SNOWED IN.
With the coming of night the downfall of snow increased until it was
impossible to see a dozen feet in any direction. The wind also increased
in fury until it blew a regular gale. At first this was in their favor,
being directly on their backs and sending them over the ice at a furious
pace, but soon it shifted, first to the left and then to in front of
them, and now further progress appeared out of the question.
"I'm afraid we can't make it!" gasped Dick, turning to catch his breath.
"I'm almost winded now."
"I've got to stop," came from Sam. "I'm ready to drop."
"I can't see a thing," said Tom. "And I'm in mortal terror of skating
into some big air-hole."
"You are right, lads, we'll have to give up the idea of reaching camp
to-night," came from John Barrow seriously. "But where to take you to
out of this awful storm I scarcely know."
"Any kind of shelter will do," said Sam. "We can rig up a hut under some
big cedar tree."
"In that case, let us stick as closely to the river as possible."
"Why?"
"We can get fish then, if we need 'em."
No more was said, and the guide at once led the way to a thick clump of
cedars growing but a rod away from the edge of the river. The cedars
formed something of a circle, about fifteen feet in diameter, and by
clearing out some brushwood in the center they made quite a cozy resting
place. On the outside the cedars were laced together, and the snow was
banked up on all sides, leaving but one opening, two feet wide and
several feet high, for the purpose of supplying them with fresh air.
By the time the shelter was ready for use all the boys were so fagged
out they could scarcely stand. Dick and the guide had brought blankets
with them, and one of these was placed over the opening temporarily, to
keep out a large part of the wind. Then a candle was lit and John Barrow
burnt up a little brushwood, "jest to take the chill outer the place,"
as he explained. They did not dare to let the flames grow too high for
fear of setting fire to the cedars themselves.
As the boys lay on the brushwood resting, they heard the wind outside
increasing in violence, and saw the cedars bend to and fro, and listened
to them creak dismally.
"Mr. Barrow, how long do you reckon this storm will last?" questioned
Tom.
"There is no tellin', lad. Perhaps through the night, an' perhaps for a
couple o' days."
"If it lasts two days, we'll be snowed in for keeps!" came from Sam.
The guide shrugged his shoulders. "True, Sam, but we've got to take what
comes."
"Let us take account of our provisions," said Dick. "If there is any
prospect of our being snowed in we'll have to eat sparingly, or run the
risk of being starved to death."
There was not much to count up: some meat and crackers Dick and the
guide had brought along, and the meat, crackers, and the rabbit in Tom
and Sam's store. In his pockets John Barrow also carried some coffee,
sugar, and some salt.
"Not such a very small lot," was Dick's comment. "But it might be more."
A scanty evening meal was quickly disposed of, and then the candle was
blown out, and all retired to rest. The boys were soon sound asleep, and
presently the guide followed, but with his hand on his gun, ready for
any attack by man or beast, should it come.
The night passed quietly enough, for presently the wind went down. The
snow grew thicker than ever, until it covered the river to a depth of
two feet and more. Around the cedars there was a huge drift, burying
the shelter completely.
It was Dick who roused up first, to find all pitch-dark around him.
Bringing out a match, he lit the candle and looked at his watch.
"Seven o'clock!" he murmured. "Guess I'll go out and see what the
weather is."
Stretching himself, he walked to the blanket which had been placed over
the opening, and tried to thrust it aside. At once a mass of snow came
tumbling down and sifted in all directions, a good share on Tom's face.
"Hi! who's washing my face with snow?" cried Tom, as he opened his eyes
and sat up. "That's a mean trick, Dick, on a fellow who is dead tired
out."
"I didn't mean to do it, Tom. I was going outside, to see how the
weather is. I reckon the snow is pretty deep."
The talking aroused the guide and Sam, and soon all were on their feet.
The snow in the opening was pushed back and they forced their way
outside, to find themselves in a drift up to their waists.
"Gosh, but we are right in it!" was Tom's comment. "See, the river is
completely covered. That settles skating."
"And the worst of it is, it is still snowing," came from Dick.
