CHAPTER X
AN AVALANCHE
"You don't think, chief," Harry asked, "that there is any chance of the'Rappahoes taking it into their heads to come up to have a look round?"
"Indians keep in lodges, no like cold; they think we have gone on overpass. If weather gets fine perhaps they come to look for our guns andpacks. They think sure we die in snow-storm when we up in pass. Whensnow stops falling, we make no more fire; but path from valley all shutup by snow now."
"Yes, I don't think anyone would try to climb it till the sun hascleared the track; it was a pretty bad place when we came up," Harrysaid. "I don't say that men on foot could not make their way up; but asyou say, the red-skins are not likely to try it until the weather hascleared a bit, though I don't say that they wouldn't if they knew wewere camped here close to the top."
"What noise is that?" Tom asked. "I have heard it several times before,but not so loud as that."
"Snow-slide," Leaping Horse said. "Snow come down from mountains; breakoff trees, roll rocks down. Bad place all along here."
"Yes. I saw that you looked up at the hills behind there before youlooked over the edge here, chief," Ben Gulston said, "and I reckonedthat you had snow-slides in your mind. I thought myself that it was likeenough the snow might come tumbling over the edge of that high wall andthen come scooting down over where we war, and there would have been nosort of show for us if we had been camped whar the trail goes along."
"Leaping Horse has heard from his red brothers with whom he has spokenthat trail from top of valley very bad when snow falls. Many Indiansstopping too long at fort, to trade goods, have been swept away bysnow-slides when caught in storm here."
"I thought it looked a bad place," Harry remarked. "There ain't nofooling with a snow-slide anyway. I have come across bones once or twicelying scattered about in snug-looking valleys--bones of horses and men,and it was easy to see they had been killed by a snow-slide coming downon them. Rocks were heaped about among them, some of the bones weresmashed. They had been hunting or trapping, and sheltered up in a valleywhen the storm came on and the slide had fallen on them, and there theyhad laid till the sun melted the snow in summer, when the coyotes andthe vultures would soon clean the bones." He broke off suddenly; therewas a dull sound, and at the same moment a distinct vibration of theground, then a rustling murmur mingled with a rumbling as of a waggonpassing over a rocky ground.
"There is another one," Jerry exclaimed, "and it is somewhere just aboveus. Keep your backs to the wall, boys."
"There Is Another Avalanche, Keep Your Backs To The Wall,Boys"]
Louder and louder grew the sound; the tremor of the earth increased, thehorses neighed with fright, the men stood with their backs against therock next to the hill. Suddenly the light was darkened as a vast mass ofsnow mingled with rocks of all sizes leapt like a torrent over the edgeof the cliff, the impetus carrying it over the outer wall of theirshelter and down into the ravine. There was a mighty sound of thecrashing of trees, mingled with a thumping and rolling of the rocks asthey clashed against the side of the ravine and went leaping down intothe valley. The ground shook with a continuous tremor, and then thelight returned as suddenly as it had been cut off, and a few secondslater a dead stillness succeeded the deafening roar from below. Thepassage of the avalanche overhead had lasted but a minute, though to themen standing below it the time had seemed vastly longer. Instinctivelythey had pressed themselves against the rock, almost holding theirbreath, and expecting momentarily that one of the boulders in itspassage would strike the top of the outside wall and fall in fragmentsamong them. The silence that followed was unbroken for some seconds, andthen Sam Hicks stepped a pace forward.
"Jee-rusalem!" he said, "that was a close call. I don't know how youfelt, boys, but it seemed as if all the sand had gone out of me, and Iweakened so that my knees have not done shaking yet."
The men, accustomed as they were to danger, were all equally affected.Tom felt relieved to see that the others all looked pale and shaken, forhe was conscious that he had been in a terrible fright, and that hislegs would scarcely support his weight.
"I am glad to hear you say so, Sam, for I was in an awful funk; but Ishould not have said so if you hadn't spoken."
