CHAPTER XXII
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.