THE SEARCH
It was a most anxious night for everybody at Snow Camp. The thought
of the six girls adrift in the blizzard kept most of the household
awake, Long Jerry Todd, the guide, remained in the kitchen, on the
watch for the first break in the storm. The others retired, all but
Mr. Cameron and Tom, who sat before the fire in the living hall.
"I couldn't sleep anyway," said Tom, "with Helen and Ruth out in the
cold. It's dreadful, Dad. I feel that we boys are partly to blame,
too."
"How's that?" his father asked him.
"Why, the girls were mad with us. I let Isadore go too far with his
joking," and he told Mr. Cameron about the spoiled taffy. "If we
hadn't done that to them of course they wouldn't have gone into the
woods without us--"
"But I am afraid you lads would have been no more cautious than the
girls," interposed Mr. Cameron. "This storm would have taken you by
surprise just the same."
"But we could have been with them and helped them."
"I have great faith in that little Fielding girl's good sense--and
Madge Steele is to be trusted," said his father. "Don't blame
yourself, boy. It was something entirely unforeseen."
Several times during the night Mr. Cameron tried to communicate with
the neighbors over the telephone; but some disaster had overtaken the
line and it probably could not be repaired until after the storm.
About five o'clock Long Jerry came into the room. He had been out
into the storm, for he was covered with snow.
"How does it look?" asked Mr. Cameron, earnestly.
"She's going to break with sun-up," prophesied the woodsman. "I've
been feeding the cattle and I've got the other men up. If it breaks
at all, we three'll start for the neighbors and rouse a gang to help
beat the woods."
"But hadn't we better try to find the girls at once, Jerry?" queried
Tom.
"We'll need a large party, Master Tom," said the guide. "We must
cover a deal of ground, and the more men we have who are used to the
trail, the better. If it stops snowing we can get around to the
neighbors on snowshoes easier than any other way. The drifts are
packed hard. I had to tunnel out of the kitchen door. The snow has
banked up to the second story gallery."
"They'll be buried yards under this snow," groaned Tom.
"Keep up your courage," said Long Jerry, cheerfully. "If them gals
was sharp at all they'd find some shelter and make a fire."
"If they had matches," said Mr. Cameron, doubtfully.
"Ruth had matches, I know," said Tom.
"Oh, we'll find them safe and sound," declared the guide.
One of Long Jerry's prophecies was fulfilled within the hour. The
storm broke. Tom had aroused his friends and the three boys had
enlarged the tunnel through the snow from the back porch into the
yard, and were shoveling a passageway to the stables. The last flakes
of the blizzard fluttered down upon them, and the tail of the gale
blew the clouds to tatters and revealed the almost black sky with the
stars sparkling like points of living fire.
"Hurrah!" cried Bob Steele. "It's over!"
The guide and the two other men were already getting on their
snowshoes, having eaten hurriedly by the kitchen fire. They started
out at once to rouse the neighbors. By sunrise the sky was entirely
clear and the visitors to the backwoods could climb to the second
floor gallery of the lodge and look out over the great drifts. In
places the snow was heaped fifteen feet high; but the men shuffled
off over these drifts and back again as easily as they would have
walked on six inches of snow.
They brought with them six other men, who also sat down to breakfast
in the big kitchen, while Mr. Cameron and the boys and Mrs.
Murchiston finished their meal in the dining-room. To the surprise of
the visitors to the camp, one of the men whom Long Jerry had brought
in to help find the girls was the Rattlesnake Man, as he was called.
"We found him poking about the woods by himself, sir," said Long
Jerry, privately, to Mr. Cameron. "He says there's been a boy staying
with him for a while back, and that he started out hunting just
before the storm. The old hermit was looking for him. By what he
says, I believe it's the same boy you folks was bringing up here-the
one that claims to be Fred Hatfield."
"That poor fellow may have lost himself in the blizzard, too, eh?"
returned the merchant. "Let us hope we will find them all safely."
In fifteen minutes the whole party started from the lodge on
snowshoes, the boys dragging their toboggans and the men carrying
food and hot coffee in vacuum bottles. They separated into four
parties; the three boys and Jerry Todd kept together. Jerry believed
that the girls would have drifted some with the storm and therefore
he struck off due east from the house.
In an hour they came back to the bank of the stream near where Ruth
and Reno had their adventure with the panther.
"If old Reno had been well enough to come with us, he would have
scented them in a hurry," declared Tom. "See the creek! it's
completely smothered in snow."
