Part 40 (1/2)

”I--I don't know,” gasped Sam. ”Some--something struck me on th--the head.”

With the a.s.sistance of the old miner and d.i.c.k he arose to his feet, and all three staggered back to where Tom had been left. The ruins of the hut rested against a s...o...b..nk, and, to get out of the wind, they crawled between the logs and the snow.

”This is the worst yet,” was d.i.c.k's comment. ”How are we ever to find our way back to Dawson from here?”

n.o.body could answer that question. Just now they had all they could do to keep warm.

”You stay here while I take a little look around,” said Jack Wumble, presently. ”I may learn somethin' wuth knowin'.”

”But don't get lost, Jack,” cautioned d.i.c.k.

”I'll be careful,” was the answer.

The old miner was gone less than ten minutes when he set up a shout.

”What have you found?” asked d.i.c.k, quickly.

”Here's a signboard,” was the reply. ”I reckon as how there's a trail here. It says somethin', but I can't make it out.”

”Let's light a torch,” suggested Sam, and this was done. They brushed the snow from the signboard and read the following, printed in crude letters:

10 mILes to Sublers sTORes

Below this lettering was a crude drawing of a hand pointing up the lake.

”Subler's Stores!” cried the old miner. ”I've heard o' that place.

It's quite a depot for supplies. If we could only git thar we'd be all right.”

”Let's try it,” suggested d.i.c.k. ”The wind is right down the lake, so it will make traveling that much easier.”

They labored hard, in the darkness and wind, to construct a drag out of the ruins of the hut. On this they placed Tom and also such of their scanty traps and provisions as still remained to them.

But once out on the lake, they realized that the task before them was no easy one. Here the wind blew with terrific force, sending them further and further away from the sh.o.r.e which they wanted to skirt. It had stopped snowing and seemed to be growing colder.

”I--I ca--can't stand this!” gasped Sam, after a while. ”I'm fr--freezing!”

”So--so am I,” answered d.i.c.k. ”Tom, are you all right?”

”I'm pretty co--cold,” was the chattered-out reply.

”We can't make it, I reckon,” said the old miner, who was as chilled as any of them. ”We'll have to go ash.o.r.e an' git out of the wind an'

build a fire to thaw out by.”

But getting ash.o.r.e was out of the question. When they tried to turn around the fierce wind fairly took their breath away. So they continued to advance, the wind at times carrying them almost off their feet.

”We are on the ice and no mistake!” cried d.i.c.k, after a while. ”See, the wind has blown the snow completely away.”

He was right. All around them was the ice, dark and exceedingly slippery. They seemed to be in the midst of a great field of it.