"You needn't be ashamed of that, Tom," his uncle put in. "You showedplenty of pluck when we were in trouble with the red-skins, but I amsure there was not one of us that did not weaken when that snow-slideshot over us; and none of us need be ashamed to say so. A man with goodgrit will brace up, keep his head cool and his fingers steady on thetrigger to the last, though he knows that he has come to the end of hisjourney and has got to go down; but it is when there is nothing to do,no fight to be made, when you are as helpless as a child and have nosort of show, that the grit runs out of your boots. I have foughtred-skins and Mexicans a score of times; I have been in a dozen shootingscrapes in saloons at the diggings; but I don't know that I ever felt soscared as I did just now. Ben, there is a jar of whisky in our outfit;we agreed we would not touch it unless one of us got hurt or ill, but Ithink a drop of medicine all round now wouldn't be out of place."
There was a general assent. "But before we take it," he went on, "wewill take off our hats and say 'Thank God' for having taken us safethrough this thing. If He had put this shelter here for us express, Hecould not have planted it better for us, and the least we can do is tothank Him for having pulled us through it safe."
The men all took off their hats, and stood silent for a minute or twowith bent heads. When they had replaced their hats Ben Gulston went tothe corner where the pack-saddles and packs were piled, took out a smallkeg, and poured out some whisky for each of the white men. The othersdrank it straight; Tom mixed some water with his, and felt a good dealbetter after drinking it. Ben did not offer it to the Indians, neitherof whom would touch spirits on any occasion.
"It is a good friend and a bad enemy," Harry said as he tossed off hisportion. "As a rule there ain't no doubt that one is better without it;but there is no better medicine to carry about with you. I have seenmany a life saved by a bottle of whisky. Taken after the bite of arattlesnake, it is as good a thing as there is. In case of fever, andwhen a man is just tired out after a twenty-four hours' tramp, a drop ofit will put new life into him for a bit. But I don't say as it hasn'tkilled a sight more than it has cured. It is at the bottom of prettynigh every shooting scrape in the camps, and has been the ruin ofhundreds of good men who would have done well if they could but havekept from it."
"But you ain't a temperance man yourself, Harry?"
"No, Sam; but then, thank God, I am master of the liquor, and not theliquor of me. I can take a glass, or perhaps two, without wanting more.Though I have made a fool of myself in many ways since I have come outhere, no man can say he ever saw me drunk; if liquor were to get thebetter of me once, I would swear off for the rest of my life. Don't youever take to it, Tom; that is, not to get so as to like to go ondrinking it. In our life we often have to go for months without it, anda man has got to be very careful when he goes down to the settlements,else it would be sure to get over him."
"I don't care for it at all, uncle."
"See you don't get to care for it, Tom. There are plenty start as youdo, and before they have been out here long they do get to like it, andfrom that day they are never any good. It is a big temptation. A man hasbeen hunting or trapping, or fossicking for gold in the hills formonths, and he comes down to a fort or town and he meets a lot of mates.One says 'Have a drink?' and another asks you, and it is mighty hard tobe always saying 'no'; and there ain't much to do in these places but todrink or to gamble. A man here ain't so much to be blamed as folks wholive in comfortable houses, and have got wives and families and decentplaces of amusement, and books and all that sort of thing, if they taketo drink or gambling. I have not any right to preach, for if I don'tdrink I do gamble; that is, I have done; though I swore off that when Igot the letter telling me that your father had gone. Then I thought whata fool I had made of my
self for years. Why, if I had kept all the gold Ihad dug I could go home now and live comfortably for the rest of mylife, and have a home for my nieces, as I ought to have. However, I havedone with it now. And I am mighty glad it was the cards and not drinkthat took my dust, for it is a great deal easier to give up cards thanit is to give up liquor when you have once taken to it. Now let us talkof something else; I vote we take a turn up on to the trail, and seewhat the snow-slide has done."
