was not satisfied until he had crawled forward several feet. Then a perfect network of interlacing branches drove him reluctantly back.
“I thought so,” said Jerry. “There is only one thing to do, fellows. We must return to the cabin and wait until morning. By then the storm may be over. At any rate, the snow will be more solid and compact, and won’t cave in so easily. We will be able to make a tunnel clear around the tree, and get at the storehouse from the lower side.”
This was sound logic, and as no one could suggest a better plan, the boys started despondently back through the tunnel, crawling in single file.
They reached the end without mishap, and were heartily glad to find themselves in the snug shelter of the cabin once more.
Brick looked at his watch and wound it up. It was just half-past eight o’clock in the evening. Of course, the boys were not sleepy, and it looked as though they would have to turn night into day. They were savagely hungry, and longingly eyed the cartridge box that held the scanty remnants of their supper. But they put the temptation aside with stern fortitude, knowing that greater need would come with the morning.
All hands prudently exchanged their damp clothes for dry ones, and then huddled together under blankets in a corner of the cabin.
It was four o’clock when the boys finally dropped off to sleep, overcome more by mental than physical exhaustion. They rested soundly, and awoke to find that another day had dawned—dawned hours before, for Brick’s watch indicated eleven o’clock. The hands could be barely seen by the meager gray light that filtered through a crevice in the roof.
The storm was over—the wind, part of it, at least. The silence was oppressive. Evidently the drifted snow was piled many feet above the cabin. What scanty light penetrated to the boys filtered through the outspreading branches of the fallen pine.
CHAPTER XII.DECOYED TO DANGER.
The first thing was breakfast. Prudence was no match for ravenous hunger, and the boys greedily devoured the last scrap of food. They even searched the pine boughs for fallen crumbs.
“It don’t seem as though I had eaten anything at all,” said Brick, mournfully.
“Well, it won’t be long till we get a good, square meal,” said Jerry. “The snow must be packed pretty hard by this time, so the tunnel won’t take so long to dig.”
“And there won’t be much danger of caving in,” added Hamp.
The boys sat talking for a while before they began the great undertaking. Their very lives depended on reaching the storehouse.
“I hope we can get out of this,” replied Brick. “I’m sick of this part of the country. I’ve been wondering what became of those two men.”
“They’re either dead, or snowed up so badly that they can’t help themselves,” declared Hamp. “It’s our duty to go to their assistance as soon as we get a chance. That fellow, Raikes, put himself in danger to help us, you know.”
It was shortly after midday when the three entered thetunnel in single file. Jerry took the lead, and the others followed close at his heels.
The snow was rather sticky and compact, and they, took advantage of this to enlarge the top and sides of the passage as they went along. Not a single cave-in was found. They easily made the two turns, and reached the scene of Hamp’s disaster on the previous day.
Here the actual work began, for, though the storehouse was close ahead, the fallen tree effectually barred the way. The boys turned sharply to the left, and tunneled cautiously along for ten or twelve feet through the pitch blackness.
Then they struck the bank of the ravine, and followed it down for two yards.
“We must have passed under the trunk of the tree by this time,” said Jerry. “Now comes a straight course for the storehouse. And it’s got to be straight, for if we dig only a foot or two to right or left, we’ll strike either the tree or the other side of the ravine.”
“Go ahead,” replied Hamp. “We’ll make it, old fellow.”
Already more than an hour had passed since they left the cabin. They advanced with redoubled caution, working two abreast, and patting the roof and sides of the tunnel to make them secure.
The long and trying ordeal came to an end at last, and glorious was the reward. The slab of bark, with which Jerry was digging, suddenly struck something hard. It proved to be a rock, and the boys cleared the space around it with frantic haste.
A moment later they fairly tumbled into the triangular cavity between the two great boulders. It was indeed the storehouse.
With greedy hands they tore away the sled and clutched at the precious supplies lying underneath. The fear of bringing an avalanche down on their heads was all that kept them from bursting into hearty cheers.
