THE TRAIL IN THE SNOW
Wonder, amazement, then anger. After the first exclamation of surprise
the boys stepped quickly into the great living room, looked in all
directions. Not a word passing from one to the other for several
minutes.
“Ransacked! Robbed!” at last Frank managed to think aloud for himself
and the rest of the boys.
Knives, forks and spoons gone, hanging lamps gone, several of their
most useful cooking utensils gone, their fishing tackle gone, the stock
of ammunition gone, every can and package of food gone! Completely
ransacked!
Frank yanked open the heavy front door and peered outside. There,
plainly visible, though covered a little by the snow, were tracks in
the white blanket that carpeted the earth to show that several men had
come in by this way and had left by this way!
The boys stood looking at the trail of footprints out to the main trail
along the lake.
“They came in here just at the end of that snowstorm--which means some
time early this morning,” said Frank, decisively.
“Leaving not a thing to eat nor eat it with!” Lanky Wallace roamed back
to look at the scene of devastation.
“It’s the work of that fellow Jeek!” explosively said Frank Allen,
shutting the front door, walking back to the others.
The boys stood and discussed the situation in its every detail, trying
first to ascertain what they should do.
“Well,” remarked Lanky after the talk had run on for a while, “we’ve
got venison outside--better cut it up right away and take care of it.
We can cook it over the fire in here, and if we are without knives and
forks, we yet have our hands with good fingers on them.”
“Yes,” said Buster as he came around from another search over the
shelves, “they left us some salt and pepper, I notice, and they also
left us that big fork over there on the hook. They didn’t take the
dishes, so we can eat venison before we have to start home.”
“We’re not going to start home!” Frank spoke up very sharply. “We’re
going to find these fellows. They can’t come in and rob a place without
having some trouble about it!”
Though the other boys had said nothing about that side of it, they
agreed with their leader heartily in his attitude, starting to lay
plans at once.
“It looks as if this fellow Jeek has finally decided to get even for
killing his dog. He thinks he can chase us back to town by getting all
our food--but that’s stealing!” exclaimed Frank. “He has left tracks in
the snow, a perfect trail, and we’ll follow it up to the end.”
“When do we start?” asked Lanky, ready to go.
Frank walked again to the door, looked out at the weather, saw the
clouds were low again, that it was getting dark, and wondered whether
an immediate start were not the best.
“Not at once!” he decided, turning back to the waiting boys. “We have
come a long distance on a small amount of food. We have the stuff
that was left--that’s that much. And we have the venison. Let’s turn
to right now, prepare that deer for the feast, cook it on the fire in
here, get our bodies well fit to take care of the trip--and then go
after these fellows.”
“But it looks as if a snow might come and cover up the trail,”
suggested Paul.
Frank agreed this was right, but the chance had to be taken, since
without sustenance they would stand a poor chance of putting up a
battle against these men--not necessarily a battle of weapons or of
fists, but a battle to outwit them and get their goods once more in
their possession.
Though the camping expedition had seemed to be wiped out, though
enthusiasm was for a time at a very low ebb, the youthful view of
the silver lining behind the blackest of clouds came to their aid.
Enthusiasm once more entered their systems, the deer was cut properly
after having been skinned, and the quarters allowed to hang for a while
in the open to freeze. All the animal heat had disappeared while they
brought it across the lake, but they wished to make sure. And a few
more hours would do no harm, provided it did not snow.
At mid-afternoon they started the roasting process, one hour later they
were feasting around the great broad oaken table, using their fingers
where knives and forks had heretofore been in use, but with appetites
that had been whetted to a keen edge.
When they had finished their dinner of venison, the boys carefully
cleaned up, hid away the remainder of the food which they had brought
back from the over-lake expedition, pulled their guns down from the
mantel, cleaned them, and made general preparations to follow the trail
in the snow.
“We’ve got to find where that trail leads, then we have to decide,
after we get on the ground, what to do,” said Frank. “We can’t make our
plans too far ahead.”
Even as they were talking over matters and were getting down their
weapons, Lanky bethought himself of something which he had seen a few
days before, and he wondered if, by any chance, he might see the same
thing. Out of the room he went, through the great door at the front of
the cabin, and looked into the snow to study the tracks.
Here and there the snow, just the last few flakes which had fallen, had
almost obliterated the tracks of the feet; that is, the sharpness was
dulled to some extent. But, not content with the sight of the first
tracks nearest the door, Lanky bent far over and followed them for a
distance of almost a hundred yards.
