They had brought along a pick and a crowbar, and now all set to work to clear away the snow, and then the dirt from around the pointed rock. The ground was hard, and at first they made but slow progress.
"Perhaps we'll have to build a fire, to thaw out the ground," suggested John Barrow.
"Oh, that will take too long," said Tom. "I wonder if we can't turn the rock over?"
With the crowbar and the pick wedged against the flat rock they pushed upon the pointed rock with all the force at their command. Several times the tools slipped, but at last they held, and slowly the pointed rock went up, until with a thud it rolled over and several feet away.
"Hurrah, a hole full of small stones!" cried Dick, and leaped down to pick the stones out. Tom followed, and so did the guide.
"Dick! Tom! Hullo! hullo!" came the unexpected cry from a short distance away.
"Who is that calling?" demanded Dick.
"It's Sam," replied the guide, looking up. "He's coming here as fast as he can track it."
"Then something is wrong," said Dick, and for the moment the treasure was forgotten.
It did not take Sam long to reach them. He was so out of breath that for several minutes he was unable to talk connectedly. At last he gasped out: