The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound

Brushing the accumulated snow from his camera, he quickly had the precious article in his possession.

“Nothing else to keep us here, is there, Paul?” asked Jud.

“No, and the sooner we strike a warm gait for the cabin the better,” said the scout-master. “You notice, if anything, that wind is getting sharper right along, and the snow strikes you on the cheek like shot pellets, stinging furiously. So far as I’m concerned we can’t make the camp any too soon.”

Nevertheless, it might have been noticed that Paul did not hurry, in the sense that he forgot to keep his wits about him. The warning given by Tolly Tip was still fresh in his ears, and even without it Paul would hardly have allowed himself to become indiscreet or careless.

Jack, too, saw that they were following the exact line they had taken in coming out. As a scout he knew that the other did not get his bearings from any marks on the ground, such as might easily be obliterated by falling snow. Trees formed the basis of Paul’s calculations. He particularly noticed every peculiarly shaped tree or growth upon the right side while going out, which would bring them on his left in returning.

In this fashion the scout-master virtually blazed a path as he went; for those trees gave him his points just as well as though they represented so many gashes made with a hatchet.

“I’m fairly wild to develop this film, and see whether the bear paid for his treat with a good picture,” Paul ventured to say when they were about half way to the camp.

“Do you know what I was thinking about just then?” asked Jack.

“Something that had to do with other fellows, I’ll be bound,” replied the scout-master. “You were looking mighty serious, and I’d wager a cookey that you just remembered there were other fellows up here to be caught in the blizzard besides our crowd.”

Jack laughed at hearing this.

“You certainly seem to be a wizard, Paul, to guess what was in my mind,” he told his chum. “But it’s just as you say. Sim Jeffreys told us the other day that they had come up with only a small amount of food along. If they’ve stayed around up to now they’re apt to find themselves in a pretty bad pickle.”

“That’s a fact, Jack, if this storm keeps on for several days, and the snow happens to block all the paths out of the woods. Let’s hope they gave it up, and went back home again. We haven’t seen a thing of them since then, you remember.”

Jack shook his head.

“You know how pig-headed Hank Lawson always is,” he told his chum. “Once he gets started in a thing, he hates everlastingly to give up. He came here to bother us, I feel sure, and a little thing like a shortage of provisions wouldn’t force him to call the game off.”

“Then it’s your opinion, is it, Jack, they’re still in that hole among the rocks Sim spoke of?”

“Chances are three to one it’s that way,” quickly replied Jack. “They have guns, and could get some game that way, for they know how to hunt. Then if it came to the worst perhaps Hank would try to sneak around our cabin, hoping to find a chance to steal some of our supplies.”

A short time later they sighted the cabin through the now thickly falling snow, and both boys felt very glad to be able to get under shelter.

Tolly Tip did not return until some hours had passed. By that time the snow carried by a furious wind that howled madly around the corners, was sweeping past the windows of the cabin like a cloud of dust.

Everybody was glad when the old woodsman arrived. He flung several prizes down on the floor, not having taken the time to detach the pelts.

“’Tis a screecher av a blizzard we’re after havin’ drop in on us, by the same token,” he said, with quivering lips, as he stretched out his hands toward the cheerful blaze of the fire.

Being very eager to ascertain what measure of success had fallen to him with regard to the bear episode, Paul proceeded to develop the film.

When he rejoined the other boys in the front room some time later he was holding up the developed film, still dripping with water.

“The best flashlight I ever got, let me tell you!” Paul exclaimed. At this there was a cheer and a rush to see the film.

There was the bear, looking very much astonished at the sudden brilliant illumination which must have seemed like a flash of lightning to him.

All day long the storm howled, the snow drifted and scurried around the cabin. Whenever the boys went for wood they had to be very careful lest they lose their way even in such a short distance, for it was impossible to see five feet ahead. When they went to bed that night the same conditions held good, and every one felt that they were in the grip of the greatest blizzard known for ten years.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE DUTY OF THE SCOUT

When two days had passed and the storm still raged, the scouts began to feel more anxious than ever. The snow continued to sweep past the cabin in blinding sheets. It was difficult to know whether all this came from above, or if some was snatched up from the ground and whirled about afresh.

In some places enormous drifts abounded, while other more exposed spots had been actually swept bare by the wind.

