Part 16 (1/2)

The cyclone was short and sharp. From the time it first struck the foothills until the time it spent itself in the distance was barely four minutes, yet, what an effect did it leave behind!

On all sides of them many trees were literally torn up by the roots, brush was leveled as if cut by a mowing machine, and dirt and pebbles which had been perhaps carried for miles were deposited here, there, and everywhere. Ranch boys though they were, and accustomed to many things strange and wonderful, Chet and Paul could only gaze at the work of destruction in awe, and silently thank heaven that their lives had been spared.

They had escaped with slight injury. Several sharp sticks and stones had scratched Chet's neck as he lay prostrate, and Paul's arm was greatly lamed by a blow from the branch of a tree which fell directly across the opening, pinning the horse down in such a fas.h.i.+on that he could not rise.

”We must liberate Rush first of all,” cried Chet. ”Poor fellow! Whoa, Rush, we'll soon help you,” he added, and patted the animal on the neck to soothe him.

Evidently Rush understood, for he lay quiet. Then Chet and Paul, using all of their strength, raised up one end of the tree, which, fortunately, was not large. As soon as he felt himself free, Rush scrambled up out of harm's way, and they let the tree fall back again.

”That is the kind of an adventure I never want to experience again,”

said Paul when he had somewhat recovered his breath. ”My, how the wind did tear things!”

”It was a full-fledged cyclone and no mistake,” returned his brother.

”Had that struck a town it would have razed every building in it.”

”That's true, and oh!” went on Paul suddenly, ”I wonder if it has destroyed the marks Allen left whereby the mine is to be found?”

Chet stared at him speechless.

”Perhaps!” he gasped at last. ”Come, let us go on and see!”

There was considerable difficulty in getting out of the hollow into which they had so unceremoniously thrust themselves. Rush was somewhat frightened still, and instead of riding him, they led him out by a circuitous way which took them nearly a hundred yards out of their path.

They found the trail almost impa.s.sable in spots, and more than once were compelled to make a wide detour in order to avoid fallen trees and gathered brush.

”A cyclone like that can do more damage than can be repaired in ten years,” observed Chet as they labored along on foot. ”I wonder where it started from?”

”Somewhere out on the flat lands near the river, I reckon,” returned Paul.

On they went around trees and rocks and brush, until the way grew so bad that both came to an involuntary halt.

”It looks as if the very trail had been swept away,” said Paul. ”I can't see anything of it ahead.”

”Nor I. Whoever would have thought of such a thing when we left home?”

”We can't go on in this direction, that's sure. What's best to be done?”

Both looked around for several minutes and then decided to cross a rocky stretch to the right. They had to do this with great care, as the road was full of sink holes and crevices, and they did not want to break a leg or have the horse injured.

The stretch crossed, they found themselves on a little hill. All about them could be seen the effects of the cyclone, not a tree or bush had escaped its ravages.

”It looks as if the landmarks Allen had mentioned had been swept away,”

said Paul, as he gazed around hopelessly. ”I can't see the first of them.”

”It would certainly seem so,” rejoined Chet. ”If they are, they won't be able to locate the mine again, excepting to sail down the underground river.”

”That is so--excepting Uncle Barnaby turns up with another and better way of locating it,” replied Paul very seriously.