CHAPTER XXX.FOUND STARVING.
With the screech owl in Jack’s game-bag, the two boys continued on their way up the creek.
It was something to have bagged even the carnivorous bird, and they felt elated to think that at last something had appeared to be shot at.
By twelve o’clock they calculated that they were close on to two miles from camp. Each was hungry, and another halt was called for the purpose of eating the scanty lunch with which they had provided themselves before starting off.
“We must not go too far off,” said Harry. “For it will never do to attempt to remain away over night in this fearful storm.”
“That’s true,” returned Jack. “By three o’clock, game or no game, we will turn our faces homeward again.”
“If it would only stop snowing, it wouldn’t be so bad. But this storm is the worst I’ve seen in years!”
“It’s a corker, truly! But come on. Every minute counts now!”
Once more they pushed on, the snow swirling around their heads. Their legs ached, and it was an effort to make the smallest kind of progress. The cold, too, was intense, and at times seemed to strike into the very marrow of their bones.
By the time they had covered another mile they grew discouraged. Not the first sign of game of any kind had appeared.
“I move we leave the creek,” said Harry, at last. “We won’t go very far off, and we’ll locate the way so as not to get lost.”
“All right, we’ll try it, although it isn’t a safe thing to do, Harry. But we must risk something for the sake of filling our game-bags.”
“There is a hollow over to our left, with an overhanging cliff of bushes and trees. I have an idea we may find something under that. It would afford a good shelter for wild animals.”
“Like a wildcat, for instance,” laughed Jack.
“Well, I guess wildcat is just as good to eat as screech owl, if only we can lay him out without our being torn to pieces.”
Taking a good look around, so as to locate the vicinity in their minds, they struck out in the direction Harry had indicated. The creek was soon left behind, and they found themselves going down the side of a long hill.
Luckily, there was a bare stretch on the hillside, otherwise they would have been compelled to move on in snow up to their waists. But the cleared run was where the wind blew the strongest, and this now took them almost off their feet.
“Never mind; we’ll be safe under the rocks and brush,” shouted Harry, to his companion, above the roaring of the storm. “Look out so that you don’t roll down into some hole and out of sight!”
“My! but it’s awful!” cried Jack. “Here, give me your hand, or we will be separated and won’t be able to find each other again.”
They took hold of hands, and the next instant the wind threw them down on the hillside and rolled them over and over to the bottom.
They landed in a doubled-up mass in the midst of a large drift. Jack went in head first, with Harry behind him. For a moment there was nothing to do but to flounder around until they could regain their feet.
“Ugh! but that was a cold dose!” cried Jack, as he scraped the snow from around his neck and wrists. “We came down with a rush, didn’t we?”
“Yes, we did that,” returned Harry. “It’s a good thing our guns didn’t go off in the tumble.”
It was no easy matter to extricate themselves from the big drift. The snow was all around them, and at the very first step forward, they went down to their armpits.
“Hold on!” cried Harry, in alarm. “Turn up the hill, or we’ll be over our heads!”
So they turned about and half walked, half crawled up to solid ground. Here they could hardly keep their feet, so strong was the wind.
“There is a clear space to our left,” said Jack. “Come on! We will soon be under the cliff!”
Away he went, with Harry close behind him. The shelter under the trees and bushes was not less than two hundred feet away.
As they advanced, a peculiar sound broke upon theirears. Jack heard it first, and called Harry’s attention to it.
“What can it be?” he said.
“Sounds like some sort of a bird,” replied Harry. “Let us have our guns ready. We do not wish to lose any game, now we have come so far for it.”
On they went, with caution now, and their shotguns ready for instant use. They were within a hundred feet of the shelter, and could see the dim outline through the driving snow.
“Wild turkeys!” suddenly called Harry. “Be careful, we must get as many of them as we can!”
He motioned to a little cleared space just ahead. Then, with guns pointed, they ran forward.
Bang! bang! Both of the firearms spoke in rapid succession. There was a rush and a strange squawking sound, and then the greater part of a flock of wild turkeys had disappeared in the storm. But the heavy charges had hit three of them, and they were now floundering around in their death struggles. The boys ran forward and soon put them out of their misery.
“That’s a good haul!” cried Jack, enthusiastically. “Now we won’t starve for a day or two at least.”
“Right you are,” returned Harry, as he picked the game up, placed two in his own bag and one in his companion’s, and hurried to reload. “But we mustn’t miss any other game that may be here.”
“Certainly not,” said Jack, and he reloaded also, and away they went along the bottom of the cliff.
In a few minutes they stirred up a whole flock of wildbirds of several kinds from the brush under the rocks. They fired in the midst of them, bringing down several woodcock and three sparrows.
“That isn’t bad,” said Jack, as he picked up the woodcock and allowed the sparrows to remain where they were. “It was a good idea of yours to come here.”
“I was in hopes we might strike a deer,” returned Harry. “But we have now about as much as we can conveniently carry through such traveling as this.”
“There ought to be some rabbits or hares here, under the old brush. Let us walk to the end of the shelter and——”
“There’s something now!” shouted Harry, raising his gun. “Half-a-dozen hares, as sure as you’re born! Quick, Jack!”
Once more the two shotguns spoke, and two of the hares were seen to leap into the air and turn over in a heap. When the two boys reached the spot they found their prizes stone dead, each shot through the head. All the other hares had disappeared behind a thick mass of brush, where they could not follow them.
“Now we’ve got enough, surely,” said Harry, as they divided the game between them. “Wild turkeys, hares, woodcock and an owl, not to mention those sparrows. Who could ask for more?”
Jack did not reply, as he was busy getting out his watch.
“Phew! How late do you suppose it is?” he cried.
“Three o’clock?”
“Quarter-past four! We must start back at once!”
“I should say so!” exclaimed Harry. “It’s going to be a job to get up out of this hollow and find the creek again, and it will be dark before we know it.”
“Not only that; but the snow is coming down in perfect blankets. We’ll be buried in spite of ourselves if we don’t put our best foot forward.”
“Come on down to the end of the shelter and make a beeline for the creek,” said Harry, as he slung his gun over his shoulder. “We can escape some of the wind by going that way.”
To this Jack agreed, and in another minute they started off side by side.
They had almost reached the end of the overhanging rocks when a low cry of distress broke upon their ears. They came to a halt, and gazed at each other in wonder.
“What was that?”
“It sounded like a human voice.”
“Help! help!” came faintly to their ears, and now they located the cry. It proceeded from a small cave-like opening but a few feet away.
They ran forward, and a moment later saw a sight that appalled them beyond measure.
There in the snow, huddled in a miserable group, were Pete Sully, Bill Dixon and Len Spencer, a fixed look of despair on each of their pinched and frozen faces.
“Why, Sully——” began Harry.
“Give me something to eat, please!” broke in the big fellow, staggering to his feet. “Something to eat!”
“Yes, yes, give us something to eat!” chimed in Bill Dixon and Len Spencer, imploringly.
Harry and Jack looked at them in amazement. A single glance was enough. The bully of Rudskill and his companions were almost starved to death!