The scouts had not suffered in the least, save mentally. The cabin proved to be fairly warm, thanks to the great fire they kept going day and night; and they certainly had no reason to fear for any lack of provisions with which to satisfy their ever present appetites.

Still, from time to time, murmurs could be heard.

“One thing sure!” Sandy Griggs was saying toward noon on this third day of the blizzard, “this storm is going to upset a whole lot of our plans.”

“Knock ’em into a jiffy!” added Bluff.

“We’ll never be able to skate down the creek to the lake, if it’s covered with two feet of snow,” Sandy growled.

“Oh! for all we know,” laughed Paul, “this wind has been a good friend to us, and may keep the smooth ice clear of snow. We’d better not cry until we know the milk has really been spilled.”

“But any way,” Bluff continued, bound to find some cause for the gloomy feelings that clung like a wet blanket, “we’ll never be able to run our iceboats back home. Chances are we’ll have to drag them most of the way.”

“All right, then,” Paul told him, “we’ll make the best of a bad bargain. If you only look hard enough, Bluff and Sandy, you’ll find the silver lining to every cloud. And no matter how the storm upsets some of our plans we ought to be thankful we’ve got such a snug shelter, and plenty of good things to eat—thanks to Mr. Garrity.”

“Yes, that’s what I just had in mind, Paul,” spoke up Bobolink. “Now, you all needn’t begin to grin at me when I say that. I was thinking more about the fellows who may be shivering and hungry, than of our own well-fed crowd.”

“Oh! The Lawsons!” exclaimed Bluff. “That’s a fact. While we’re having such a royal time of it here they may be up against it good and hard.”

Perhaps all of the boys had from time to time allowed their thoughts to stray away, and mental pictures of the Lawson crowd suffering from hunger and cold intruded upon their minds. They forgot whatever they chanced to be doing at that moment, and came around Paul.

“In one way it would serve them right if they did get a little rough experience,” observed Spider Sexton, who perhaps had suffered more at the hands of the Stanhope bully and his set than any of the other scouts.

“Oh, that sort of remark hardly becomes you, Spider,” Paul reminded him. “If you remember some of the rules and regulations to which you subscribed when joining the organization you’ll find that scouts have no business to feel bitter toward any one, especially when the fellows they look on as enemies may be suffering.”

“Excuse me, Paul, I guess I spoke without thinking,” said Spider, with due humility. “And to prove it I’m going to suggest that we figure out some way we might be of help to Hank and his lot.”

“That’s more like it, Spider!” the scout-master exclaimed, as though pleased. “None of us fancy those fellows, because so far we’ve failed to make any impression on them. Several times we’ve tried to make an advance, but they jeered at us, and seemed to think it was only fear on our part that made us try to throw a bridge across the chasm separating us. It’s going to be different if, as we half believe, they’re in serious trouble.”

“But Paul, what could we do to help them?” demanded Bluff.

“With this storm raging to beat the band,” added Tom Betts, “it would be as much as our lives were worth to venture out. Why, you can’t see ten feet away; and we’d be going around in a circle until the cold got us in the end.”

“Hold on, fellows, don’t jump at conclusions so fast,” Paul warned them. “I’d be the last one to advise going out into the woods with the storm keeping up. But Tolly Tip told me the snow stopped hours ago. What we see whirling around is only swept by the wind, for it’s as dry as powder you know. And even the wind seems to be dying down now, and is blowing in spasms.”

“Paul, you’re right, as you nearly always are,” Jack affirmed, after he had pressed his nose against the cold glass of the little window. “And say! will you believe me when I say that I can see a small patch of blue sky up yonder—big enough to make a Dutchmen’s pair of breeches?”

“Hurrah! that settles the old blizzard then!” cried Sandy Griggs. “You all remember, don’t you, the old saying, ‘between eleven and two it’ll tell you what it’s going to do?’ I’ve seen it work out lots of times.”

“Yes,” retorted Jud, “and fail as often in the bargain. That’s one of the exploded signs. When they come out right you believe in ’em, and when they miss, why you just forget all about it, and go on hoping. But in this case I reckon the old storm must have blown itself about out, and we can look for a week of cold, clear weather now.”

