He recognized it as the branch of a pine tree. Then he twisted about and thrust his hands down toward his middle. Here he found the trunk of the tree, resting with no little weight upon his thighs.
No bones were broken, nor was he even badly bruised. But, nevertheless, he was pinned fast. He lay partly on one side, with his head turned in the direction whence the voices of his friends had come.
The canopy of branches above admitted plenty of fresh air, and there was quite an open gap in front of his face. He made a strong effort to drag himself free, but stopped as soon as he found masses of snow dropping down upon him. Then he shouted several times, and heard a faint response. The cries continued at intervals, and now they actually seemed to be coming closer.
“Brick and Jerry are tunneling this way,” said Hamp, to himself. “I wonder if they will succeed in reaching me. I didn’t tell them how I was going to dig. I only hope they won’t get in the same fix that I was in a few minutes ago.”
The chance of rescue—slim though it was—cheered him considerably, and gave him patience. He lay quite still, shouting from time to time. There were no longer any responses, but he concluded that the boys were afraid to shout for fear of a cave-in.
Twenty minutes of thrilling suspense slipped away. Then he heard a dull, muffled sound, and a moment later a mass of snow dropped upon his face. He threw out his hands and caught hold of a human arm.
“Brick! Jerry!” he shouted, with delight.
“We’re here, old boy,” replied Jerry’s familiar voice. “Are you hurt?”
“Not a bit. I’m pinned fast, though.”
“Well, we’ll soon have you out. Brick and I thought you were a goner for sure when that tree fell. The crash sounded just where your voice was.”