"With no signs of letting up," finished John Barrow. "Boys, I am afraid
we are snowed in, or snowed up, just as you feel like calling it."
"Do you mean we'll have to remain here?" questioned Sam quickly.
"For the present. We are a good four miles from the pond, and we can't
tramp that in this storm."
The wind was rising again, with a dull moaning through the timber, and
sending the flakes whirling in all directions, and they were glad enough
to get back to the shelter of the cedars.
"We'll clear a space in the snow and start a fire," said the guide. "A
hot cup o' coffee will do us all good."
"And we can cook that other rabbit Tom and I brought along," put in Sam.
Brushwood was handy, and Tom helped to cut some of this with the hunting
knife he had brought along. Soon a lively blaze was warming them up, and
water was boiling for the coffee, while the rabbit was cleaned, and
broiled on a long fork in the guide's outfit. Crackers were running low,
and they had but two apiece.
"I'll try fishing as soon as I'm done," said John Barrow, and was as
good as his word.
It was no easy task to cut a hole through the ice, but once this was
accomplished the fish were found to be lively enough, despite the storm
and the cold. Inside of an hour they had a mess of nine, sufficient to
last them for several meals. And while the others were fishing, Dick
caught sight of a flock of birds, and brought down three.
"There, we won't starve yet awhile," said Dick, as he began to clean his
game.
"That's true," answered Tom, "although we may get pretty tired of birds
and fish before we get out of here and strike something different."
"I wonder how the Baxter crowd is faring," said Sam. "Unless they got
back to the cave they can't be having a very good time of it."
"They don't deserve a good time of it," grumbled Tom. "They deserve to
suffer."
"Bill Harney is a good enough guide to know what to do," put in John
Barrow. "He will pull them through somehow--that is, if he knows enough
to remain sober."
They had hoped that the storm would let up by noon, but twelve o'clock
found the snow coming down as fast as ever, blotting out the landscape
on every hand. Outside of the moaning of the wind all was as silent as a
tomb.
There was but a little for the boys to do, and after the fishing was
over they were glad enough to take it easy in the shelter and listen to
several stories John Barrow had to tell. The guide also related what he
knew concerning Goupert and the various hunts made for the missing
treasure.
"He must have been a fierce sort of a man in his day," observed Dick.
"I don't wonder the most of the folks in this region were content to
leave him alone."
It was almost nightfall when the snow stopped coming down, and then it
was too dark to attempt the journey to Bear Pond.
"We'll have to make another night of it here," said John Barrow. "Then,
if it's clear, we can start for the pond early in the morning."
"Hark!" cried Tom, rousing up. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" came from the others.
"I thought I heard somebody calling."
All listened. For a few seconds silence reigned, then came an uncertain
sound from a considerable distance.
"There it is!"
"That's somebody calling, sure," said the guide. "Must be down along the
river. I'll go out an' look."
"Can I go along?" asked Dick. "You may want help--if somebody is in
trouble."
"All right. Bring your gun with you."
In another minute they had started out, each with his gun, and with his
trouser legs tied up with bits of cord, to keep the deep snow from
reaching up to their boot-tops. Their course was directly for the river.
It was so dark they could see little or nothing, saving the whiteness
which spread in all directions.
"Hullo! hullo!" yelled John Barrow, when the river was gained.
"Help!" came back faintly. "Help!"
"Somebody over thar!" said the guide, and pointed a short distance up
the stream. "Guess he's in a peck o' trouble, too."
He started in the direction, and Dick came close behind. The party in
distress was a man, whose cries for aid were gradually becoming weaker
and weaker. Before they reached the individual his voice ceased
entirely.
"He has fainted from exhaustion," said John Barrow, as he reached the
wayfarer.
"Why, it's Jasper Grinder, our old teacher," ejaculated Dick.
The eldest Rover was right. The unfortunate man was indeed the former
teacher of Putnam Hall, but so pinched and haggard as to be scarcely
recognized. He had fallen on a bare rock, and this had cut open his left
cheek, from which the blood was flowing.