“They were climbing Mont Blanc when a snowslide swept them away into a deep crevasse. One man escaped to tell the story. It was impossible to reach any of them, so the scientists figured out how long a time must elapse before the glacier would move down to give up its victims. Computations had it that forty years must pass by and then the ice would reach a place where the bodies of the men would be recovered. Forty-one years afterwards, far down the slope of that same mountain, the frozen forms of seven men were found and removed.”
“Well, Gilly, rest assured that not one scout will be found frozen that way, this year or forty years hence!” promised Julie, emphatically.
“Not if we can help it!” seconded the girls.
“See that you remember this vow, when you feel like a little adventuring over a peak,” laughed Mr. Gilroy.
A few days after this talk, the scouts begged the guides to take them on a hunting-trip,—not that they ever shot anything, but they liked to explore the forests and watch the animals browse or run away.
So they hiked up the steep ascent of the mountain that rose many thousands of feet above the camp, and after startling several hares and other tiny creatures, they came upon a fox, dining upon a wild rabbit. But he leaped away almost before they had seen him, his great red brush disappearing between the trees.
“Wasn’t he splendid!” exclaimed Betty.
“Um! Not scout scare him away—something comin’ dis way,” returned Tally, peering eagerly into the dimness.
“Tally!” hissed Omney suddenly, “Grizzly!” At the same time the scouts distinctly heard a crashing through the dry branches of the down-timber.
“Clim tree—quick—in any one near!” warned Tally, while he cocked his rifle to protect the scouts.