The Rover Boys in Alaska: or, Lost in the Fields of Ice

"To meet us!" exclaimed Dick. "Which way did he go?"

"Same way you came."

"But we didn't meet him," cried Sam and Dick, in a breath.

"I dunno nuthin' about that, stranger. When my partner heard you a-callin' an' heard that queer whistle you gave he got all excited, an' said he must see who it was. I told him he'd better wait till you came along, but he wouldn't do it – said he couldn't – that he had remembered somethin' an' he was afraid he was goin' to forgit it ag'in."

"Poor Tom! That whistle must have made him remember who he was!" said Sam. He turned to his brother. "Where can he be now? Oh, Dick, do you remember that strange noise – "

"Yes! yes! If he had a tumble – " Dick could not finish.

"We'd better search into this," came promptly from Jack Wumble. He held out the pipe he had picked up. "Is this yours?" he asked, of the other man.

"It sure is!" cried Ike Furner, his eyes lighting up with pleasure. "I thought sure she was gone fer good. I suppose ye found her on the trail."

"I did."

"Thanks," and the other miner put the precious pipe in his pocket. Then he gazed curiously at the crowd before him. "I don't understand this nohow," he muttered. "That feller who was with me was all right till you called an' whistled, then he acted plumb locoed."

"He is our brother," explained Dick, "and he is a bit out of his mind. But we can't waste time explaining just now. We must hunt him up before this storm gets any worse."

"That's the talk," said Sam.

"I don't see why he didn't meet you."

"We are afraid he had a tumble," answered Dick, and told about the strange swishing and crashing they had heard.

"By gum! Maybe he went down into thet split in the rocks!" cried Ike Furner. "I yelled to him to be careful o' thet openin'. But he was in sech a hurry – " The miner did not finish.

"I'll get a fresh torch and we'll go back," said Jack Wumble. His face wore a sober look. "A tumble down thet openin' would be putty bad," he added.

"Want me to go along?" asked Ike Furner.

"You can go if you want to," answered Dick. "But fix your traps so that no wild animals can get at the food."

"Oh, the grub is safe enough. I'll keep a good fire burnin'," answered the prospector. They could readily see that he was a peculiar man, but with a kindly heart. Family troubles had caused him to try his fortunes in this out of the way portion of the globe.

It did not take long for them to build up the campfire and get an extra torch. This done, all set off in the direction of the split in the rocks, Jack Wumble leading the way and the others coming in a bunch behind him.

The Rover boys knew not what to say or what to think. Had Tom tumbled into that awful opening, and if so, was he alive or dead?

"If he went down there I don't see how he could escape," whispered Sam to his brother. "Why, when I crossed on that tree I couldn't see the bottom!"

"Let us hope he didn't take that tumble," was the low reply.

CHAPTER XXIII

A SLIDE DOWN THE MOUNTAIN SIDE

"My gracious, Dick! It sure is snowing some now!"

"Yes, and it is getting colder every minute."

"If we don't get out of the mountains putty quick we'll be snowed in," came from Jack Wumble.

"Did you calkerlate to git back to Dawson afore winter sot in?" inquired Ike Furner, curiously.

"Why of course!" cried Sam.

"I don't see how you are goin' to make it."

"Oh, we must get back," said Dick. "If only we could find Tom," he added, with a sigh.

It was fully an hour after they had left the campfire at the entrance to the cave of the mountain. They had walked to the chasm where they thought Tom might have had a tumble and crossed and recrossed it several times. But they had found no traces of the missing Rover boy.

"If only we knew whether he went down in that opening!" said Sam, for at least the tenth time. "Dick, do you suppose we can climb down into it?"

"Not without a rope, Sam. The sides are too steep and slippery."

Time and again they called down. But no answer came back. If Tom was down there he was either unconscious or dead.

And now it had begun to snow harder than ever. The air was so full of the white flakes that they could not see ten feet in any direction. It was a typical Alaskan snowstorm. There was a sweep to the wind that found the very marrow of their bones.

What to do next the Rovers did not know, nor could the two miners suggest anything. Finally, however, Ike Furner mentioned something that set the youths to thinking.

"See here!" he cried. "The old tree is gone!"

"What tree?" asked all three of the others.

"Why, the big hemlock as was hangin' over the cliff. She was a whopper, I kin tell you – biggest tree in these parts."

"Where was that tree?" asked Dick.