“We are saved,” cried Hamp, as he got hold of the tin box of matches and struck a light.
“Stay right here,” said Jerry. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
He snatched a handful of matches, and crawled into the tunnel, striking light after light as he went along. He was quickly out of sight, but in less than five minutes he returned with a flaming lantern.
The next step was to enlarge the space in front of the rocks, and when this was accomplished, the sled was dragged out of the cavity, and the supplies—snowshoes and all—were securely strapped upon it.
Then the return trip was begun. Jerry crawled ahead with the lantern, and Hamp and Brick came after him with the sled. Each angle was safely rounded, and it was a happy moment when the boys entered the cabin.
The first thing they did was to eat a hearty meal, and no banquet could have tasted better than the dry, uncooked food.
“What time is it?” asked Jerry.
“Just four o’clock,” replied Brick, looking-at his watch.
“Then I’ll tell you what we had better do,” resumed Jerry. “If a thaw and rain should come—and it feels pretty close now—the cabin would almost certainly beflooded. Suppose we go back to the storehouse and dig another tunnel clear out to the lake. I’ll bet anything the wind blew the ice clear of snow. Then, if we reach the open air, we can start away from here to-morrow morning and hunt another camp. First, we’ll look up those prospectors.”
This proposition suited Hamp and Brick. They were just as eager for a change as Jerry.
Without delay, the boys started back to the storehouse. They took with them a lighted lantern, and each was provided with a snowshoe for digging purposes.
The task proved a long and weary one, but they pluckily persevered. They chiseled a passage straight down the trough of the ravine, guided along the way by well-remembered landmarks.
Shortly after seven o’clock in the evening Jerry’s snowshoe broke through the thin wall of snow, and the delighted boys tumbled out into the dusky night air. They found themselves several yards beyond the mouth of the ravine.
Far in front stretched the lake, its icy surface almost free of snow. Behind was the great drift, mounting higher and higher as it receded, until it rose many feet above the banks of the ravine. The tree that had fallen across the storehouse was utterly invisible, while of the upper tree only a few protruding limbs could be seen.
Having accomplished their purpose, and thus opened a way of retreat from the buried cabin, the boys entered the tunnel once more and crawled back. They werehungry after their toil, and immediately sat down to another hearty meal. The lamp shed a cheerful glow throughout the snug little inclosure, and the contented faces of the lads reflected its beams.
“This is what I call comfort,” declared Jerry, as he put away the provisions.
“It’s not bad,” assented Brick. “I only wish—— Hullo! what’s that? I heard a cry from, outside, fellows.”
“So did I,” exclaimed Hamp. “Listen!”
All were silent, and now the faint, far-away sound came again to their ears.
It seemed to be the voice of some one in distress.
Again it rang faintly on the night air.
“Those men!” exclaimed Jerry.
“I’ll bet anything they are out on the lake looking for us. They can’t see the tunnel in the dark.”
“Mebbe they are half-starved and need help more than we do,” suggested Hamp. “We’ve got to go out and see, fellows.”
“That’s right,” cried Jerry. “Come on.”
He snatched the lantern and dived into the tunnel, followed by his companions. They had not the slightest doubt that Raikes and Bogle were outside.
In their confidence and hurry, they committed the grave error of leaving their rifles behind. It never occurred to them that the strange cries might have another and totally different origin.
So, with empty hands, the lads crawled hastily forwardon hands and knees down the long, straight passage that led to the open lake.
Suddenly a sharp, blood-curdling cry vibrated on the pent-in air, and that instant a long, tawny beast, with glaring eyeballs, took shape in the gloom, just beyond the lantern’s flashing rays.
CHAPTER XIII.THE LAST OF THE CATAMOUNT.
Before the boys, at a distance of barely twelve feet, crouched the huge catamount, screeching with fury and hunger.
Bitterly, in that awful moment, did they repent the folly of venturing forth unarmed.
Brick and Hamp grabbed each other, and stared wildly about as though they expected a way of escape to open before their eyes.