In the meanwhile, attracted by the sudden decision of the lean
fellow, the other boys had gone to one of the windows, and from this
vantage-point they watched the peculiar actions of their friend.
But Lanky, just about to give up, discovered what he had gone out to
find, and came running back to the cabin, waving to the boys as he saw
them looking out at him. They opened the door hurriedly, asking what he
had found.
“Had an idea in the old bean!” he exclaimed, entering the door and
pushing the boys back. “Listen, Frank! Remember what we noticed the
other day down at Todds--the print with the metal crescent on it? Well,
it’s here! Sure as shooting! Come on out here and I’ll show it to you.”
He led the way out of the cabin, Frank alongside, as they took two
sides of the tracks, so that they would not be obliterated, and Lanky
led straight to the particular prints which he had found. Frank stooped
over to look, the other two boys following inquisitively.
“There it is. Plain as day. The print with the crescent mark on the
left heel. That bird that was at Todds is also along with the fellows
who looted our cabin. See?” and he pointed to the marks which were so
evident at a spot where the snow had failed to hide the prints from
view.
“I also notice there are four men this trail,” said Frank, as he more
carefully studied the tracks. “The next question is, who can the four
be? Jeek had two others with him, which makes three. Of the tramps
there were only two. Now, where do the four come in?”
This question was too hard for the boys just now. They thought over it
for a few minutes, but decided to give it up.
There was no time to be wasted. The skies had not cleared and the
chances were yet they would have more snow.
Frank suggested they go back to the cabin and get ready to leave
at once. This they did. Coming out of the cabin, each one armed,
everything in thorough readiness, they proceeded to follow the trail
through the snow.
It did not lead to the trail along the lake, but crossed this at a
point a quarter of a mile away from the cabin, and started for the
mountains alongside those in which the boys had been two days before
when they encountered the bear and the snakes.
It was difficult to follow, inasmuch as the snow had not yet packed
down hard, and because they wished to be sure when the trail made any
change.
Though they chatted a little, a word here and there, in general they
kept their eyes glued to the trail in the snow.
Of a sudden they saw a division in the trail--two of the tracks led up
toward the mountains while two others turned sharply to the left and
took a direction back to the lake trail.
“There were four!” exclaimed Frank. “They divided here, two of them
going one way and two the other. Now, the question is, which way do we
follow? Which of these two sets of fellows has our stuff?”
“Why, the ones who are going up into the hills, of course,” Lanky
answered promptly. “Let’s follow that way, and if we’re wrong we can
come back and go the other.”
Still Frank stood at the dividing of the trail in the snow, not yet
decided on which way he should lead. When he finally reached the
conclusion that Lanky’s suggestion might be the best, he turned and
started up the mountain side, keeping in the tracks.
“I notice the print with the crescent shaped piece on the heel has
disappeared,” said Lanky after they had proceeded several yards. “You
fellows go ahead--I’m going back to see if it goes the other way.”
Leaving them, he darted down the path again, reached the division of
the trails, studying the prints closely which led away from this one.
There, plain as day, step by step, he could see the print, plainer now
than it had been when they started, showing that the snowfall had ended
when the men got this far.
By the time he had rejoined the boys they had proceeded up the trail
several hundred yards, finding the climb growing more difficult as they
went, but undaunted by any such hardship.
At the crest of this high hill they looked down into another glen, but
noticed that the tracks turned to the left to follow a small plateau
which connected with another mountain in that direction.
Frank strained his eyes to discover any sign of habitation, but saw
nothing that might indicate the presence of living beings. Not a sign
of smoke, no hut nor cabin, just the snow everywhere, with these
tracks leading across the plateau.
“Do you think we ought to make any effort to hide so as not to be seen
as we go?” asked Buster.
“Hardly any use to try,” dryly remarked Frank. “We have to follow this
trail, and our hope merely lies in the trees here and there which might
protect us from being seen. I am wondering whether they might expect us
to follow them.”
Lanky expressed the opinion that they expected the boys to break camp
and start for home when they saw their cabin had been despoiled of all
useful and necessary articles.
“Here’s where they drop into that valley,” Frank remarked when they had
gone another quarter of a mile. “Wonder if this leads to a cabin or
anything of the kind. Maybe it goes to a cave.”
“They’d fit well in a cave full of snakes!” snorted Paul Bird. “Just
where they belong!”