UNDER THE SNOWDRIFT.
Hamp knew that his only hope lay in a clear head and a courageous heart.
Already the air seemed to be more dense, and he felt a difficulty in
breathing.
"One thing certain," he reflected, "I've got about a ghost of a chance
of striking either the cabin or the storehouse. If I try to tunnel away
from here, there's no telling where I may land. I've got two
chances--either to stay here until Brick and Jerry come to rescue me, or
to get my bearings by hearing them shout."
The latter commended itself most favorably to Hamp. In spite of the risk
of an avalanche, he put his hands to his lips and uttered a piercing
yell.
No reply.
He waited, and tried again.
Now, to his delight, he heard a faint cry. He was not quick enough to
locate it, so he shouted once more.
A moment later the answering hail came, but, alas! he could not make
sure in what direction.
An agony of despair seized him, and he uttered cry after cry.
Fatal mistake! The loud noise loosened the quivering masses of snow.
Hamp felt the walls shake and heard the rustling glide. Throwing out his
arms, he fought his way upward through the descending avalanche. Though
twice beaten back, he gained an upright position. Had the snow been less
light and powdery, he must have been crushed to the ground.
He was now firmly on his feet, but in danger of suffocation. His head
was covered. The snow pressed against his mouth and nose. He gasped for
breath. He clutched and tore at the weight above him, swinging his arms
from side to side. Then the powdery masses slipped to right and left,
disclosing a funnel-shaped aperture, through which filtered a current of
cold air. Hamp uttered a cry of relief and made the opening larger. The
top of the drift was about two feet above his head. He saw the circular
patch of murky gray sky through the driving storm. He felt the icy
flakes dropping upon his cheeks, and heard the hoarse, deafening hum of
the wind. The youth was in no present danger, but otherwise his position
was not improved. He could not force a way onward through the drift, nor
could he get his head high enough to see where he was.
"It's no go," he muttered. "I'm stuck here like a pig in a poke. Unless
I keep mighty still, I'll have another avalanche from the surface."
Just then he heard two lusty shouts, and the voices seemed to come from
straight in front of him.
"Hurrah!" he yelled. "Brick! Jerry!"
The response quickly floated back, and at the same instant the wind
drove a stinging shower of fine snow into his face.
Hamp wiped the snow off, and was about to utter another shout when he
heard a shrill crackling above the din of the storm. As he stared
upward he saw the disk of open air suddenly eclipsed by a sheet of
blackness. More from instinct than logic, Hamp divined what this meant.
Quick as a flash he dived downward with arms and head, and sought to
burrow under the drift.
He was none too quick. He heard a dull crash, and felt himself seized by
some mighty force and driven roughly against the very ground. There was
a considerable weight of loose snow upon him, and when he had beaten it
away from his face, his outstretched hands caught hold of something that
was solid, but prickly and yielding.
He recognized it as the branch of a pine tree. Then he twisted about and
thrust his hands down toward his middle. Here he found the trunk of the
tree, resting with no little weight upon his thighs.
No bones were broken, nor was he even badly bruised. But, nevertheless,
he was pinned fast. He lay partly on one side, with his head turned in
the direction whence the voices of his friends had come.
The canopy of branches above admitted plenty of fresh air, and there was
quite an open gap in front of his face. He made a strong effort to drag
himself free, but stopped as soon as he found masses of snow dropping
down upon him. Then he shouted several times, and heard a faint
response. The cries continued at intervals, and now they actually seemed
to be coming closer.
"Brick and Jerry are tunneling this way," said Hamp, to himself. "I
wonder if they will succeed in reaching me. I didn't tell them how I was
going to dig. I only hope they won't get in the same fix that I was in
a few minutes ago."
The chance of rescue--slim though it was--cheered him considerably, and
gave him patience. He lay quite still, shouting from time to time. There
were no longer any responses, but he concluded that the boys were afraid
to shout for fear of a cave-in.
Twenty minutes of thrilling suspense slipped away. Then he heard a dull,
muffled sound, and a moment later a mass of snow dropped upon his face.
He threw out his hands and caught hold of a human arm.
"Brick! Jerry!" he shouted, with delight.
"We're here, old boy," replied Jerry's familiar voice. "Are you hurt?"
"Not a bit. I'm pinned fast, though."
"Well, we'll soon have you out. Brick and I thought you were a goner for
sure when that tree fell. The crash sounded just where your voice was."
"It was a close call," replied Hamp. "But how did you get here so
soon."
"Why, by your tunnel," said Jerry. "It was open a foot beyond that
stone. We dug mighty carefully the rest of the way. That's what kept us
so long."
"And now how are we going to get you free?" added Brick.
"I'll tell you," replied Hamp. "In the first place, make the passage
wide enough for both of you to kneel side by side."
"It's wide enough now," declared Jerry. "We came through in double
file."
"Then take hold of my hands and pull."
The boys followed instructions, and by a long, steady haul they drew
Hamp from under the trunk of the tree.
"There, that will do," he cried, as he sat up. "Thank goodness, I can
kick as spry as ever. My trousers are torn, but I don't believe I have a
scratch. I wouldn't go through this over again for a fortune."
He briefly told the boys his thrilling story, and it made them feel
rather shivery.
"We had better go back while the way is open," said Brick. "It will be
good-by if we are caught by a cave-in."
"I hate to give up," muttered Hamp, doggedly. "I Started for the
storehouse, and I want to reach it."
"But that tree is right in the road now," declared Jerry. "The
storehouse is on the other side of it. We can't get through, and it will
be a risky thing to try to tunnel around it."
Hamp was not satisfied until he had crawled forward several feet. Then a
perfect network of interlacing branches drove him reluctantly back.
"I thought so," said Jerry. "There is only one thing to do, fellows. We
must return to the cabin and wait until morning. By then the storm may
be over. At any rate, the snow will be more solid and compact, and won't
cave in so easily. We will be able to make a tunnel clear around the
tree, and get at the storehouse from the lower side."
This was sound logic, and as no one could suggest a better plan, the
boys started despondently back through the tunnel, crawling in single
file.
They reached the end without mishap, and were heartily glad to find
themselves in the snug shelter of the cabin once more.
Brick looked at his watch and wound it up. It was just half-past eight
o'clock in the evening. Of course, the boys were not sleepy, and it
looked as though they would have to turn night into day. They were
savagely hungry, and longingly eyed the cartridge box that held the
scanty remnants of their supper. But they put the temptation aside with
stern fortitude, knowing that greater need would come with the morning.
All hands prudently exchanged their damp clothes for dry ones, and then
huddled together under blankets in a corner of the cabin.
It was four o'clock when the boys finally dropped off to sleep, overcome
more by mental than physical exhaustion. They rested soundly, and awoke
to find that another day had dawned--dawned hours before, for Brick's
watch indicated eleven o'clock. The hands could be barely seen by the
meager gray light that filtered through a crevice in the roof.
The storm was over--the wind, part of it, at least. The silence was
oppressive. Evidently the drifted snow was piled many feet above the
cabin. What scanty light penetrated to the boys filtered through the
outspreading branches of the fallen pine.