Jerry was two feet in front of his companions, and when he saw that the hungry beast was about to spring, he uttered a terrific yell, and nearly let the lantern drop from his nerveless fingers.
The cry was wrung from his lips by sheer fright, but it served a good and unexpected purpose. The catamount was disturbed by the shrill echoes of a human voice. He turned tail instantly, and bolted several yards down the tunnel. Then he wheeled around again, and squatted low. His fiery eyes glared at his intended victims, and his long tail smacked the snow. He wailed several times in a whining key.
The boys were too badly scared to realize or to follow up their advantage. For the moment they were without wits or presence of mind.
“Run!” yelled Jerry; “run for the cabin!”
Running was out of the question, but the boys did the next best thing.
Turning around, they fled up the passage on all fours, momentarily expecting to feel the claws of their enemy. Six arms and six legs revolved wildly. Jerry held grimly to the lantern, and it’s friendly light showed the way.
But ere the lads were half the distance to the storehouse, the hungry beast was bounding after them, screeching hideously at every jump.
In sheer desperation Jerry wheeled around, and saw the ugly head almost within reach of his arms. Terror prompted him to try a last device. He lifted the lantern and let it drive with all his might.
It struck the catamount on the foreshoulders, bounced off and rolled in the snow. There was a sudden puff, an explosion and a dash of burning oil in all directions. Then a series of hisses, and utter darkness.
On went the boys, groping blindly from side to side. The angle at the storehouse bothered them, and they fell together in a confused heap. Somehow or other they got disentangled, and by pure luck Hamp and Jerry hit the tunnel and made good time toward the next curve.
Brick was not so fortunate. He went head first into the storehouse, and only discovered the mistake when his arms struck the rocky sides of the cavity.
There was no time to retreat, for he heard, close by, an angry snarl from the catamount. With almost the swiftness of a lightning-flash he remembered that there was asmaller cavity beyond the storehouse proper. Could he squeeze into it?
He did not stop to consider, but plunged forward at once. He found the hole, and in a trice his arms and head were through. The rest was a tight fit, but he kicked and scrambled, paying no heed to bruises or lacerations. At last his legs were free, and he dropped down between the rocks.
There was barely room enough for him to squat in an upright position, and even then his head scraped a sharp point of rock. But surely the catamount could squeeze after him.
He shouted hoarsely as he heard a sniffing, whining noise close by, followed by a blood-curdling screech. He believed that his companions had fled and left him to his fate. He had matches in his pocket, and almost unconsciously he drew one out and struck it.
It was well that he did so. The catamount had already gained the larger cavity beyond. His wicked head, with its flattened ears, was just gliding into the crevice that led to Brick’s retreat. The lad uttered yell after yell, and the brute paused. A moment later he retreated to the outer mouth of the storehouse, for Brick had ignited his handkerchief, and tossed the flaming mass forward.
The blaze showed Brick a slab of loose rock lying at his feet. He snatched it up, and wedged it into the crevice with all his might. He tore off his coat, and jammed that in beside the rock.
The handkerchief was now nearly consumed, and when the last spark faded away, the catamount came on moredeterminedly than ever. His yowls of fury floated through the tunnel with dismal reverberations. He sniffed and snorted, and began to tear at the obstacles that blocked the crevice.
Brick shouted for help as he pulled the two remaining matches out of his pocket. His nerveless fingers let them drop, and a hasty search of the hard, stony ground proved futile.
Suddenly Brick felt a stinging sensation, and half of his shirt-sleeve was ripped off his left arm. The catamount had thrust a paw through the crevice.
Brick retreated as far as possible, wedging himself so tightly between the rocks that he could scarcely move a limb. Here he crouched and trembled. He knew that drops of warm blood were trickling down his arm, but he felt no pain. He wondered why the boys did not come to his rescue. Scarcely a foot away the catamount tore and scratched at the barricade, pausing every now and then to utter a fearful screech. The brute had doubtless been prowling about on the lake since the beginning of the storm, and was ravenous with the pangs of hunger.
