CHAPTER IX.

THE GREAT STORM.

Mr. Raikes proved to be a very affable and genial sort of a man. He

chatted with the boys for some time, and asked them a great deal about

their plans.

Not once, however, did he refer to the business that had brought himself

and Mr. Bogle into the wilderness.

"Isn't this a queer time of the year to go prospecting?" inquired Jerry,

during a lapse in the conversation. "I thought summer was the right

season."

Mr. Raikes' blue eyes expressed mild surprise, as he turned to the

speaker.

"This is just the time for our line of business," he replied; and if he

ever spoke the truth in his life, he spoke it then.

"We'll make out all right if the weather holds good," he added, hastily.

"I'm a little afraid there's a snow squall coming, though. The air just

feels like it. It's not nearly so cold as when I started."

"That's so," exclaimed Hamp. "I can feel it getting warmer."

"You'd think it was downright hot if you were in my place," declared

Jerry. "I'm actually sweating."

"That's the best thing for you," said Mr. Raikes, "only don't take cold

after it. Well, I must be off. You boys want to sleep, and I suppose

Joe is getting anxious about me. Of course, we will see each other

again, since we are such near neighbors?"

Without waiting for a reply, Mr. Raikes shouldered his gun and strode

down the ravine. The boys shouted good-by after him, and watched until

he disappeared in the gloom.

"Not a bad sort of a fellow," commented Brick.

"He has mighty restless eyes," said Hamp. "When they weren't looking at

you, they were searching around the camp."

"I noticed that he watched Brick pretty sharply," put in Jerry. "He was

a mighty talkative fellow. Come to think of it, he found out everything

about us, and didn't tell us a scrap about himself."

Here the discussion of the departed Mr. Raikes ended, for the boys were

too sleepy to think of anything else. Brick looked at his watch, and

uttered a gasp of surprise.

"Half-past three o'clock. It will soon be morning."

"The roof of the cabin must be fixed before we go to bed," cried Jerry.

"It may snow at any time. You fellows will have to manage it, for I

won't dare stir about till I get over this sweat."

Brick and Hamp undertook the contract, and, by following Jerry's

instructions, they completed the work in a very few minutes. Then they

dragged a big log down the ravine and put it on the fire.

The light faded, and dawn came. It was a dreary sort of a dawn, at best,

for the weather had changed in a truly terrific manner. At midday the

tired boys were still slumbering, blissfully ignorant of the warring

elements outside. The afternoon advanced, and it was well toward evening

when Brick yawned, stretched himself, and sat up. He looked at his

watch.

"Great Scott!" he ejaculated. "After four o'clock! What a sleep we've

had!"

Then he noticed a sprinkling of snow on the pine boughs, and saw quite a

layer of it in the front corners of the cabin. A loud humming noise was

ringing in his ears, and mingled with it was a deep, sonorous roar.

Brick threw off the blanket and crawled to the door. He pulled the sled

away and partly lifted the flap of canvas. When he saw a solid wall of

snow staring him in the face, he uttered a shout that instantly woke his

companions.

"Look out, or we'll have a cave-in!" cried Jerry, as he pushed the sled

back in place. "Whew! what a storm this is! Just hear the wind roaring!"

"How are we going to see out?" asked Hamp.

For answer, Jerry took an ax and chopped a small, oblong hole in the

front wall of the cabin, at the height of five feet from the ground. The

boys crowded in front of it and looked out.

To say that they were astonished and alarmed, would but feebly express

their feelings. The snow was level with the hole, and lay to the depth

of five feet all through the ravine. The air was white with swirling

flakes, and the lofty trees to right and left were creaking and groaning

in the teeth of a tremendous gale.

Fortunately the storm was blowing from the northeast, and thus the cabin

was effectively screened by the upper bank of the ravine. Had it been

exposed, even partially, to the gale, it would have been demolished long

ago.

Jerry stuffed an old coat into the hole to shut out the bitterly cold

air that filtered through.

