DECOYED TO DANGER.
The first thing was breakfast. Prudence was no match for ravenous hunger, and the boys greedily devoured the last scrap of food. They even searched the pine boughs for fallen crumbs.
“It don’t seem as though I had eaten anything at all,” said Brick, mournfully.
“Well, it won’t be long till we get a good, square meal,” said Jerry. “The snow must be packed pretty hard by this time, so the tunnel won’t take so long to dig.”
“And there won’t be much danger of caving in,” added Hamp.
The boys sat talking for a while before they began the great undertaking. Their very lives depended on reaching the storehouse.
“I hope we can get out of this,” replied Brick. “I’m sick of this part of the country. I’ve been wondering what became of those two men.”
“They’re either dead, or snowed up so badly that they can’t help themselves,” declared Hamp. “It’s our duty to go to their assistance as soon as we get a chance. That fellow, Raikes, put himself in danger to help us, you know.”
It was shortly after midday when the three entered the tunnel in single file. Jerry took the lead, and the others followed close at his heels.
The snow was rather sticky and compact, and they, took advantage of this to enlarge the top and sides of the passage as they went along. Not a single cave-in was found. They easily made the two turns, and reached the scene of Hamp’s disaster on the previous day.
Here the actual work began, for, though the storehouse was close ahead, the fallen tree effectually barred the way. The boys turned sharply to the left, and tunneled cautiously along for ten or twelve feet through the pitch blackness.
Then they struck the bank of the ravine, and followed it down for two yards.
“We must have passed under the trunk of the tree by this time,” said Jerry. “Now comes a straight course for the storehouse. And it’s got to be straight, for if we dig only a foot or two to right or left, we’ll strike either the tree or the other side of the ravine.”
“Go ahead,” replied Hamp. “We’ll make it, old fellow.”
Already more than an hour had passed since they left the cabin. They advanced with redoubled caution, working two abreast, and patting the roof and sides of the tunnel to make them secure.
The long and trying ordeal came to an end at last, and glorious was the reward. The slab of bark, with which Jerry was digging, suddenly struck something hard. It proved to be a rock, and the boys cleared the space around it with frantic haste.
A moment later they fairly tumbled into the triangular cavity between the two great boulders. It was indeed the storehouse.
With greedy hands they tore away the sled and clutched at the precious supplies lying underneath. The fear of bringing an avalanche down on their heads was all that kept them from bursting into hearty cheers.
“We are saved,” cried Hamp, as he got hold of the tin box of matches and struck a light.
“Stay right here,” said Jerry. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
He snatched a handful of matches, and crawled into the tunnel, striking light after light as he went along. He was quickly out of sight, but in less than five minutes he returned with a flaming lantern.
The next step was to enlarge the space in front of the rocks, and when this was accomplished, the sled was dragged out of the cavity, and the supplies—snowshoes and all—were securely strapped upon it.
Then the return trip was begun. Jerry crawled ahead with the lantern, and Hamp and Brick came after him with the sled. Each angle was safely rounded, and it was a happy moment when the boys entered the cabin.
The first thing they did was to eat a hearty meal, and no banquet could have tasted better than the dry, uncooked food.
“What time is it?” asked Jerry.
“Just four o’clock,” replied Brick, looking-at his watch.
“Then I’ll tell you what we had better do,” resumed Jerry. “If a thaw and rain should come—and it feels pretty close now—the cabin would almost certainly be flooded. Suppose we go back to the storehouse and dig another tunnel clear out to the lake. I’ll bet anything the wind blew the ice clear of snow. Then, if we reach the open air, we can start away from here to-morrow morning and hunt another camp. First, we’ll look up those prospectors.”
This proposition suited Hamp and Brick. They were just as eager for a change as Jerry.
Without delay, the boys started back to the storehouse. They took with them a lighted lantern, and each was provided with a snowshoe for digging purposes.
The task proved a long and weary one, but they pluckily persevered. They chiseled a passage straight down the trough of the ravine, guided along the way by well-remembered landmarks.
Shortly after seven o’clock in the evening Jerry’s snowshoe broke through the thin wall of snow, and the delighted boys tumbled out into the dusky night air. They found themselves several yards beyond the mouth of the ravine.
Far in front stretched the lake, its icy surface almost free of snow. Behind was the great drift, mounting higher and higher as it receded, until it rose many feet above the banks of the ravine. The tree that had fallen across the storehouse was utterly invisible, while of the upper tree only a few protruding limbs could be seen.
Having accomplished their purpose, and thus opened a way of retreat from the buried cabin, the boys entered the tunnel once more and crawled back. They were hungry after their toil, and immediately sat down to another hearty meal. The lamp shed a cheerful glow throughout the snug little inclosure, and the contented faces of the lads reflected its beams.
“This is what I call comfort,” declared Jerry, as he put away the provisions.
“It’s not bad,” assented Brick. “I only wish—— Hullo! what’s that? I heard a cry from, outside, fellows.”
“So did I,” exclaimed Hamp. “Listen!”
All were silent, and now the faint, far-away sound came again to their ears.
It seemed to be the voice of some one in distress.
Again it rang faintly on the night air.
“Those men!” exclaimed Jerry.
“I’ll bet anything they are out on the lake looking for us. They can’t see the tunnel in the dark.”
“Mebbe they are half-starved and need help more than we do,” suggested Hamp. “We’ve got to go out and see, fellows.”
“That’s right,” cried Jerry. “Come on.”
He snatched the lantern and dived into the tunnel, followed by his companions. They had not the slightest doubt that Raikes and Bogle were outside.
In their confidence and hurry, they committed the grave error of leaving their rifles behind. It never occurred to them that the strange cries might have another and totally different origin.
So, with empty hands, the lads crawled hastily forward on hands and knees down the long, straight passage that led to the open lake.
Suddenly a sharp, blood-curdling cry vibrated on the pent-in air, and that instant a long, tawny beast, with glaring eyeballs, took shape in the gloom, just beyond the lantern’s flashing rays.