"Right here, whar you see the holes. The snow has covered the spot putty well, but I know the tree was here when we come up."

"It must have been that tree we heard sliding down the mountain side," exclaimed Dick. "Maybe Tom didn't go down into the chasm at all, but slid down the mountain on the tree!"

"That's so!" put in Sam, eagerly. "And he may not be hurt!"

"Well, a slide like thet wouldn't be anything to sneeze at," remarked Jack Wumble. "Especially if the tree took to rollin' over an' over!"

"I'm goin' to investigate," said Dick, and commenced to crawl out on the edge of the cliff.

"You be careful!" roared Wumble. "It's slippery an' dangerous out there!"

"Let us join hands," suggested Sam, and this was done, all forming a chain, to keep Dick from going over the edge of the cliff. He took the torch in one hand, that he might light the way in the darkness and the flying snow.

At last Dick found himself on the very edge of the cliff at the point where the giant tree had stood. To his surprise the cliff was not perpendicular there, but formed a slope leading to another ridge some fifty feet below. What was beneath this was hidden from view by the falling snow.

"I think I can crawl down there," he said to the others. "Anyway, I am going to try it."

"Wait! I've got a lariat in my pack," said Ike Furner. "I'll git that. It will be better'n nuthin'." And off he sped for the article mentioned.

When he came back Dick tied one end of the lariat around his waist, and while the others held fast he crawled down the slope. He had to keep on his hands and knees, and once he slipped a distance of several yards, the others stopping him with a jerk.

"Be careful – the lariat might snap!" sang out Sam.

"It's better walking down here," answered Dick. "I think – "

He did not finish, for just then his body swung down into a hollow, filled with snow and with some dripping water that had commenced to freeze. There was a snap, and the end of the lariat came back in the faces of those above.

"There he goes!" yelled Jack Wumble, and pointed down to where the torch could be seen whirling around and around. Soon it was hidden from view by the snow.

"Dick! Dick!" yelled Sam. "Are you safe?"

A yell came back, but what was said those above could not make out. Sam's face went white, and he looked inquiringly at Jack Wumble.

"Where do you suppose he went to?" asked Ike Furner.

Wumble shook his head.

"Don't know, unless he slid clar down to the valley," he returned. "This is certainly the wust yet."

"I'm going down after him," said Sam, bravely.

"Be careful, lad, it may cost ye your life."

"I don't care – I'm going to find Dick – and Tom, too."

The youngest Rover was just worked up enough to be reckless. And when Sam got that way nothing could hold him back.

"I'm going back, to get something to eat for all hands – in case we need it," he said. "Then I'll crawl down somehow and learn the truth. If Tom and Dick are all right, I'll fire one shot from my pistol. Then you'll know we are coming up as soon as possible. If I fire two shots you'll know we are all right, but we can't come up right away. If I fire three shots you'll know I need help. In that case come down, packs and all, and we'll find some kind of a camping spot below."

So it was settled, and having gone back to where the traps had been left, the youngest Rover made up a small bundle for himself, and also procured another torch. The others accompanied him to where Dick had disappeared.

"I hate to see ye leavin' me," said Jack Wumble, with feeling. "Maybe it would be better to wait till mornin', when it was lighter."

"No, Jack, I can't wait – and have Dick down there, and Tom, too. For all we know, both of them may be dying!"

That was all Sam said, and to this the old miner could not reply. Ike Furner looked on, but did not open his mouth. He was waiting to hear the full particulars concerning the young man he had known as Brill Thomas.

Down and down went Sam, the snow soon hiding the two miners from his view. He had to proceed with care, fearing a tumble such as his big brother had taken. Where there was water, ice was forming on the rocks, making the descent more dangerous than ever.

"I don't know how a fellow is to get back that way," he said to himself. "Guess we'll have to walk around by the trail."

It was now intensely cold and the wind was blowing almost a gale. He was glad when he reached something of a hollow, where he could crouch down and regain his breath.

"Dick! Dick!" he cried, many times, but no answer came back. Either his brother was too far away to hear him or was too badly hurt to make reply.

Down and down climbed Sam until he felt he must be approaching the foot of the mountain. He had his torch still in hand, having often carried it in his teeth while holding fast. In some spots the snow was now over a foot deep, and his footing was, consequently, more uncertain than ever.

