This proposition suited Hamp and Brick. They were just as eager for a change as Jerry.
Without delay, the boys started back to the storehouse. They took with them a lighted lantern, and each was provided with a snowshoe for digging purposes.
The task proved a long and weary one, but they pluckily persevered. They chiseled a passage straight down the trough of the ravine, guided along the way by well-remembered landmarks.
Shortly after seven o’clock in the evening Jerry’s snowshoe broke through the thin wall of snow, and the delighted boys tumbled out into the dusky night air. They found themselves several yards beyond the mouth of the ravine.
Far in front stretched the lake, its icy surface almost free of snow. Behind was the great drift, mounting higher and higher as it receded, until it rose many feet above the banks of the ravine. The tree that had fallen across the storehouse was utterly invisible, while of the upper tree only a few protruding limbs could be seen.
Having accomplished their purpose, and thus opened a way of retreat from the buried cabin, the boys entered the tunnel once more and crawled back. They were hungry after their toil, and immediately sat down to another hearty meal. The lamp shed a cheerful glow throughout the snug little inclosure, and the contented faces of the lads reflected its beams.
“This is what I call comfort,” declared Jerry, as he put away the provisions.
“It’s not bad,” assented Brick. “I only wish—— Hullo! what’s that? I heard a cry from, outside, fellows.”
“So did I,” exclaimed Hamp. “Listen!”
All were silent, and now the faint, far-away sound came again to their ears.