A SLIDE DOWN THE MOUNTAIN SIDE
"My gracious, Dick! It sure is snowing some now!"
"Yes, and it is getting colder every minute."
"If we don't get out of the mountains putty quick we'll be snowed in,"
came from Jack Wumble.
"Did you calkerlate to git back to Dawson afore winter sot in?"
inquired Ike Furner, curiously.
"Why of course!" cried Sam.
"I don't see how you are goin' to make it."
"Oh, we must get back," said Dick. "If only we could find Tom," he
added, with a sigh.
It was fully an hour after they had left the campfire at the entrance
to the cave of the mountain. They had walked to the chasm where they
thought Tom might have had a tumble and crossed and recrossed it
several times. But they had found no traces of the missing Rover boy.
"If only we knew whether he went down in that opening!" said Sam, for
at least the tenth time. "Dick, do you suppose we can climb down into
it?"
"Not without a rope, Sam. The sides are too steep and slippery."
Time and again they called down. But no answer came back. If Tom was
down there he was either unconscious or dead.
And now it had begun to snow harder than ever. The air was so full of
the white flakes that they could not see ten feet in any direction. It
was a typical Alaskan snowstorm. There was a sweep to the wind that
found the very marrow of their bones.
What to do next the Rovers did not know, nor could the two miners
suggest anything. Finally, however, Ike Furner mentioned something
that set the youths to thinking.
"See here!" he cried. "The old tree is gone!"
"What tree?" asked all three of the others.
"Why, the big hemlock as was hangin' over the cliff. She was a
whopper, I kin tell you--biggest tree in these parts."
"Where was that tree?" asked Dick.
"Right here, whar you see the holes. The snow has covered the spot
putty well, but I know the tree was here when we come up."
"It must have been that tree we heard sliding down the mountain side,"
exclaimed Dick. "Maybe Tom didn't go down into the chasm at all, but
slid down the mountain on the tree!"
"That's so!" put in Sam, eagerly. "And he may not be hurt!"
"Well, a slide like thet wouldn't be anything to sneeze at," remarked
Jack Wumble. "Especially if the tree took to rollin' over an' over!"
"I'm goin' to investigate," said Dick, and commenced to crawl out on
the edge of the cliff.
"You be careful!" roared Wumble. "It's slippery an' dangerous out
there!"
"Let us join hands," suggested Sam, and this was done, all forming a
chain, to keep Dick from going over the edge of the cliff. He took the
torch in one hand, that he might light the way in the darkness and the
flying snow.
At last Dick found himself on the very edge of the cliff at the point
where the giant tree had stood. To his surprise the cliff was not
perpendicular there, but formed a slope leading to another ridge some
fifty feet below. What was beneath this was hidden from view by the
falling snow.
"I think I can crawl down there," he said to the others. "Anyway, I am
going to try it."
"Wait! I've got a lariat in my pack," said Ike Furner. "I'll git
that. It will be better'n nuthin'." And off he sped for the article
mentioned.
When he came back Dick tied one end of the lariat around his waist, and
while the others held fast he crawled down the slope. He had to keep
on his hands and knees, and once he slipped a distance of several
yards, the others stopping him with a jerk.
"Be careful--the lariat might snap!" sang out Sam.
"It's better walking down here," answered Dick. "I think----"
He did not finish, for just then his body swung down into a hollow,
filled with snow and with some dripping water that had commenced to
freeze. There was a snap, and the end of the lariat came back in the
faces of those above.
"There he goes!" yelled Jack Wumble, and pointed down to where the
torch could be seen whirling around and around. Soon it was hidden
from view by the snow.
"Dick! Dick!" yelled Sam. "Are you safe?"
A yell came back, but what was said those above could not make out.
Sam's face went white, and he looked inquiringly at Jack Wumble.
"Where do you suppose he went to?" asked Ike Furner.
Wumble shook his head.
"Don't know, unless he slid clar down to the valley," he returned.
"This is certainly the wust yet."
"I'm going down after him," said Sam, bravely.
"Be careful, lad, it may cost ye your life."
"I don't care--I'm going to find Dick--and Tom, too."
The youngest Rover was just worked up enough to be reckless. And when
Sam got that way nothing could hold him back.
"I'm going back, to get something to eat for all hands--in case we need
it," he said. "Then I'll crawl down somehow and learn the truth. If
Tom and Dick are all right, I'll fire one shot from my pistol. Then
you'll know we are coming up as soon as possible. If I fire two shots
you'll know we are all right, but we can't come up right away. If I
fire three shots you'll know I need help. In that case come down,
packs and all, and we'll find some kind of a camping spot below."
So it was settled, and having gone back to where the traps had been
left, the youngest Rover made up a small bundle for himself, and also
procured another torch. The others accompanied him to where Dick had
disappeared.
"I hate to see ye leavin' me," said Jack Wumble, with feeling. "Maybe
it would be better to wait till mornin', when it was lighter."
"No, Jack, I can't wait--and have Dick down there, and Tom, too. For
all we know, both of them may be dying!"
That was all Sam said, and to this the old miner could not reply. Ike
Furner looked on, but did not open his mouth. He was waiting to hear
the full particulars concerning the young man he had known as Brill
Thomas.
Down and down went Sam, the snow soon hiding the two miners from his
view. He had to proceed with care, fearing a tumble such as his big
brother had taken. Where there was water, ice was forming on the
rocks, making the descent more dangerous than ever.
"I don't know how a fellow is to get back that way," he said to
himself. "Guess we'll have to walk around by the trail."
It was now intensely cold and the wind was blowing almost a gale. He
was glad when he reached something of a hollow, where he could crouch
down and regain his breath.
"Dick! Dick!" he cried, many times, but no answer came back. Either
his brother was too far away to hear him or was too badly hurt to make
reply.
Down and down climbed Sam until he felt he must be approaching the foot
of the mountain. He had his torch still in hand, having often carried
it in his teeth while holding fast. In some spots the snow was now
over a foot deep, and his footing was, consequently, more uncertain
than ever.
Suddenly he found himself on the edge of a small cliff, the last on the
mountain side. Without knowing it, he had crossed the trail leading
upward three times. He stepped on some ice on the rocks, and the next
instant was launched into space.
Sam had no time to get scared. Forth into the descending snow he was
tossed, and down he went, to land first in a tree and then in some
thick bushes growing close by. The wind was knocked completely out of
him, and for the moment he could not move.
"Phew! that was a tumble!" he murmured, as he tried to sit up. He was
wedged so tightly in the bushes that he could scarcely move. It was
far from a pleasant situation, yet he realized that coming down first
on the tree and then in the bushes had saved him from broken bones if
not from death. He was considerably scratched up, but just then paid
no attention to the hurts.
At last he managed to crawl out on the ground, or rather the snow,
which was deeper in the valley than it had been up on the mountain.
His torch had been extinguished, so all was dark around him.
"Dick!" he called, as loudly as he could. "Dick, are you anywhere
around?"
"Sam!" came the faint reply. "Is that you? Yes, I am over here. Help
me. I am wedged in between the trees and can't move!"
"Is Tom down here too?"
"I don't know."