A REMARKABLE CHRISTMAS NIGHT
Night came on rapidly after that, and with the coming of utter
darkness the fury of the elements appeared to increase. The wind
shrieked and whistled through the timber and hummed in the tops of the
spruces overhead. Occasionally they would hear a crash, as some mighty
tree would be laid low, and they trembled for fear the storm would
damage their shelter.
They were tremendously hungry and ate rather more of the lunch brought
along than Snap thought right. One of the ducks was cleaned and
broiled with care and half of the meat divided into four equal shares.
For drinking water they melted some snow, a little at a time, in a
drinking cup.
After the meal there remained nothing to do but to mind the fire and
go to sleep. They took turns at watching the blaze, each boy remaining
on guard two hours.
All night long the storm raged and the snow came down as thickly as
ever. As a consequence, when it began to grow a little brighter they
found that they were completely snowed in. On all sides the spruces
were nearly broken down with their weights of whiteness, and on the
opposite side of the rock where the fire was built was a drift of snow
eight to ten feet high. This gave them a little more shelter but cut
off a good share of the outlook.
"Merry Christmas!" cried Snap, as he got up and stretched himself as
well as he could under the low boughs.
"Merry Christmas!" cried all of the others, and then Whopper added:
"But it isn't very Merry, is it?"
"I don't see that broiled fish, and stuffed turkey, and cake and
pudding and candy and--" began Giant.
"Hold on, Giant, don't make us any more hungry than we are!"
interrupted the doctor's son. "We're here and we've got to make the
best of it, so don't croak."
"Oh, I'm not croaking," answered the smaller member of the Gun Club.
"I shall be satisfied if we get back to camp alive with such a snow
all around us."
"Giant, why didn't you hang up your stocking last night?" asked
Whopper, jokingly, and this brought forth a general snicker, and then
all the lads felt a trifle less blue.
Breakfast was certainly a slim affair, each person getting a small
bite of duck, two crackers, a spoonful of cold beans Shep had brought
along, and a drink of melted snow. Several gazed wistfully at the
rabbit, but Snap shook his head at them.
"We've got to save that," he said. "You know that as well as I do."
"Don't you suppose there are some birds or squirrels or rabbits around
here?" asked Shep.
"We can look--if the storm will let us."
Breakfast over, one after another of the young hunters went beyond the
clump of spruces to look around. But the weather was so wild, and the
snow so deep, all were glad to come back.
There was little of the holiday air in the gathering. All of the boys
were sober, for they fully realized the peril of their situation.
Their food would not last long, and where were they to get more?
At noon they had little more than a rabbit lunch--something that made
Whopper sigh as he thought of the big Christmas dinner he had thought
to feast upon.
"I think it is clearing a bit," said Shep, about three o'clock. "If we
want to move now is our chance to do so."
It was voted by all hands to move, and they started without delay.
They could not locate the exact route toward their camp, but made it
as nearly as possible. The snowdrifts were truly terrific, and even on
snowshoes they made slow progress.
"Wait, I see a rabbit!" cried Shep, presently, and he pointed to a
clump of bushes. Then he unslung his shotgun and pushed his way
forward. A gray head appeared over the rim of snow and he blazed away.
The rabbit gave a leap and fell dead.
"A little more to eat anyway," said the young hunter, as he put the
game in his bag.
"Wait, where there is one rabbit there are sometimes more," said Snap.
"Let us stir around a little and see."
They did as he suggested, and soon sent two rabbits skipping from
under a low-hanging tree. The rabbits could not run very well in the
deep snow and were secured with ease. But that was the last of the
game in that vicinity.
"Now we won't starve right away," said Snap, and gave a sigh of
satisfaction.
They were less than half way through the belt of timber when they came
to a spot where a big tree had been blown over by the wind. As they
walked around this Giant gave a cry, and, stepping between the
branches, brought forth a couple of dead squirrels.
"Killed by the fall, I suppose," he said.
"It's lucky for us," answered Shep, "for it means just so much more
food."
"Let us look for nuts,--the squirrels must have had some," came from
Snap.
They made a search, and soon found a hollow half filled with nuts and
took them all. Then they went on as before.
By the time they reached the end of the timber belt all were too
exhausted to go further and they looked around for another shelter of
some kind. They found several trees growing close together and in
something of a row.
"That will shelter us from the wind," said Snap, "although it is not
as good a place as the one we used last night."
They cut some tree branches, placed them from tree to tree and packed
on some snow. Then they lit another fire and banked up the snow on the
other side. By this time it was dark again and they were as hungry as
bears. They broiled two of the rabbits and ate every morsel and then
cracked a quantity of the nuts and picked out the meat.
"This is certainly a Christmas to remember," said Shep, as they sat in
front of the fire that evening. "I should like to know what the folks
are doing."
"Don't mention it," cried Giant. "It makes a fellow feel homesick."
They cut plenty of firewood, and in honor of the day built a blaze
that was to be seen a long distance off. This made them a little more
cheerful and they even cracked a few jokes. But with it all that
Christmas was far from a bright one. They were still miles from their
camp on Firefly Lake and all wondered if they would get back in
safety.