Throwing the buffalo robes round their shoulders the party went outside.The air was too thick with snow to enable them to perceive from theplatform the destruction it had wrought in the valley below, but uponascending the path to the level above, the track of the avalanche wasplainly marked indeed. For the width of a hundred yards, the whitemantle of snow, that covered the slope up to the point where the wall ofcliff rose abruptly, had been cleared away as if with a mighty broom.Every rock and boulder lying upon it had been swept off, and the surfaceof the bare rock lay flat, and unbroken by even a tuft of grass. Theywalked along the edge until they looked down upon their shelter. Thebear's hide was still in its place, sloping like a pent-house roof, fromits upper side two or three inches below the edge of the rock, to theother wall three feet lower. It was, however, stripped of its hair, ascleanly as if it had been shorn off with a razor, by the friction of thesnow that had shot down along it.
"That is the blamedest odd thing I ever saw," Sam Hicks said. "I wonderthe weight of the snow didn't break it in."
"I expect it just shot over it, Sam," Harry said. "It must have beentravelling so mighty fast that the whole mass jumped across, only justrubbing the skin. Of course the boulders and stones must have gone cleanover. That shows what a narrow escape we have had; for if that outerrock had been a foot or so higher, the skin would have caved in, and ourplace would have been filled chock up with snow in a moment. Waal, wemay as well turn in again, for I feel cold to the bones already."
On the evening of the fifth day the snow ceased falling, and nextmorning the sky was clear and bright. Preparations were at once made fora start. A batch of bread had been baked on the previous evening. Somebuckets of hot gruel were given to the horses, a meal was hastily eaten,the horses saddled and the packs arranged, and before the sun had beenup half an hour they were on their way. The usual stillness of themountains was broken by a variety of sounds. From the valley at theirfeet came up sharp reports, as a limb of a tree, or sometimes the treeitself, broke beneath the weight of the snow. A dull rumbling sound,echoing from hill to hill, told of the falls of avalanches. Scarcely hadthe echoes of one ceased, than they began again in a fresh quarter. Thejourney was toilsome in the extreme, for the horses' hoofs sank deep inthe freshly-fallen snow, rendering their progress exceedingly slow.
"If we had been sure that this weather would hold, chief, it would havebeen better to have waited a few days before making our start, for bythat time the snow would have been hard enough to travel on."
The chief shook his head. "Winter coming for good," he said, waving hishand towards the range of snowy summits to the north. "Clouds therestill; if stop, not able to cross pass till next summer."
"That is so; we agreed as to that yesterday, and that if we don't getover now the chances are we shall never get over at all. Yet, it is apity we can't wait a few days for a crust to form on the snow."
Twice in the course of the next hour avalanches came down from the hillsabove them; the first sweeping down into the valley a quarter of a milebehind them, the next but two or three hundred yards ahead of them.Scarcely a word was spoken from end to end of the line. They travelledin Indian file, and each horse stepped in the footprints of itspredecessor. Every few hundred yards they changed places, for the labourof the first horse was very much heavier than of those following. At theend of an hour the men drew together for a consultation. There was awide break in the line of cliffs, and a valley ran nearly due south.
"What do you think, chief? This confounded snow has covered up all signsof the trail, and we have got to find our own way. There is no doubtthis valley below is running a deal too much to the west, and that thetrail must strike off somewhere south. It looks to me as if that were alikely valley through the cliff. There is no hiding the fact that if wetake the wrong turn we are all gone coons."
"Leaping Horse knows no more than his brother," the chief said gravely."He knows the pass is on the western side of the great peak. The greatpeak lies there," and he pointed a little to the west of the break inthe hills up which they were looking.
"It may be that we must cross the hills into another valley, or perhapsthis will turn west presently."
