"Run for your lives, men," shouted Ranworth. "There's an avalanche upon you."
With a rush and roar thousands of tons of ice, snow, and rock swept over the edge of the cliff and crashed into the valley beneath. Almost by a miracle Ranworth and his companions escaped being buried by the irresistible fall of debris. When the powdered dust from the broken ice had subsided, neither the mammoth nor its severed tusk was visible. Both lay buried under thirty feet of snow and rubble.
CHAPTER XIX
THE LOST "BIRD OF FREEDOM"
"'So much for Buckingham!'" ejaculated Ranworth, as he viewed the scene of desolation. "Never mind, Let's get back to the sleigh. It might have been a jolly sight worse."
As the disappointed men retraced their steps, the snow began to fall heavily. The expected blizzard was upon them.
Suddenly a terrible uproar came from the Bird of Freedom. Voices could be heard shouting discordantly, while above the crash of woodwork rang out the sharp crack of a pistol.
Without a moment's hesitation, Ranworth broke into a run, Guy and the seamen following his example; but, by the time they reached the sleigh, the uproar had entirely subsided.
"What's the matter, Leslie?" demanded Ranworth.