Suddenly he found himself on the edge of a small cliff, the last on the mountain side. Without knowing it, he had crossed the trail leading upward three times. He stepped on some ice on the rocks, and the next instant was launched into space.

Sam had no time to get scared. Forth into the descending snow he was tossed, and down he went, to land first in a tree and then in some thick bushes growing close by. The wind was knocked completely out of him, and for the moment he could not move.

"Phew! that was a tumble!" he murmured, as he tried to sit up. He was wedged so tightly in the bushes that he could scarcely move. It was far from a pleasant situation, yet he realized that coming down first on the tree and then in the bushes had saved him from broken bones if not from death. He was considerably scratched up, but just then paid no attention to the hurts.

At last he managed to crawl out on the ground, or rather the snow, which was deeper in the valley than it had been up on the mountain. His torch had been extinguished, so all was dark around him.

"Dick!" he called, as loudly as he could. "Dick, are you anywhere around?"

"Sam!" came the faint reply. "Is that you? Yes, I am over here. Help me. I am wedged in between the trees and can't move!"

"Is Tom down here too?"

"I don't know."

CHAPTER XXIV

IN WHICH TOM IS FOUND

Guided by his brother's voice Sam at last found Dick. As the latter had said, he was wedged between two tall trees and in anything but a comfortable position. And how to release him was a problem.

"I guess I had better climb up and bend one of the trees over by my weight," suggested Sam. "I don't see any other way."

"All right, Sam. Only be careful and don't fall and let the tree snap back on me," answered Dick, weakly. In his cramped position he could scarcely breathe.

With great care Sam ascended the slimmest of the two trees, pushing it as far away from the other as possible. As he went up his weight told, and presently the tree commenced to bend down, away from the other.

"That's better – now I can move a little," cried Dick. "Go on! There, that's enough. All right, Sam, you can come down." And then Dick scrambled out in the snow and his brother joined him.

"Did you see anything at all of Tom?" asked the youngest Rover, as soon as both could get their breath.

"Not a thing, Sam. But I saw the tree that fell – it's caught on the cliff above here."

"Yes, I saw that – just before I took a tumble."

"Then you fell too?"

"Only from the last cliff. I landed in a tree and then some bushes, and got pretty well scratched. But come on, if you're able, and we'll look for Tom."

"What's that bundle you have strapped to your back?"

"I brought a little food along, in case we had to stay down here until to-morrow."

"I see. Wait, we'll light a torch first – we can't do much in the dark."

Dry brushwood was to be had in plenty, and the boys not only lit torches, but also made a fire, to light up the scene all around them Then they set off on their hunt, going up and down the base of the cliff for several hundred feet. It was now snowing so furiously that progress was difficult.

"We'll be snowed in, that's certain," remarked Sam, as they moved about, swinging their torches to the right and left.

"I don't care – if only we find Tom, and he isn't seriously hurt," returned his brother.

"But it's no fool of a thing, to be snow-bound in Alaska, Dick! I've heard of miners being starved to death – not being able to get anywhere for food!"

"Yes, I've heard of that, too. But do you want to give up this hunt for Tom?"

"Indeed not! I'll stick it out no matter what comes!" answered Sam, quickly.

As they moved along Dick presently saw what he thought was a rock or mound of dirt in front of him, covered with snow. He was about to step over it, when something prompted him to scrape at the object with his foot. The next instant he let out a cry.

"It's Tom!"

"Are you sure?" gasped Sam, who was a few yards away.

"Yes! yes! Here, hold my torch," went on Dick, and as Sam took the light, Dick knelt in the snow and raised up the inanimate form. It was Tom, true enough, with an ugly cut on his forehead, from which the blood had been flowing.

"Is – is he de – dead?" asked Sam, hoarsely.

"I – I don't know, Sam," was the slow answer. "You lead the way and I'll carry him back to where we built that fire."

"Oh, Dick, can't you tell if he is breathing?"

Dick put his ear to Tom's breast and for a moment there was a painful silence.

"I think he is breathing, Sam, but I am not quite sure. We'll get to the fire, and give him something hot to drink."

Sam led the way through the snow, carrying both torches, and Dick came after him, with the inanimate form of poor Tom over his shoulder. In a few minutes they reached the fire they had made, and Sam piled on some additional brushwood. Sam had rolled the food and other things he had brought along in a blanket, and this covering was now placed on the snow and Tom was laid on it, partly under the shelter of some bushes.

