Part 46 (1/2)
But the cry was cut off at his lips. The terrific force of the s.h.i.+fting gusts hurled the sound back into his throat so that it came to his own ears faint and far. Again and again he called, and each time the feeble effort was drowned in the dull roar of the storm.
An unreasoning rage at the futility of it overcame him and he plunged blindly ahead, unheeding, stumbling, falling, rising to his feet and staggering among the tumbled rocks at the foot of the bluff--and then almost in his ear came the sharp, quick sound of a rifle-shot and another and another, at a second apart--the distress signal of the Northland.
CHAPTER XLII
BUCKING THE STORM
Bill Carmody wheeled against the solid rock wall and frantically felt his way along its broken surface. His groping hands encountered a cleft barely wide enough to admit the pa.s.sage of a man's body.
With a final effort he called again; instantly the high, clear tones of the boy's voice rang in his ears from the depths of the rock cavern, and the next moment small hands were tugging at his armpits.
”Oh! Bill, I knew you would come!” a small voice cried close to his ear. ”It was my last three shots. I've been shooting every little while for hours and hours. Hold on! We've got to take off your snowshoes; they won't come through the door.”
A few minutes later the man sat upon the hard floor of the cave which reeked of the rank animal odor of a long-used den. The place was bare of snow and he leaned back against a soft, furry body while the boy rattled on:
”I killed the _loup-cervier_! I chased him in here and shot him right square through the head. And he never kicked--just slunked down in a heap and dropped his rabbit. And now, if we had some matches, we could build a fire--if we had some wood--and cook him. I'm hungry--aren't you?”
The boy's utter disregard of the real seriousness of their plight, and the nave way in which he accepted the coming of his friend as a matter of course, irritated the man, who listened in scowling silence.
”Blood River Jack _was_ right,” Charlie went on. ”I thought he just wanted a chance to sleep for a day. Pretty good storm, isn't it? Say, Bill, how did he know it was going to snow?”
”Look here, young man,” Bill replied wrathfully, ”do you realize that we are in a mighty bad fix, right this minute? And that it is your fault? And that there was only about one chance in a thousand that I would find you? And that if we ever get out of this, and your Uncle Appleton don't give you a darn good whaling, I _will_?” The man felt a small body press close against him in the darkness.
”Honest, Bill, I'm sorry,” a subdued voice answered. ”I thought Jack was fooling, and I _did_ want to show 'em I could kill something bigger than a rabbit. You aren't mad, are you, Bill? I hope Eth won't worry; we'll prob'ly have to stay here all night, won't we?”
”All night! Won't worry! Don't you know that this is a _regular_ blizzard--the kind that kills men at their own doors--and that it may last for a week? And here we are with no fire-wood, and nothing to eat!
The chances are mighty good that we'll never see camp again--and you pipe up and hope your sister won't worry!”
Charlie leaned over closer against Carmody's body.
”Why, we've _got_ to get back, Bill!” he said, and his voice was very earnest now. ”We're all Eth's got--you and me--and she _needs_ us.”
The boy felt a sudden tightening of the muscles beneath the heavy mackinaw, and the quick gasp of an indrawn breath. A big arm stole about his shoulders. The harshness was gone from Bill's voice, and when he spoke the sound fell softly upon the culprit's ears.
”Sure, kid, we'll get back. Buck up! We've got a fighting chance, and that's all we need--men like you and me. Life up here is a hard game, kid, but we're no quitters! This is just one of the rough places in the long, long trail.
”And, say, kid--just man to man--I want you always to remember _that_--she needs you--and some day she may need you _bad_. This St.
Ledger may be all right, but----”
”St. Ledger!” The voice of the boy cut sharply upon the darkness. ”Say, Bill, you aren't going to marry Blood River Jack's sister, are you?”
”What!”
”Why, Blood River Jack's sister, you know, that helped fish you out of the river.”
”Lord! _No!_ What ever put that into your head?”
”Blood River Jack told us when we were coming out about you--only we didn't know it was _you_, then. And he said that his sister was pretty, and she loved you, and she went down the river with you for three or four days, or something. And Eth thinks you love this half-breed girl.