"I tell you what, Harry," Sam Hicks said, "my opinion is, that our bestplan by a long chalk will be to go back to our last place and to stopthere for a bit. We have got b'ar's flesh enough for another fortnight,and we may kill some more game afore that is done. Ef this is but aspell of snow it may melt enough in another ten days for us to make outthe trail and follow it. Ef, as the chief thinks, we have got winterright down on us, we must wait till the snow crust hardens ef it is amonth or double. Anything is better than going on like this. What withthis soft snow and these 'tarnal snow-slides, there ain't no more chanceof our getting over that pass in one day's journey, than there air inour flying right down to Salt Lake City. Ef the worst comes to theworst, I tell yer I would rather go back and take our chance offollowing the Big Wind River down, and fighting the red-skins, than Iwould of crossing over these dog-goned hills."
The other three men were of the same opinion.
"Well, what do you say, chief?" Harry asked the Indian.
"Leaping Horse thinks that the trail will not be found until nextsummer," the chief replied quietly. "Heap of hills in front and heap ofsnow. If snow-storm catch us in the hills no find way anywhere. LeapingHorse is ready to do whatever his white brother thinks."
"Well, I am with the others," Harry said. "I don't like the look ofthose clouds. They are quiet enough now, but they may begin to shift anytime, and, as you say, if we are caught in a snow-storm on the hillsthere is an end of us. I think Sam is right. Even if we have to rustleall through the winter in that hut there, I would rather face it thankeep on."
That settled it. The horses' heads were turned, and they retraced theirsteps until they reached the shelter. The bear's-skin had been leftwhere it was, the fire was soon set going, and there was a generalfeeling of satisfaction as they laid out the robes and blankets again.
"Look here, boys," Harry said, "this is not going to be a holiday time,you bet. We have got to make this place a sight snugger than it is now,for, I tell you, when the winter sets in in earnest, it will be coldenough here to freeze a buffalo solid in an hour. We have got to set towork to make a roof all over this place, and we have got to hunt to layin a big stock of meat. We have got to get a big store of food for thehorses, for we must be mighty careful with our flour now. We can wait afortnight to see how things go, but if it is clear then that we have gotto fight it out here through the winter, we must shoot the pack-poniesat once, and I reckon the others will all have to go later. However, wewill give them a chance as long as we can."
"Take them down into the valley," the chief said. "All Indian horses."
"Ah, I didn't think of that, chief. Yes, they are accustomed to rustlefor their living, and they may make a shift to hold on down there. Idon't think there is much fear of Indians coming up."
"No Indians," Leaping Horse said. "Indians go away when winter set in.Some go to forest, some go to lodges right down valley. No stop up herein mountains. When winter comes plenty game--big-horn, wapiti."
"Ah, that is a more cheerful look-out, chief. If we can get plenty ofmeat we can manage without flour, and can go down and give the ponies apail of hot gruel once a week, which will help them to keep lifetogether. The first thing, I take it, is to cut some poles for the roof.I am afraid we shall have to go down to the bottom for them."
"Waal, we needn't begin that till to-morrow," Sam Hicks said. "If we hadthem, we have
got no skins to cover them."
"Cut brushwood," Indian said. "First put plenty of brushwood on poles,then put skins over."
"Yes, that is the plan, chief. Well, if we get down there we shall haveto take our shovels and clear the snow off some of the narrow ledges. Ifwe do that we can lead one of the horses down to pack the poles uphere."
The chief went out on to the platform. "No use clear snow now. Cloudsmoving. In two hours snow fall again."
The others joined him outside. "I reckon you are right, chief," Jerrysaid. "It is mighty lucky we didn't go on. It can't be much worse herethan it was before."
At three in the afternoon it began to snow heavily again. There was lesswind than there had been on the previous occasion, and the snow driftedthrough the entrance less than before. Just as they were turning in forthe night an ominous crack was heard above. All leapt from theirblankets, and looking up they could see by the light of the fire thatthe poles supporting the skin were all bent in a curve downwards.
"Jee-rusalem!" Sam Hicks exclaimed, "the whole outfit will be comingdown on us."
"That it will, Sam. You see, there is no wind as there was before, andone of our jobs will be keeping the roof clear of snow. Turn out, boys;we must get rid of it somehow."
