At last something occurred that made his heart leap for joy. The slab of bark struck a hard obstacle. Hamp tore eagerly at the snow with both hands. Yes, he had found the fireplace. One by one he lifted the charred embers of wood. Here was the half-consumed log that had ceased to burn when the storm opened. So far the tunnel was just what he had aimed to make it.
In a short time Hamp cleared the space round about him, and flattened the snow down solidly. He was tempted to push straight ahead for the storehouse, but a prudent second thought caused him to abandon the rash design. He turned to the right, and went on with the excavation. Hope made the time pass quickly, and he was surprised when he struck the flat stone. He tunneled clear over it with extreme caution. Then he veered sharply to the left and followed the triangular point of the stone, which he knew pointed straight for the storehouse.
Deeper and deeper grew the tunnel, and soon his feet were quite beyond the stone. He could barely kick it with his heels when he threw himself flat. The goal was now within six or eight feet.
Then came a sudden rumble and whirr, and Hamp felt a weight drop upon the rear part of his body. He knew what had happened, and threw himself convulsively forward. He cleared the fallen snow and then wheeled quickly around. The tunnel had disappeared. The roof had fallen in.
Hamp had no way of telling how far back the blockade extended.
“I’ll have to turn back and clear the path,” he reflected. “The cave-in surely can’t reach farther than the stone. This time I’ll make the roof stronger. I can be thankful it didn’t drop all over me.”
The cleared space around him permitted him to turn slowly on his hands and knees. He described a complete revolution, gently patting the roof overhead to make sure that it was solid.
It was a most stupid thing to do, and when the realization of his folly flashed upon his mind, Hamp felt that he would give much to be able to kick himself. In truth, he had blundered into a most perplexing situation. He had utterly lost his bearings.
For a moment the lad was simply stupid with horror. He had not the least idea in which direction lay the cabin or the storehouse, the upper or the lower side of the ravine.
He was buried under a mighty snowdrift, that might collapse and stifle him at any instant.