CHAPTER XI
SNOWBOUND
Left to themselves, Shep and Whopper started off briskly after the deer that had been seen from the top of the tree.
"We must get at least one of 'em by all means," said Shep. "It won't do to go back to the camp skunked."
"We shan't be skunked," answered Whopper, confidantly. "If there are a dozen, we'll bag the lot of them!"
The trail was by no means as easy as they had anticipated, and they had to pick their way around the rocks and through the brushwood with care. Once Whopper slid down one of the rocks and landed on his back with a thump that took the wind out of him completely.
"Cats and carrots!" he gasped. "Say, but that was a hard one, right enough!"
"Trying to split the rock?" asked Shep, helping him up.
"No, I was only testing it, to see how soft it was," growled Whopper.
Soon the two boys found themselves going up a small hill. The climb was rather discouraging, until Whopper let out a soft cry, and then motioned for silence.
"See 'em?" queried his chum, in a whisper.
"No, but there are the tracks, as plain as day!"
Whopper was right, the deer tracks were there, although partly covered by the falling snow. At the sight of them the spirits of the boy hunters arose wonderfully. They forgot how tired they were, and pushed forward at a faster gait than ever before.
"Won't we surprise them when we come back with such game!" said Shep.
"I think so, Shep. They didn't really think we'd get anything," answered Whopper.
On and on went the boys, the trail of the deer becoming plainer at every step. They did not notice how much ground they were covering nor in what direction they were moving. They had "deer fever" and had it hard.
Presently they came to the top of the rise of ground. Beyond was a patch of scrub timber, where, years before, a forest fire had wiped out the best of the trees. Looking ahead they saw four deer walking slowly along near some brushwood.
"There they are!" cried Shep, and brought his gun around for use.
At that moment the deer turned partly around and looked squarely at the boys. They were evidently taken completely by surprise and their heads went up high as they discovered the enemy. Then, without further hesitation they leaped forward, toward the dense timber ahead.
Bang! went Shep's shotgun, and crack! came the sharp report of
Whopper's rifle. Before the echoes had died away the last of the deer
leaped high in the air, made a part turn and then came down heavily.
Then it got up, ran several paces and fell again and began to kick.
"I hit him!"
"So did I!"
"Let's try for another!"
But to try for another was out of the question. With the fall of the hind one, the others reached the shelter of the dense timber and in a second more were completely out of sight, and running as only frightened deer can run when they know it is a case of life or death for them.
When the two young hunters reached the side of the fallen deer it was just breathing its last.
The bullet from the rifle had entered its side and the buckshot had struck in the neck and shoulder.
"We both brought him down," said Shep.
"Pity we didn't get the others," grumbled Whopper.
"Well, one is better than nothing."
"Oh, I know that, and I am thankful as far as that goes. Will it be worth while to go after the others, do you think?"
"No. They'll run too far before they stop."
The deer was of fair size, and looked as if it would make good eating. They inspected the game with much interest, turning it over and lifting it up.
"Pretty heavy," announced Whopper. "We'll have all we want to do to carry it to camp."
"Just what I was thinking. And say, just look how it is snowing!"
The two young hunters gazed about them and were a good deal startled.
It was growing dark and the leaden air seemed to be filled with snow.
They had paid little attention to the wind, but now realized that it
was rising steadily.
"The best thing we can do is to make for camp," said Shep. "If we don't—" He did not finish.
"You think we'll be snowbound?"
"Doesn't it look like it?"
"I must admit, it does."
Alarmed more than they cared to mention, both boys prepared to return to the Inn without delay. They selected a slender sapling and cut it down with a hunting knife Shep carried. They trimmed off the limbs, thus making of it a pole. To this they slung the deer, tied fast by the front and the hind legs. Then Whopper took the front end of the load and Shep the rear end, and thus they set off in the direction they had come.
For perhaps a quarter of a mile all went well, for, despite the falling snow, they managed to keep to the tracks they had made in following the deer. Then, of a sudden, Whopper came to a halt and Shep, of course, had to do likewise.
"What's up?" asked the latter.
"I can't see the trail anymore. The falling snow has covered it completely."
Whopper was right, as Shep realized with much alarm. Both of the young hunters gazed around in perplexity. The whirling snow hid the landscape from view. In a moment more, turning this way and that, they were completely bewildered.
"Well, I declare!" burst out Shep. "Hang me if I know where I am!"
"I think the lake is in that direction," announced Whopper, after a painful pause.