They at once set to work to lash two poles, some eight feet long, to thehandles of the shovels, and as soon as this was done they all turnedout. On reaching the edge of the ravine above the roof, they firstcleared away the snow down to the rock so as to have firm standing, andthen proceeded to shovel the snow off the surface of the skin. It waseasier work than they expected, for as soon as it was touched it sliddown the incline, and in a very few minutes the whole was cleared off.
"I think that is good until morning now," Harry said. "As long as thesnow lasts we shall have to do it every few hours. Directly we get aspell of fine weather we must put some more poles under it to strengthenit."
For six days the snow continued to fall without intermission. Atdaybreak, at mid-day, and the last thing before they turned in at nightthe snow was cleared off the hide. With this exception they did not stirout of the shelter. They had also each day to clear out the innerportion of the fissure, as the snow now frequently broke through thetrees in masses, startling the horses, and keeping them in a state ofrestlessness. The sixth day it stopped snowing, and the next morning thesky was bright and clear. The whole party at once started out, two ofthem taking shovels, and the rest brooms that they had made during thelong hours of their confinement. By the middle of the day they hadcleared the path down into the valley, and on their way back to dinnereach carried up a large bundle of faggots.
The meal was cooked and eaten hastily, and the whole of the horses werethen led down into the valley. Here a couple of dozen stout poles forthe roof were cut by the whites, the two Indians at once going up thevalley in search of game. In half an hour two rifle-shots were heard,and presently Hunting Dog ran in with the news that they had killed twowapiti. Jerry and Sam Hicks at once went off with him, leading twohorses, and presently returned with the dead deer fastened across theirbacks.
"They are very like pictures I have seen of moose," Tom said to hisuncle as he examined the great stags.
"New-comers often call them moose, Tom; but there is a differencebetween them, though what the difference is I cannot tell you, for Ihave never hunted moose. I believe the wapiti are peculiar to the West.They often go in great herds of three or four hundreds together."
"The chief says there are a great many of them up the valley," Jerry putin. "They made off when he fired, but I could see their foot-tracksmyself all about. He says they have been driven down here by the stormfor shelter. He has gone round with the lad to head them back."
"That is good news, Jerry. The meat we have got already will last sometime, but it is as well to lay in a good stock, and we want the skinsbadly to make our roof. You had better lead these horses to the foot ofthe path, and then we will all take our post behind trees across thevalley."
An hour later they heard the reports of two rifles a long way up thevalley, and all stood in readiness. A few minutes later there was a dulltrampling sound, and almost directly afterwards a herd of wapiti camealong at a heavy trot, ploughing their way but slowly through the snow.
"Don't use your revolvers, boys," Harry had said, "except to finish offa stag you have wounded with your rifle. The chance is all against yourbringing them down, and the poor brutes would only get away to die."
One after another the rifles rang out. Tom and his uncle both had thesatisfaction of seeing the stags they had aimed at, plunge forwardbefore they had gone many yards farther, and roll over dead. The otherthree had each hit the animal they aimed at, but as these kept on theircourse they dashed out in pursuit, firing their Colts, which in theirhands were as deadly weapons as a rifle, and the three stags all fell,although one got nearly half a mile down the valley before he succumbed.A carcass was hoisted on to each of the horses' backs, and the loadedanimals were then led up the track.
"Shall I wait until the Indians come back, uncle, and tell them why youhave gone up?"
"There is no occasion for that, Tom; they would hear the shots, and willhave guessed what has happened."
The poles were divided among the men and carried up to the top of thepath, and laid down just above the shelter. Harry and Sam Hicks at onceproceeded to cut them up into proper lengths, while the others skinnedand cut up the deer. A number of thongs were cut from one of the hidesfor lashing cross-poles across those that were to act as ridge-poles.The bear's-skin was removed and additional poles placed at that spot,and all working together the framework of the roof was completed bynightfall. The Indians had returned soon after the party began theirwork, and taking their horses down fetched up the deer they had killed.