Suddenly a rattling noise told Brick that the slab of rock was loose, and a moment later he heard it tumble in with a dull crash.
He gave himself up for lost.
Let us return, for a short time, to Hamp and Jerry.
Spurred on by mortal fear, they turned all the curves of the tunnel with a speed and accuracy that they could scarcely have excelled by the light of a lantern. Not until they tumbled breathlessly into the cabin, and scrapeda match, did they discover Brick’s absence. Then the tumult of sounds that rang out behind them told a plain tale.
“He’s taken refuge in the storehouse,” cried Jerry, “and the catamount is trying to get at him.”
“That’s just it,” echoed Hamp. “Come on, quick, or we’ll be too late.”
In three minutes—an eternity to poor Brick—they were crawling rapidly back through the tunnel. Jerry had a rifle, and Hamp a double-barreled shotgun loaded with big shot. From one side of Jerry’s belt swung the lantern, and in the other was thrust a bunch of pine boughs soaked in oil. As the boys advanced, they heard Brick’s cries for help, mingled with the screeching of the catamount.
“So far he’s safe,” whispered Jerry. “I’ll shoot first, and you be ready to follow.”
“I’ll give the brute both barrels, if they’re needed,” muttered Hamp.
They were now at the wall of the ravine, and a moment later they turned into the passage that led to the storehouse. The rocks were in sight, but no catamount. Evidently the creature was inside. A loud scratching and whining mingled with Brick’s hoarse cries.
The boys crept nearer and nearer. They were trembling a little now, but they went pluckily on.
Suddenly a dull crash was heard, and Brick’s voice rose instantly to a shrill pitch. The boys shouted in return, and Jerry quickly lighted his torch.
The racket brought the catamount out from the storehouse like a streak. The ugly beast glared at the boys and the torch. He was hungry for the former, but afraid of the latter. He realized that he was outmatched, and, turning his tail, he bounced into the passage that led to the lake, wailing like a spoiled child.
It all happened so quickly that Jerry lost the opportunity he wanted. He dashed to the angle, and pitched the torch far ahead. It flared up brightly, showing the beast in a crouching attitude on the edge of the gloom. Jerry took a quick aim, and fired.
The report rang out with stunning violence. Its echoes were followed by a dismal wail and a shower of snow clods from the roof of the tunnel, some of which extinguished the torch. When the smoke lifted, the catamount had disappeared, though it was doubtless not far away.
With a glad cry of welcome, Brick crawled out from the storehouse, coat in hand. His sleeveless arm was stained with blood, and the wound proved to consist of several severe scratches.
“You just came in time, fellows,” he said. “The beast had knocked my barricade down, and in a few seconds more he would have had me. Do you think you hit him?”
“I don’t believe it,” growled Jerry. “Seems to me I can’t shoot worth a cent any more. Still, I didn’t have a fair shot. But we had better be getting back to the cabin instead of fooling away time here.”
“You bet we had,” assented Hamp. “It’s the only safe place. That catamount will be after us again, or he ain’t the kind of an Indian devil I take him for.”
Brick was nervously anxious to start, and at once took the lead of his companions. They hurried around angle after angle, and when they were half-way through the final passage, they heard the creature’s pattering strides behind them.
Brick and Hamp bolted into the cabin. Jerry paused on the threshold, and wheeled around. He was frightened to see the catamount within six feet of him. But he kept a cool head, and lifted his rifle, which he had meanwhile reloaded. There was no time to hesitate. He aimed, and pulled the trigger.
With the stunning report that followed, he rolled backward into the cabin and sprang to his feet. A frightful scream of blended rage and agony echoed through the tunnel, and the startled boys hastily pushed the sled against the door. Then they backed off, and waited. Jerry disengaged the still burning lantern from his belt, and placed it on the floor.
Another horrid scream, pitched in a strain of mortal agony. Then a bang and a crash. Away went the sled, and plump into the cabin tumbled the wounded and infuriated catamount.
