When we returned to the mouth all of our little party were assembled in the cellar, each man—and the women as well—carrying a pair of snowshoes. Flora and Mrs. Menzies were protected against the bitter weather by furred cloaks. Of the five wounded men one had died within the hour; the other four were able to hobble along temporarily with some assistance. For transporting these when we were safely away from the fort we had two sledges, not counting the one laden with food supplies.
As yet the redskins did not suspect that they were in danger of being cheated of their triumph; we could hear their frenzied cries faintly. Overhead the flames were roaring and hissing, and the cellar itself was hazy with pungent smoke.
CHAPTER XXX.
A STRANGE DISCOVERY.
“All ready?” exclaimed Menzies. “Then forward. If no mishap occurs we shall be miles away before our escape is discovered.”
He entered the passage first, flashing the lantern in front of him, and the others followed in double file. Captain Rudstone and I, who came last, took the precaution to replace the slab of stone as we had found it.
It was a strange experience to thread that underground corridor, built with herculean toil, when the fort was reared, for just such an emergency as it was serving now. We had to stoop low to avoid the raftered roof. The air was close, and not a sound reached us from outside. We groped along in semi-darkness for the lantern cast no light behind. It gave one a ghastly oppressive feeling of being buried alive.
The tunnel seemed longer than it really was. We were certain over and over again that we had passed under the fort yard and the outer clearing, yet still we went on. But at last Menzies stopped, and called in a low voice that he had come to the end. Captain Rudstone and I made our way up to him, and saw that further progress was barred by a slab of rock that fitted exactly across the passage.