Part 35 (1/2)

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. ”d.i.c.k, 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 d.i.c.k.

”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 d.i.c.k. ”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 d.i.c.k, 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k. ”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.

”d.i.c.k! d.i.c.k!” yelled Sam. ”Are you safe?”