They followed the course of the stream for some distance and found
the banks growing more steep. Suddenly Jerry began to sniff the keen
air, and in a moment he cried:
"There's a fire near, boys. Somebody is burning pine boughs--and
there isn't any house near, that I can swear to!"
They hurried on. Inside of half a mile Isadore descried a column of
blue smoke ahead. They began to shout at once, and it was not long
before answering cries delighted them.
"That's Madge yelling," declared Bob. "I'd know her warwhoop
anywhere."
Tom had set out as fast as he could travel, the toboggan jumping
after him over the drifts. Even Busy Izzy grew excited, and yelled
like a good fellow as he joined in the chase. They all ran down the
bed of the stream and reached a deep cut where the banks were very
high on either hand.
Up the white slope of the left hand bank was a small plateau on
which the fire was burning. Some sort of a camp had been established,
surrounded by an embankment of tramped snow. Over this fortress the
heads of all six of the girls became visible, all crying out to their
rescuers in such a medley of exclamations that no one was
understandable.
"Helen! Ruth!" cried Tom. "Are you all right?"
"We're right as right can be, Tommy," returned his sister, gaily.
"We're not!" squealed Jennie Stone. "We're almost starved to death.
If you haven't brought anything for us to eat, don't dare come up
here, for we've turned cannibals and we're just about to cast lots to
see who should first be sacrificed to the general good!"
But there was more than laughter to season this rescue. Some tears
of relief were shed, and even Isadore Phelps showed some shame-faced
joy that the catastrophe had resulted in no worse hardships for the
girls. He said to Heavy:
"I'm sorry I spoiled that old taffy. If you'd eaten your full share
of _that_ the other day, I expect you wouldn't have suffered so
from hunger."
The only person who was seriously troubled by the adventure was the
strange boy. He had suffered severely In the storm and now he could
scarcely move for pains in his back and legs. Otherwise it is
doubtful if he would not have run when he heard Long Jerry's voice
among the rescuers.
"Great turtle soup!" roared the guide, when he beheld the shrinking,
cowering boy. "How did you get here? Do you mean to say you are
alive, Fred Hatfield? Why, they buried you--"
"No, they didn't!" snarled the boy. "They only thought they did."
"And you've let 'em think all this time that you were shot--and poor
'Lias in jail? Well! you always was a mean little scamp, Fred
Hatfield!"
But Ruth would not let the guide scold the boy any more. "He's very
sick, Mr. Todd," she said. "He'll have to be carried to the lodge. I
believe it is rheumatism, and he ought to have a doctor at once."
"Lucky he is down and out, then," muttered the guide, "or I'd be
tempted to lay him across my knee and spank him right here and now!"
The girls were very thankful indeed for the hot drink and the food
that had been brought. Jerry signaled with his rifle and brought the
whole party to the spot within the hour, including the Rattlesnake
Man. But when the old hermit saw that the boy was found he would stop
no longer.
"Let his folks look after him. I gave him shelter; but he's a bad
boy, I reckon. And he doesn't like my children. I don't want anybody
about my place that doesn't like my children. Now, that little girl,"
he added, pointing to Ruth, "_she_ wasn't afraid of them; was
you?"
"Not much," returned Ruth, bravely. "And I'm coming to see you
again, sir, if I can."
"You may come at any time, and welcome," answered the Rattlesnake
Man, with a low bow. "Maybe you would like to learn how to handle my
pets," he added, with a queer grin.
"What, the snakes!" screamed Helen.
"No, I don't think I'd care to do that," replied Ruth.
"They would not hurt you-they soon learn to know their friends-and
they get to be as friendly as kittens," returned the hermit. "I have
a name for each one of them," he went on, somewhat proudly.
"Maybe I'll--I'll look at them-but I won't want to touch them,"
answered Ruth. A few minutes later the strange Rattlesnake Man took
his departure.
Fred Hatfield and the girls were all packed upon the sleds and drawn
over the snow to the camp, where the rescued and rescuers arrived in
safety before noon. But the girls had been through such an
experience, and were so exhausted, that as soon as dinner was over
they were commanded to go to bed, while one of the men started to
town for a doctor to attend young Hatfield.
"And be sure and take this letter to the sheriff," said Mr. Cameron.
"This foolish boy's brother must be released from jail at once. And
if his folks want him, they can come here to Snow Camp and take him
home," added the merchant, in some disgust. "I must say that it seems
as though pity would be wasted on Fred Hatfield."