“We’ll wait until after lunch,” said Paul, in his decided fashion that the boys knew so well; “then, if things brighten up, we’ll see what we can do. Those fellows must be suffering, more or less, and it’s our duty to help them, no matter whether they bother to thank us or not.”

“Scouts don’t want thanks when they do their duty,” said Phil Towns, grandly. “But I suppose you’ll hardly pick me out as one of the rescue party, Paul?”

“I’d rather have the hardiest fellows along with me, Phil,” replied the scout-master, kindly; “though I’m glad to know you feel willing to serve. It counts just as much to want to go, as to be allowed to be one of the number.”

Bobolink especially showed great delight over the possibility of their setting out to relieve the enemy in distress. A dozen times he went to the door and passed out, under the plea that they might as well have plenty of wood in the cabin; but on every occasion upon his return he would report the progress of the clearing skies.

“Have the sun shining right away now, boys,” he finally announced, with a beaming face. “And the wind’s letting up, more or less. Times are when you can see as far as a hundred feet. And say! it’s a wonderful sight let me tell you.”

Noon came and they sat down to the lunch that had been prepared for them, this time by Frank and Spider, Bobolink having begged off. The sun was shining in a dazzling way upon the white-coated ground. It looked like fairyland the boys declared, though but little of the snow had remained on the oaks, beeches and other forest trees, owing to the furious and persistent wind.

The hemlocks, however, were bending low with the weight that pressed upon their branches. Some of the smaller ones looked like snow pyramids, and it was plain to be seen that during the remainder of the winter most of this snow was bound to hang on.

“If we only had a few pairs of snow-shoes like Tolly Tip’s here,” suggested Bobolink, enthusiastically, “we might skim along over ten-foot drifts, and never bother about things.”

“Yes,” Jud told him, a bit sarcastically, “if we knew just how to manage the bally things, we might. But it isn’t so easy as you think. Most of us would soon be taking headers, and finding ourselves upside down. It’s a trick that has to be learned; and some fellows never can get the hang, I’ve been told.”

“Well, there’s no need of our talking about it,” interposed Paul, “because there’s only one pair of snow-shoes in the cabin, and all of us can’t wear those. But Tolly Tip says we’re apt to find avenues swept in the snow by the wind, where we can walk for the most part on clear ground, with but few drifts to wade through.”

“It may make a longer journey av the same,” the old woodsman explained; “but if luck favors us we’ll git there in due time, I belave, if so be ye settle on goin’.”

Nothing could hold the scouts back, it seemed. This idea of setting forth to succor an enemy in distress had taken a firm hold upon their imaginations.

Besides, those days when they were shut up in the storm-besieged cabin had been fearfully long to their active spirits, and on this account, too, they welcomed the chance to do something.

There could no longer be any doubt that the storm had blown itself out, for the sky was rapidly clearing. The air remained bitter cold, and Paul advised those whom he selected to accompany him to wrap themselves up with additional care, for he did not wish to have them take the chance of frosting their toes and their noses.

Those who were fortunate enough to be drafted for the trip were Jack, Jud, Bobolink and Tom Betts. Some of the others felt slighted, but tried to be as cheerful over their disappointment as possible.

Of course, Tolly Tip was to accompany them, for he would not have allowed the boys to set out without his guidance, under such changed and really hazardous conditions. A trained woodsman would be necessary in order to insure the boys against possible disaster in the storm-bound forest.

Well bundled up, and bearing packs on their backs consisting in the main of provisions, the six started off, followed by the cheers and good wishes of their comrades, and were soon lost to view amidst the white aisles of the forest.

CHAPTER XXV

AMONG THE SNOWDRIFTS

“This is hard work after all, let me own up!” announced Jud Elderkin, after they had been pushing on for nearly half an hour.

“To tell you the truth,” admitted Tom Betts, “we’ve turned this way and that so often now I don’t know whether we’re heading straight.”

“Trust Tolly Tip for that,” urged Paul. “And besides, if you’d taken your bearings as you should have done when starting, you could tell from the position of the sun that right now we’re going straight toward that far-off hill.”

“Good for ye, Paul!” commented the guide, who was deeply interested in finding out just how much woods lore these scouts had picked up during their many camp experiences.

“Well, here’s where we’re up against it good and hard,” observed Bobolink.