The two brothers got down and worked over the unconscious one for over a quarter of an hour. They had a bottle of a stimulent the doctor had given them for Tom, and now they forced a dose of this down the lad's throat. Then they rubbed his hands and wrists. Gradually they saw a change in Tom. He began to breath a little deeper and muttered something in an undertone.

"Tom! Tom!" cried Dick. "Don't you know me? Tom! It's Dick and Sam! Wake up, old man, that's a good fellow!"

"Oh, my head! Oh, my head!" came, with a groan, and the sufferer slowly stretched himself. Then he put one hand up to his forehead. "Oh, dear, what a crack I got!"

"Never mind, Tom, you'll soon be yourself," cried Sam, a big relief showing itself in his voice. Tom wasn't dead, perhaps after all he wasn't seriously hurt.

"Oh, my head!" was all the answer Tom made just then. He opened his eyes for an instant and then closed them again.

"Wonder if he will know us?" whispered Sam to Dick.

"I hope so," was the answer. "But come, we must do all we can for him. I don't think we can move him very far. But we'd be better off if we were in the shelter of that cliff."

"Wait, I'll hunt up a spot, Dick. But hadn't I better fire a shot first?" And Sam told of the signals that had been arranged.

"Yes, give 'em two shots," said the big brother. "If we want help later we can fire some more." And the shots were discharged without further delay.

This done, a shelter close to the cliff was selected. Here they cut down some brushwood with a hatchet Sam had brought along, and formed a barrier to keep out the wind and snow. Then another campfire was built and Tom was brought over and placed on the blanket, in a warm and cozy corner.

"Oh, my head!" he muttered, over and over again. Of a sudden he sat up as if in bewilderment. "Where am I?" he cried. "Is it time to get up? Say, Sam, I wonder if I've got time to write that theme I didn't do last night. Songbird said he would give me a few pointers, but I reckon he forgot all about it. Say, what makes it so cold in this room? It's time old Muggs turned on the steam heat."

"Tom! Tom!" said Sam. "Do you know me? Don't you know where you are?"

"Don't I know you? What are you talking about, Sam. Of course I know you. And Dick! Say, how did you get back to college, Dick? And why in thunder – ? Well, I declare!" Tom sat up and stared at the campfire and the snow. "How in the name of Washington's sword did I get here?" he gasped.

"Never mind that now, Tom," answered Dick, taking him by the hand. "How do you feel? You had a bad tumble, if you'll remember."

"Tumble? Where did I tumble from? Oh I remember – that moving picture show! Say, that Alaskan scene was great, wasn't it? I thought I'd like to go to Alaska after some of those nuggets. Funny, wasn't it?" And poor Tom grinned broadly. "But how did I get here, in the snow and cold. Say, have I been sick again, Dick?" And now the sufferer looked sharply at his brothers.

"Yes, Tom, you've been – very sick," answered Dick, slowly. "How do you feel now? You had a bad tumble, and we were afraid you had been killed."

"Where did I tumble from, the roof of the dormitory?"

"No, you fell down the mountain side."

"Eh? What mountain side?"

"The one right back of you. But don't bother about that now. Just take it easy and rest yourself," went on Dick, soothingly.

"Are you sure no bones are broken?" asked Sam, anxiously.

"I don't remember anything about a tumble," said Tom, slowly. "I – I – thought I was in our room at Brill, old number twenty-five. And it wasn't winter either. Say, I can't understand all this. Are we out in the woods back of Brill? Hadn't we better get back? See how it's snowing."

"We won't go back to-night, Tom," answered Dick. "You just take my advice and lie down and keep quiet. If you are hungry you can have something to eat."

"I don't want anything to eat – I had a bang-up supper, the last I can remember. But I seem to be in a fog. I don't remember anything about how I got here. And my head hurts to beat the band! Feels as if a lot of boiler makers were working inside of it!" Tom put his hand up as of old. "I guess I'll – I'll have to – to leave it all to you!" he went on faintly, and then fell back on the blanket, completely exhausted.

CHAPTER XXV

THE SHELTER UNDER THE CLIFF

Despite the fact that they were caught in a furious snowstorm, and that there was no telling how long the downfall would last, Sam and Dick felt very happy as they crouched by the campfire in the shelter of the cliff. They had found their brother, and he did not seem to be seriously hurt by the long tumble he had taken.

