"Ef it comes t' that," exclaimed Chip in a resentful tone, "what's the matter with you goin' ahead and turnin' the trick. There ain't nobody here that knows better'n you how to keep the recordin' angel workin' double shifts."
There was a laugh at this, but when it subsided Sandy had his answer ready: "It ain't a question o' lyin' with me," he explained. "I've been in so many scrapes that only a man of extraordinary intelligence and iron nerve like myself could 'a' pulled out of, that there ain't no call for me to make up nothin'."
"That stuff sounds all right as long as you're sayin' it," said Chip skeptically; "but jest to prove it, supposin' you take the bit in your teeth an' spiel off one o' these here adventures o' yourn."
"Well, mebbe I will," replied Sandy thoughtfully, "mebbe I will." He paused reflectively a few moments while he filled and lighted his pipe. The rain still beat steadily against the roof and windows of the bunkhouse, but the wind now came only in fitful gusts.
Everybody, with the exception of the three boys, was smoking, and a blue fog drifted and eddied through the atmosphere. At last Sandy appeared to have collected his thoughts, and after a few vigorous puffs to get his pipe drawing well began his story.
"What I'm goin' to tell yuh about," he said, "happened before I became a cattle puncher. Then I was workin' in the lumber business up in the Michigan woods fer Dodd & Robertson, one o' the biggest concerns in the line. We'd had a pretty successful winter, the boys were all in good humor, an' the daily cuts averaged pretty high. But the weather was cold, mighty cold, I can tell yuh. We'd swing an axe until we had to take off our coats, and we'd be wet with sweat, but if we stopped work fer as much as a minute we had to skip back into our coats again, or our clothes would freeze on us as we stood there. Take it from me, boys, it was cold with a capital C.
"But all this ain't gettin' me any further along with my yarn. As I say, the winter was a bitter one, and the wild things, panthers an' wolves an' sech, were pretty hard put to it to rastle enough grub to keep them alive. Natchally, this made 'em plumb ferocious, and they used to come right into the clearin' around the camp, hopin', I suppose, to pick up somethin'. The cook had to watch out to keep the supply house closed up tight, or there'd 'a' been a famine in camp, sure.
"Waal, one day the foreman sent me out to look over a section of timber land some distance from the camp, an' I set off right after breakfast. I took my axe along, o' course; no lumberman ever thinks o' goin' anywhere without his axe, any more than you boys figure on travelin' around without packin' a six-gun with yuh. I took enough grub with me to last the day out, fer, as I said, it was a longish distance, an' I didn't reckon t' get back much before dark. It was the middle o' winter, an' the days up there in the woods were mighty short.
"The snow was pretty deep, but I traveled on snowshoes, an' didn't have much trouble gettin' along. I made tol'able time, an' made a rough survey o' the timber before I unpacked my grub. After eatin' I started back to camp, congratulatin' myself that I'd reach it with time an' to spare. But as some poetry sharp I once heard of says, 'Man proposes, but the Almighty disposes,' or words that mean the same thing. I'd gotten pretty well along on the return journey when suddenly I heard somethin' snap, and before I had time to even jump aside a big dead tree slams down, knockin' me over an' catchin' my left leg under it.
"Waal, I saw stars fer a few minutes, but as soon as my head cleared off a mite I tried to wriggle myself loose. But the tree couldn't seem to see it that way. It had me good an' tight, and appar'ntly meant to enjoy my company fer a spell. At first, though, I couldn't seem to understand that I was really caught hard an' fast, an' it took a little time fer the idea t' sink in. When it did filter through to me I pretty near went crazy, I guess. I remember turnin' and twistin' until my leg felt like it was goin' to break clean off, an' I almost wished it would. But after a while I pulled myself together a little, an' tried to think o' some way out. As soon as I lay still even fer a minute the cold began to gnaw through me, and I knew I'd have t' do whatever I was goin' to do mighty quick, or I'd freeze to death.