It was well for the lads that Hamp retained his presence of mind. Like a flash the double barreled shotgun went to his shoulder. Twice he pulled the trigger.
Bang, bang! a rasping screech mingled with the stunning reports. Then all was still. When the curtain of powder smoke slowly lifted, the quaking boys saw their ferocious enemy quivering in his death throes on the blood-stained pine boughs.
CHAPTER XIV.A HERD OF DEER.
Such a cheering arose as might have been heard far off in the forest. The praises and congratulations of his companions brought a ruddy flush to Hamp’s cheeks.
“It wasn’t anything to do,” he protested, modestly. “When the creature bounced in, I just up and fired. Jerry gets the most credit.”
“No, I don’t, either,” declared Jerry. “My rifleball took him in the shoulder, and your charges of buckshot went through the head. You saved our lives, Hamp, for the brute was crazy with pain, and would have torn us to pieces.”
“That’s so,” assented Brick. “I thought it was all up with us when Hamp fired. Well, we’re rid of a mighty ugly enemy. You fellows may be glad you weren’t in my shoes when the beast had me penned up in the crevice back of the storehouse.”
When the excitement of their recent adventures had passed off, the boys discovered that they were very sleepy. The night was well advanced, so they turned in without delay, permitting the lantern to burn dimly. They were not inclined to lie down in darkness with the dead catamount.
Morning seemed to come quickly. The boys were astirearly, and had breakfast over by eight o’clock. Then they crept out to the mouth of the tunnel, and were disappointed to find that the weather was unfavorable for departure. A fine rain was falling from a sodden, gray sky, and the air was quite warm and moist.
“It feels as though a change was coming,” said Jerry. “I believe it will clear off by evening and get cold. Then a crust will form on the snow over night, and we can start early to-morrow morning.”
“I hate to spend another day in this cooped-up place,” replied Brick, mournfully.
“It can’t be helped,” declared Hamp. “We don’t want to travel in the rain. Keep your spirits up, old fellow. The time won’t seem long.”
“You’re right it won’t,” assented Jerry. “We’ve got a lot to do. First of all, the catamount must be taken away from the cabin and skinned. Then we ought to make a search back in the woods for those men. I’m worried about them.”
The others shared Jerry’s anxiety, but it was agreed to postpone the expedition until afternoon.
The boys went back to the cabin, and tied a rope about the catamount’s neck. After a great deal of trouble, they succeeded in dragging the body to the mouth of the tunnel.
Then they set to work with sharp knives and removed the skin in good condition. The carcass was hauled out on the ice, where it would ultimately be devoured by wolves.
After a cold dinner, the boys donned snowshoes and oilskin coats and sallied forth again. They traveled downthe lake as far as the point where they had seen the men make a crossing. Then they entered the forest, and tramped backward and forward for several hours.
But not a trace could be found of the two prospectors, Raikes and Bogle, or their camp. The boys searched long and carefully, and varied their shouts by firing guns at frequent intervals. No reply came back. The stillness of death reigned in the forest.
“It’s no use,” declared Jerry. “We may as well give up and return. I don’t suppose the men had more than a campfire, and the traces of that are buried under the snow.”
“But what became of them?” asked Hamp.
“I don’t know,” replied Jerry. “I’m sure they’re not dead, anyhow.”
“I’ll bet they packed up and left for a safer neighborhood as soon as they knew the storm was coming,” said Brick. “They didn’t leave since, for we would see their tracks on the snow.”
“That’s about it,” assented Jerry. “No doubt they struck back toward the mountains. They didn’t worry about us, for Raikes knew how snugly we were fixed.”
This solution to the mystery was accepted, and the boys returned to their camp.
On the way back Jerry shot a brace of spruce partridges, and these made a savory supper, varied with two fresh pickerel which Hamp snared through a hole in the ice.
A blazing fire was made at the mouth of the tunnel, and here the meal was cooked and eaten.
Jerry’s prediction as to the weather had come true. No rain was falling, and the air was much crisper and colder. By nine o’clock the stars were shining from a steel-blue sky.
The boys went to bed early, so as to be fresh for the morrow’s journey. They rose at daybreak, hurried down a cold breakfast, and packed the sleds. This was a task that required some skill, for the ordinary luggage was augmented by the catamount’s skin and the antlers of the buck.
Then, with feelings of mingled regret and pleasure, the boys looked their last on the snug little cabin where they had witnessed such stirring scenes, and crawled through the tortuous passages of the tunnel, dragging the sleds behind them. They strapped on their snowshoes, and started directly across the lake.
The walking was mostly over smooth ice, though here and there was a formidable snowdrift piled up by an eddying wind.
The distant line of forest gradually became more distinct, and an hour before noon the young travelers reached the eastern shore of Moosehead Lake. They were not more than two miles from the upper end, and after a brief consultation, they decided to push straight on for Chesumcook Lake, which was about twenty miles away.
“You will like the neighborhood,” Jerry assured Brick. “Game is plenty, and there are lots of good camping-places. Chesumcook is an awful long lake, only it’s narrow. The Penobscot River flows out of it.”
Brick was willing to do anything that his companionsproposed, so they plunged into the fragrant spruce woods, and pushed rapidly over the crusted snow.
At the end of two or three miles a range of pretty steep hills were encountered, and after dragging the sleds over one of the ridges, the boys were badly winded. They trudged on at a slower rate of speed, making wide detours to reach a gap whenever such a plan was feasible.
About midafternoon they found themselves traversing a narrow and heavily-timbered valley. Through the center brawled a noisy torrent that was too swift to freeze. On either side rose steep, pine-clad hills.
“There ought to be some small game hereabouts,” said Jerry. “It’s soon time to look up a camping-place for the night, and I’m hungry for a supper of fresh meat.”
“So am I,” muttered Brick. “I hate the smell of salt pork and bacon.”
The boys pushed warily ahead through the dense bushes, looking to right and left. They kept their weapons ready for instant use.
Hamp was several yards in advance. Suddenly he stopped, and held up a warning hand. His face was ablaze with excitement as he turned to his companions.
“Look there!” he gasped. “How’s that for luck? Don’t make a sound.”
The boys crept excitedly forward, and looked through the bushes which Hamp was holding apart with one hand. Then their eyes opened wide, and they shook with feverish ardor.
Over the top of the scrub, and less than sixty yards distant, rose the branching antlers of a huge buck. Close bywas a second buck, and the reddish-gray flanks of several other deer were visible. As they moved about on the snow, the rasping crunch of their hoofs could be plainly heard.
“What a glorious sight,” whispered Hamp. “It’s a whole herd of deer, as sure as anything. They’re not looking this way, but it’s funny they haven’t scented us. The wind is from the west, and blows straight down the ravine.”
“Let me try a shot at that big fellow?” pleaded Brick, in a tremulous voice.
“Not for the world,” whispered Jerry. “The range is too long, and we can’t crawl any closer without being discovered. There must be a salt lick down there, and the deer are feeding. I’ve got a great scheme, fellows, and if we work it properly, we’re sure to make a big haul of venison. You two go back a short distance, and climb the hill on the left, without making a bit of noise. Follow the ridge for more than a quarter of a mile, and then climb down to the valley again. I’ll take Brick’s watch, and wait right here with the sleds. I’ll give you thirty-five minutes, and when time is up, I’ll try to get a shot at one of the deer. The minute I fire, the whole herd will dash down the valley, and if you fellows are well posted on opposite sides, you ought to get one a piece without any trouble.”
The boys heard the plan with enthusiasm, and at once prepared to start. Brick took out his watch, and gave it to Jerry.
“What gun do you want?” asked Hamp.
“I’ll keep the shotgun,” replied Jerry. “You fellows had better take both along. You understand the plan, do you? Well, don’t make any mistake, and avoid noise. Keep up the center of the valley for a hundred feet before you start to climb the hill. Go ahead now. I’m beginning to count time.”