They all stopped and listened. Above the blowing of the wind and the swishing of the fast-falling snowflakes, a faint and far-off voice could be heard.
“Help! Help!” it called.
“There they are!” shouted one of the lumbermen.
“That doesn’t sound like either Bert or Nan,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “But it may be someone who started to bring them back to camp and he, too, became lost.”
They all listened again, and once more came the call, but still faint and far away.
“Help! Help!”
“It’s over here!” cried Jim Denton. “Over to the right!”
Through the storm and darkness the rescue party hurried, sending out calls to tell that they were on the way. Now and again they heard the cry in answer, and it sounded nearer now.
At last Mr. Bobbsey saw a dark figure huddled in a heap near a pile of snow, which had drifted around a large rock.
“Here’s someone!” cried Mr. Bobbsey.