"I guess we had better let him rest quietly, Sam," whispered Dick, as both bent over the sufferer. "It will probably do him more good than anything."

"Just what I think, Dick. But tell me, do you think he is in his right mind now?"

"I can't tell, exactly. One thing is sure, he doesn't seem to remember anything of his trip to this out-of-the-way spot."

"Isn't it queer! I never thought a fellow's mind could play him such tricks!"

"Oh, men have been known to wander away and then come to themselves and not remember a thing about how it happened. Maybe that tumble did him good."

The two boys stirred around the shelter, fixing the fire and making the barrier of brushwood more secure. Tom continued to rest, occasionally muttering to himself.

"We might as well have something to eat, since you brought something along," remarked Dick, presently. "And then we'll have to turn in. We can take turns at sleeping and at watching Tom."

"Do you think we'll be completely snowed in by morning?"

"Let us hope not."

An hour later Sam was sleeping, while Dick sat on some brushwood, tending the fire and keeping an eye on Tom. It was very quiet, and the snow was coming down as thickly as ever. Dick had much to occupy his mind – the perils of the present situation, his father's business affairs, and Dora.

"Poor Dora!" he murmured. "She'll be much worried until she hears from me again. Well, I won't mind all this, if only Tom comes out of it in his right mind." It made Dick sick from head to foot to think that fun-loving Tom might have to go to an asylum. Such a happening would wreck the happiness of every member of the family, and wreck dear Nellie's happiness, too.

Dick remained on watch for three hours and then roused Sam and turned in himself. So the long night passed, Tom continuing to sleep, and only rousing up once and demanding a drink. And he went on sleeping when Dick and Sam arose to get breakfast and form their plans for the day.

It had stopped snowing, but the sky was still overcast. It was colder than before – a drop in the thermometer which meant but one thing – that the long Alaskan winter had arrived. For months to come everything would be frozen up as hard as a rock.

"I'd give a good deal to be back in Dawson," remarked Dick, while munching a scant breakfast. He and Sam had decided to make the food on hand last as long as possible.

"So would I. But I don't see ourselves getting there in this fall of snow – and with more snow in the air."

"I don't see what we're going to do with Tom, if he can't walk. We can't carry him."

"We can make a drag – a sort of sled, Sam – and haul him on that."

"So we can! How queer I didn't think of it! Why, it will be just the thing!" And the face of the youngest Rover brightened up considerably.

Just what move to make next would depend in a great measure on how Tom felt when he roused up. His brothers watched him anxiously, but made no move to wake him.

It was about ten o'clock in the forenoon when a shout was heard, and, looking through the bushes, the boys beheld Jack Wumble and Ike Furner. Each had a pack on his back.

"Hello!" cried Dick, and ran out to meet them.

"Oh, so there ye are!" exclaimed Jack Wumble. "Thought ye must be somewhere around here. How are ye, all right?" he went on, anxiously.

"Yes. A little scratched up, that's all."

"An' Sam, an' Tom?"

"Sam is a bit scratched up, too. We found Tom and he doesn't seem to have any bones broken. But he is very weak, and we are letting him sleep," and Dick gave some particulars.

"We had some job getting off the mountain," said the old miner, and then he added, in a somewhat lower tone. "I've told Furner all about Tom and it's all right."

"I reckoned as how he wasn't just O.K.," said Ike Furner. "But then some folks say I ain't jest all right, when I know I am," and he tossed back his head. He was by no means crazy, only peculiar and headstrong.

"Do you think we can get back to Dawson?" asked Sam, who had come forward after Dick.

"Maybe, lad; but it will be a tough journey in this snow," answered Wumble.

"I'm going to stay here an' look fer gold!" cried Ike Furner, stubbornly. "I've got your brother's part of our outfit here." He passed it over. "There's Lion Head, and over yonder is the Split Rocks. I think I'm about due to find a fortune," and he drew himself up to his full height.

"Well, we are not going to stop you," answered Dick. "All we came after was our brother. But it's a pity to leave you here all alone."

"Oh, I won't mind that. I've often been alone in the mountains. Fact is, I rather like it. When a feller is alone he can do just as he pleases."

"That is true," answered Dick, with a faint smile.

"I know some other miners up here," went on Ike Furner. "I'm going to hit for their camp an' stay there till Spring. How is the brother makin' it?"