The clear space they had been following came to an abrupt end, and before them lay a great drift of snow, at least five or six feet deep.

“Do we try to flounder through this, or turn around and try another way?” asked Jud, looking as though, if the decision rested with him, he would only too gladly attack the heap of snow.

Before deciding, Tolly Tip climbed into the fork of a tree. From this point of vantage he was able to see beyond the drift. He dropped down presently with a grin on his face.

“It’s clear ag’in beyant the hape av snow; so we’d better try to butt through the same,” he told them. “Let me go first, and start a path. Whin I play out one av the rist av ye may take the lead. Come along, boys.”

The relief party plunged into the great drift with merry shouts, being filled with the enthusiasm of abounding youth. The big woodsman kept on until even he began to tire of the work; or else guessed that Jud was eager to take his place.

In time they had passed beyond the obstacle, and again found themselves traversing a windswept avenue that led in the general direction they wished to go.

A short time afterwards Jud uttered a shout.

“Hold on a minute, fellows!” he called out.

“What ails you now, Jud—got a cramp in your leg, or do you think it’s time we stopped for a bite of lunch?” demanded Bobolink.

“Here’s the plain track of a deer,” answered Jud, pointing down as he spoke. “And it was made only a short time ago you can see, because while the wind blows the snow some every little while, it hasn’t filled the track.”

“That’s good scout logic, Jud,” affirmed Paul; and even the old woodsman nodded his head as though he liked to hear the boy think things out so cleverly.

“Here it turns into this blind path,” continued Jud, “which I’d like to wager ends before long in a big drift. Like as not if we chose to follow, we’d find Mr. Stag wallowing in the deepest kind of snow, and making an easy mark.”

“Well, we can’t turn aside just now, to hunt a poor deer that is having a hard enough time of it keeping life in his body,” said Tom Betts, aggressively.

“No, we’ll let the poor beast have his chance to get away,” said the scout-master. “We’ve started out on a definite errand, and mustn’t allow ourselves to be drawn aside. So put your best foot forward again, Jud.”

Jud looked a little loth to give up the chance to get the deer, a thing he had really set his mind on. However, there would still be plenty of time to accomplish this, and equal Bobolink’s feat, whereby the other had been able to procure fresh venison for the camp.

“How far along do you think we are, Tolly Tip?” asked Tom Betts, after more time had passed, and they began to feel the result of their struggle.

“More’n half way there, I’d be sayin’,” the other replied. “Though it do same as if the drifts might be gittin’ heavier the closer we draw to the hill. Av ye fale tired mebbe we’d better rist up a bit.”

“What, me tired!” exclaimed Tom, disdainfully, at the same time putting new life in his movements. “Why, I’ve hardly begun to get started so far. Huh! I’m good for all day at this sort of work, I’m so fond of ploughing through the snow.”

The forest seemed very solemn and silent. Doubtless nearly all of the little woods folk found themselves buried under the heavy fall of snow, and it would take time for them to tunnel out.

“Listen to the crows cawing as they fly overhead,” said Jud, presently.

“They’re gathering in a big flock over there somewhere,” remarked Paul.

“They’re having what they call a crow caucus,” explained Jack. “They do say that the birds carry on in the queerest way, just as if they were holding court to try one of their number that had done something criminal.”

“More likely they’re getting together to figure it out where they can find the next meal,” suggested Bobolink, sensibly. “This snow must have covered up pretty nearly everything. But at the worst they can emigrate to the South—can get to Virginia, where the climate isn’t so severe.”

As they pushed their way onward the boys indulged in other discussions along such lines as this. They were wideawake, and observed every little thing that occurred around them, and as these often pertained to the science of woodcraft which they delighted to study, they found many opportunities to give forth their opinions.

“We ought to be getting pretty near that old hill, seems to me,” observed Tom, when another hour had dragged by. Then he quickly added: “Not that I care much, you know, only the sooner we see if Hank and his cronies are in want the better it’ll be.”

“There it is right now, dead ahead of us!” exclaimed Jud, who had a pair of wonderfully keen eyes.

Through an opening among the trees they could all see the hill beyond, although it was so covered with snow that its outlines seemed shadowy, and it was little wonder none of them had noticed it before.

