Part 44 (1/2)

It was well that he did this, otherwise he might have missed poor Tom, who lay in a slight hollow, partly covered with snow. The sled had hit a rock and the poor youth had been flung out with great force, landing on one shoulder and on his head.

”Tom! Tom! Are you alive? Answer me!” cried d.i.c.k, as he raised his brother in his arms. But no reply came from Tom's lips. He was unconscious.

With all the strength that remained to him, d.i.c.k carried his brother to the spot where he had found the traps. Then he quickly undid the bundles, to see if there was anything there he might use. He found a tiny oil stove, filled with oil, and lit it, and then rolled Tom in two blankets, and gave him something hot to drink. Then he found a stick of wood, soaked it well in oil, and set it up in the ice as a torch.

All this while Tom lay like a log. He was breathing heavily, but he did not open his eyes or speak. Evidently the shock had been a heavy one. d.i.c.k did not know but what some of his brother's bones might be broken.

An anxious hour went by, and in that time d.i.c.k did all he could for Tom, who still laid in a stupor. Then came a shout, and Gus Schmidt appeared, driving his dog team and with the runaway team also in harness. Behind the first sled was the second--the one Tom had taken.

”So you got your brudder, hey?” said the German. ”How vos he?”

”In bad shape, I'm afraid,” answered d.i.c.k, soberly. ”I guess the dogs ran away and pitched him overboard.”

”I d.i.n.k you vos right, und da drow dem dings oferpoard, doo,” and Schmidt, pointed to the traps. ”Veil, it's goot ve got der draps und er sled pack.”

”Can we get back to the others tonight?”

”Nein, it was too dark und cold. Ve go in der morning, to Riss Rifer.

Maybe dare you got a doctor, yah.”

So it was settled, and the German proceeded to make himself and the others as comfortable as possible. He prepared something to eat, and suggested that Tom be given a little broth, made out of some dried meat. This was done, and presently the sufferer opened his eyes and tried to sit up.

”Whe--where in th--the world am I?” he asked, in a faint voice.

”Tom, you're all right,” answered his brother, soothingly. ”Do you know me?”

”Why, of course I know you,” came the wondering answer. ”What happened to me, d.i.c.k?”

”You ran off with a dog sled and got a nasty tumble.”

”A dog sled? d.i.c.k, you are stringing me? Who's got a dog sled around Brill?”

”Never mind, Tom, just keep quiet. You're very sick. Just rest yourself.”

”All right.” Tom heaved a deep sigh. ”Gos.h.!.+ I do feel pretty bad!”

he added. He had tried to sit up, but now fell back exhausted.

It was a night never to be forgotten. The German snored peacefully, but d.i.c.k did not close his eyes. He watched Tom closely, to do all he could for his brother and make certain that the sufferer should not get away again.

During the night it stopped snowing and in the morning the sun came out as brightly as ever. d.i.c.k was astir early, and was gratified to see that Tom was sleeping peacefully. They did not awaken the sufferer until Gus Schmidt announced himself ready to move on.

Tom was still very weak, but d.i.c.k was gratified to see that he appeared to be in his right mind, and his eyes were brighter than they had been in many a day.

”I can't understand this,” he said, when he was bundled up and placed on one of the sleds. ”I feel as if I had had some awful dream.”

”So you have had, Tom,” was d.i.c.k's reply. ”And I want you to be careful, so that that awful dream doesn't come back.”

”But where are we, d.i.c.k?”

”In Alaska, Tom. Now do keep quiet, please.”