"Maybe you are right—I don't know." There seemed to be no sense in standing still, with the snow coming down thicker every minute and the wind whistling dismally all around them. On they went, for at least a quarter of a mile further. The rocks bothered them a great deal and twice both fell, dropping their load as they did so. "This is the finest pleasure stroll I ever took in my life," was Whopper's rather sarcastic comment. "Such level walking, and such nice bright sunshine, with birds singing and—Oh!" And his speech came to an end as he went down again, this time into a hollow of snow and dead leaves up to his knees.
"Are you hurt?" asked Shep.
"Not enough to weep over," was the answer. "But, no joking, this is fierce! I wish I was back to camp."
"So do I, Whopper. But wishing won't take us there—we've got to walk."
"Isn't it getting dark!"
"Yes, and just listen to that wind!"
By this time, both of the young hunters were scared, although neither mentioned it. Again they went on, but only for a dozen rods. Then both halted and stared in front of them in amazement.
"What's this?"
"We aren't going toward the lake at all!"
Before them was a slight hollow and beyond a cliff of rocks all of twenty to thirty feet high. On the top of the cliff grew a number of large trees and several of these had, in times past, been blown over, their tops resting in the hollow below while the roots still clung fast near the top of the cliff.
"Did you ever see this spot before?" asked Shep.
"Not that I can remember," answered his chum. "But I am sure it is not near the lake."
The young hunters were more alarmed than ever. They felt that they must be miles from camp. Night was now upon them, and the storm, instead of clearing away, was growing worse every minute.
"I don't think we can reach camp to-night," said Shep, as bravely as he could, although his voice trembled slightly. "We'll have to try and make ourselves as comfortable as possible elsewhere."
"What, right out here in the woods!"
"No, we can hunt for some sort of shelter, Whopper."
"Don't you think we can find the lake? If we once found that we could keep on along the shore until we struck our camp."
"I don't believe we can locate the lake in this darkness and with the snow coming down so thickly. Why, look around! You can't see at all!"
Whopper did gaze around, and had to admit that Shep was right. They were shut in by the storm, which seemed to grow wilder and wilder.
With heavy hearts the boys drew closer to the cliff, as that seemed to afford some shelter from the wind, which cut like a knife. In the darkness they stumbled into the hollow and then between two of the fallen trees.
"Well, if we have got to seek shelter, this place may prove as good as any," observed Whopper. "It's warmer under the rocks, and we can use some of these tree branches for a fire."
"Yes, we must have a fire," answered the doctor's son, who did not relish the darkness. He wondered what they would be able to do should wolves attack them, but did not mention this to his companion.
Dropping their load in the snow, they felt their way between the trees, and then broke off some of the small branches for firewood. They got the driest they could find.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" came suddenly from Whopper.
"What's up?"
"I haven't a single match! Have you any?"
In haste Shep felt in his pocket. There were two matches there, but one felt as if it was no good.
"I've got two, but one feels as if the top was off," he announced.
"For gracious sake, don't let the good one go out, Shep! Here, I've got an old letter in my pocket. Light that first."
The doctor's son felt in his other pockets and brought forth part of an old railroad timetable. The papers were bunched together and held low, while Shep tried to strike the match that had lost part of its head. It made a faint streak of light, but that was all.
"Is that the good one?" asked Whopper, hoarsely. Never before had he been so anxious about a light.
"No. I'll try the good one now," answered the doctor's son.
"Don't let the wind blow it out," pleaded his chum. "Here, use my cap."
The papers were placed beside the cap, and Shep struck the match several times. Both of the boys hardly dared to breathe. Then came a flash, and a tiny flame sprang up, and the papers were set to blazing. They put on the smallest and driest of the twigs and then the small branches, and both tended the fire with as much care as an infant receives from its nurse. Soon it became stronger and stronger, and they breathed a deep sigh of relief and put on some big pieces of wood.
As Snap had said at camp, the fire brightened things up wonderfully and both boys felt lighter-hearted as the ruddy glare lit up the scene. They found something of a circular hollow under the cliff with a big fallen tree just beyond it. They brought the fire to one side of this hollow, and banked up the snow on the other side, and soon the shelter began to grow warm. Then they brought in the deer and hung the game in a fork of the fallen tree.
"Lucky we brought that lunch along," said Shep. "I am as hungry as a bear."
"So am I," returned Whopper, "and I don't think that little lunch is going to satisfy me. What's the matter with broiling a venison streak?"
"Do you want to cut up the deer before we get back to camp?"
"Most likely we'll have to. If this snow keeps on there is no telling how long we'll be snowbound."
"That is true, too. Well, we needn't cut up the whole deer—only cut out what we want to use."