“Not more’n a quarter of a mile off, I should say,” declared Tom Betts, unable to hide fully the sense of pleasure the discovery gave him.

“But all the same we’ll have a pretty tough time making it,” remarked Jud. “It strikes me the snow is deeper right here than in any place yet, and the paths fewer in number.”

“How is that, Tolly Tip?” asked Bobolink.

“Ye say, the hill shunted off some av the wind,” explained the other without any hesitation; “and so the snow could drop to the ground without bein’ blown about so wild like. ’Tis a fine blanket lies ahead av us, and we’ll have to do some harrd wadin’ to make our way through the same.”

“Hit her up!” cried Tom, valiantly. “Who cares for such a little thing as snow piles?”

They floundered along as best they could. It turned out to be anything but child’s play, and tested their muscular abilities from time to time.

In vain they looked about them as they drew near the hill; there was not a single trace of any one moving around. Some of the scouts began to feel very queerly as they stared furtively at the snow covered elevation. It reminded them of a white tomb, for somewhere underneath it they feared the four boys from Stanhope might be buried, too weak to dig their way out.

Tolly Tip led them on with unerring fidelity.

“How does it come, Tolly Tip,” asked the curious Jud as they toiled onward, “that you remember this hole in the rocks so well?”

“That’s an aisy question to answer,” replied the other, with one of his smiles. “Sure ’twas some years ago that I do be having a nate little ruction with the only bear I iver kilt in this section. He was a rouser in the bargain, I’d be after tillin’ ye. I had crawled into the rift in the rocks to say where it lid whin I found mesilf up aginst it.”

“Oh! in that case I can see that you would be apt to remember the hole in the rocks always,” commented Jud. “A fellow is apt to see that kind of thing many a time in his dreams. So those fellows happened on the old bear den, did they?”

“We’re clost up to the same now, I’m plazed to till ye,” announced the guide. “If ye cast an eye beyont ye’ll mebbe notice that spur av rock that stands out like a ploughshare. Jist behind the same we’ll strike the crack in the rocks, and like as not find it filled to the brim wid the snow.”

When the five scouts and their guide stood alongside the spur of rock, looking down into the cavity now hidden by ten feet of snow, they were somehow forced to turn uneasy faces toward one another. It was deathly still there, and not a sign could they see to indicate that under the shroud of snow the four Stanhope boys might be imprisoned, almost dead with cold and hunger.

CHAPTER XXVI

DUG OUT

The boys realized that they had heavy work before them if they hoped to dig a way down through that mass of snow and reach the cleft in the rocks.

“Just mark out where we have to get busy, Tolly Tip,” called out Bobolink, after they had put aside their packs, and primed themselves for work, “and see how we can dig.”

“I speak for first turn with the snow shovel!” cried Jud. “It’ll bring a new set of muscles into play, for one thing, and that means relief. I own up that my legs feel pretty well tuckered out.”

The woodsman, however, chose to begin the work himself. After taking his bearings carefully, he began to dig the snow shovel deep down, and cast the loosely packed stuff aside.

In order to reach the cleft in the rocks they would have to cut a tunnel through possibly twenty feet or more of snow.

So impatient was Jud to take a hand that he soon begged the guide to let him have a turn at the work. Tolly Tip prowled around, and some of the boys wondered what he could be doing until he came back presently with great news.

“’Tis smoke I do be after smellin’ beyant there!” he told them.

“Smoke!” exclaimed Bobolink, staring up the side of the white hill. “How can that be when there isn’t the first sign of a fire?”

“You don’t catch on to the idea, Bobolink,” explained Paul. “He means that those in the cave must have some sort of fire going, and the smoke finds its way out through some small crevices that lie under a thin blanket of snow. Am I right there, Tolly Tip?”

“Ye sure hit the nail on the head, Paul,” he was told by the guide.

“Well, that’s good news,” admitted Bobolink, with a look of relief on his face. “If they’ve got enough wood to keep even a small fire going, they won’t be found frozen to death anyhow.”

“And,” continued Jud, who had given the shovel over to Jack, “it takes some days to really starve a fellow, I understand. You see I’ve been reading lately about the adventures of the Dr. Kane exploring company up in the frozen Arctic regions. When it got to the worst they staved off starvation by making soup of their boots.”