Part 41 (1/2)

After about one minute that seemed like an hour, the slide had descended to less steep ground. Here it hit a little pine wood, and Joe just could see, through the flying snow, the trees go cras.h.i.+ng down in front, and those on either side (their tops level with his feet!) bow and bend in the wind made by the rus.h.i.+ng slide. A second later a tree came boiling up out of the snow right under his feet--or a log, rather, for all its branches were stripped off. He jumped madly to avoid it, and it missed him only by a hair's breadth.

Beyond the wood, the slide ran out into an open park, went up the incline on the further side by its own momentum, and there spread itself out and came to rest.

Joe wiped the snow-dust from his eyes and looked to see what had become of Tom and the Ranger. He was still on his feet, but they were not. The final slump of the slide, with the tail end on which they rode telescoping over the centre, had flung them down and half buried them.

For some reason Joe had been able to keep his feet. He sprang to help them up, crying, ”Are you hurt?”

They both rose, dazed, and wiped their faces.

”I--I dunno!” Tom said. ”I haven't had time to find out!”

The Ranger was red with rage.

”It had no business to start there!” he exclaimed. ”We ought to have been in a safe place. Teaches me a lesson--you can't bank on slides any time o' year. That drift above where we stood is always anch.o.r.ed till spring.”

”Well, I guess it's lucky we're alive!” Joe exclaimed. ”Wow! that was some ride! I never was kept so busy in my life!”

”And I never want to be again,” Mills said. ”Boys, had enough slides for to-day? Seen how they work?”

”I sure have!” both exclaimed, in one breath.

”Let's go home. What I'd like to see now is a Chinook wind, to take some of this snow away. There's too much of it.”

”Do Chinook winds come before spring?” Joe asked. He had heard of the dry, warm wind which comes over the ranges, from the warm Pacific current, raising the temperature sometimes sixty degrees in as many minutes, and evaporating the snow like magic.

”Sometimes,” Mills said. ”And we need it now, or all the animals will starve.”

They were all too weary and even a bit shaky after that terrific ride, to do much more that day. Mills did go over to try his telephone, which he found the storm had put out of commission again, and then they sat around the cabin and talked over the two minute excitement, which had seemed, while it lasted, nearer two hours.

For supper that night Joe got out a can of lobster he found in the storeroom. He thought it would be a special treat, and it was to Mills, but Tom didn't like lobster, and Joe himself didn't care much for it, either, when he came to taste it. So Mills ate it all.

”Came near death this morning--might as well risk my life again to-night,” he laughed.

CHAPTER XXVIII--Tom Starts on a Long Hike in the Deep Snow, Over the Divide, Risking Snow-Slides, to Save the Ranger's Life

The Ranger spoke in jest, but in the night the boys were awakened by his groans, and they found his words were anything but a joke. He was suffering terrible pain, in his stomach evidently, and they had never seen anybody look so sick. They scrambled into clothes; Joe made up the fire and put on water to heat, while Tom got out their first aid kit, and made an emetic, which they got down the poor Ranger's throat. The results eased his pain a little, but the boys were certainly scared.

”We _got_ to get a doctor,” Tom cried. ”We _got_ to--a doctor or somebody who knows what to do. I got to get over Swift Current, and down to Lake McDonald, to the Park superintendent's office. That's all there is to it.”

”You can't--you can't!” Joe exclaimed. ”Think of that head wall if a slide hit you! Besides, it's thirty miles to the hotel at the head of the lake, and you don't know the way. I do. I'll have to go.”

”A lot I'll let _you_ go! No such over-exertion for you, and you just well. Besides, I know the way over the pa.s.s and down to Mineral Creek.

Then I turn south, through the woods, and just follow the one trail. I couldn't miss it, and if I did, all I'd have to do would be to take the creek bed. I can start before daylight, get to the head wall at sunrise, be over the pa.s.s and down the other side before noon, and have five hours of light to make twenty miles.”

”What if there shouldn't be any caretaker at the hotel at the head of the lake?” said Joe.