"This is a pretty ugly fix," he said, gravely. "I hope the storm won't

keep up."

"We're snug enough in here, at any rate," replied Hamp.

"And we can stand a long siege," added Brick, who was disposed to be

cheerful. To him, a snowstorm suggested only the pleasing excitement of

winter sports.

"We are all right as long as the wind don't change," responded Jerry,

"but if it does--then good-by to the cabin. The snow itself is not as

deep as it looks. The wind blowing over the bank makes a sort of an eddy

behind it, and all this snow in the ravine has drifted. It will keep on

drifting, too--higher and higher."

"We'll find a way to pull through," said Hamp, confidently. "I don't

believe the wind is going to change."

"It may sheer to the east," suggested Brick.

"That is just what I am afraid of," replied Jerry. "But we won't borrow

trouble before it comes. We have enough on our hands now."

He pointed to the roof, which was sagging down considerably in the

middle. There was evidently a heavy weight of snow on top.

"No way to remedy that," he added. "We can't get up there in such a deep

snow. Let's make the best of it, fellows. I'm thankful that I feel well

after my cold bath last night."

"If anything happens, those men may help us," suggested Hamp.

"Not likely," replied Jerry. "I'll bet anything they're worse off than

we are. Probably they've got nothing to shelter them but a couple of

rocks or a flimsy lean-to."

"Then I pity them," declared Brick. "But let's have something to eat,

fellows. I'm ravenous."

His companions were equally hungry. All sat down on the straw, and for

half a minute no one spoke or moved. An expression that was half

serious, half comical, stole over each face.

Then Hamp opened a tin box and took out several dozen biscuit. He

unrolled a napkin and disclosed about half a pound of chipped beef. He

spread these things significantly in front of his companions. The act

was enough to tell the tale.

"I thought so," exclaimed Brick, dismally. "We'll starve, sure. What

fools we were to leave everything in the storehouse."

"What confounded fools," echoed Hamp. "But we couldn't have known what

was going to happen."

The storehouse, it must be explained, was a triangular hollow between

two rocks that stood in the center of the ravine, half-a-dozen yards

below the cabin.

Here, snugly covered with one of the sleds, rested most of the

provisions--tinned biscuit and meats, potatoes, flour, lard, coffee,

pork, and various other articles.

This place had been selected because there was not sufficient room in

the cabin.

"We can't keep alive long on this handful of crackers and beef,"

declared Jerry. "We've got to get at the supplies somehow or other.

Light the lantern till we look about us. Where are the matches?"

"In the storehouse," muttered Brick. "The sealed bottle, I mean. But we

had a box here last night. I saw it lying in that corner."

Alas! the corner was heaped up with snow, and when Brick dug out the

box, it was a sight to be seen. It had been left partly open, and the

heads of the matches were one sticky mass.

"Look in your pockets," Jerry fairly shrieked.

Every pocket was quickly searched, but to no purpose. Not a match could

be found.

"No light, and hardly any food," muttered Jerry, glaring at the two

useless lanterns. "Now we must get to the storehouse. There are no two

ways about it. I suppose the snowshoes are with the other traps."

"Yes," said Hamp, dismally.

"If we had them here, we would be all right."

"Can't we dig a tunnel?" suggested Brick.

"That's just what I'm thinking about," replied Jerry. "It might be done,

though it will take a long time. The snow is so light that I am afraid a

tunnel will cave in."

"Let me try it, anyhow," said Brick. "You'll catch cold if you get into

the snow, Jerry."

"I'll attend to the tunneling," asserted Hamp. "I'm used to that sort of

thing. Do you remember our snow forts, Jerry?"

Jerry nodded.

"Do your best, old fellow. Everything depends on it. Let's all have a

bite to eat first."

As he spoke, a sharp, snapping noise was heard above the roar of the

storm. A terrific crash followed. The cabin quivered and reeled, and

black darkness shut out the pale gray twilight.

The Camp in the Snow; Or, Besieged by Danger · 第 9 / 36 章