In the morning the roof was completed, hides being stretched over theframework and securely lashed to it with thongs. The whole of the treesand brushwood were then chopped down close to the ground so as to leavea level floor. The foliage was given to the horses, and the wood cut upand piled for fuel. The chief reported that at the upper end of thevalley there was a thick pine-wood, which would give good shelter to thehorses. Near it were plenty of bushes, and a level tract which had beena beaver meadow, and was thickly covered with grass, as he could seewhere the wapiti had scratched away the snow to get at it. This wasexcellent news, for the question of how the horses could be fed throughthe winter had troubled them much more than that of their ownmaintenance. The joints of venison were hung up on a pole outside whatthey now called their hut, one or two hams being suspended from therafters over the fire, to be smoked.
"We shall have to rig up a b'ar-trap outside," Ben said, "or we shall behaving them here after the meat; and a b'ar's ham now and then will makea change. Wapiti flesh ain't bad, but we should get dog-goned tired ofit arter a bit."
"You may bet we shall, Ben," Jerry agreed; "but I reckon that we shallbe able to get a lot of game through the winter. That valley down thereis just the place for them to shelter in, and I hope we shall get abig-horn now and then. It will be a difficult thing to make a b'ar-trapoutside. A grizzly wants a pretty strong pen to keep him in, and thoughthe horses might drag up some big beams from below, there ain't nofastening them in this rock."
"No; I don't think we can make that sort of trap," Harry said. "We mustcontrive something else. We need not do all our work at once; we havegot plenty of time before us. We want three or four more skins to finishour hut."
"You mean to fill up the entrance?"
"Yes; we will sew them together, and make a curtain to hang from theedge of the roof to the ground. I tell you it is going to be mighty coldhere, and besides, it will keep the snow from drifting in."
"I wish to goodness we could make a chimney," Tom said. "The smoke wentup through the leaves all right, but my eyes are watering now, and ifyou fill up the end with skins it will be something awful."
"You will get accustomed to it, Tom; but, of course, we must make a holeat the top
when we fill up the entrance. What do you think is the nextthing to be done, chief?"
"Get wood," the chief said emphatically. "Must fill all the end of hutwith wood."
"That will be a big job, chief, but there is no doubt we must lay in agreat store of it. Well, there is plenty of timber down in the valley,and with ten horses we can bring up a tidy lot every day."
"Let us cut quick before snow comes again."
"We will begin to-morrow morning, chief. I agree with you, the soonerthe better."
Accordingly the next morning they went down to the valley. They had buttwo axes, and Jerry and Sam Hicks, who had both done a good deal ofwood-cutting, undertook this portion of the work. The others took thehorses up to the beaver meadow, where they at once began scraping at thesnow, and were soon munching away at the rich grass.
"Why do you call it a beaver meadow, uncle? I don't see any beavers."
"They have gone long ago, perhaps a hundred years. As we know, thisvalley is occupied by the Indians in summer, and they would soon clearout the beavers. But it is called a beaver meadow because it was made bythem. They set to work and dammed up the stream, and gradually all thisflat became a lake. Well, in time, you know, leaves from the woodsabove, and soil and dead wood and other things brought down by thestream, gradually filled up the bottom. Then the beavers were killed,and their dams went to ruin and the water drained off, and in a shorttime grass began to grow. There are hundreds, ay, and thousands ofbeaver meadows among the hills, and on the little streams that run intothe big rivers, and nowhere is the grass so rich. You will often see anIndian village by one of these meadows. They grow their roots and planttheir corn there. The horses will do first-rate here through the winterif the snow don't get too deep for them, and, anyhow, we can help themout with a bucket of gruel occasionally."
"It will be awfully cold for them, though."
"It will be coldish, no doubt, but Indian ponies are accustomed to it."
"I should think, uncle, it would not take much trouble to make them asort of shed up among the trees there."
Sam laughed, and even the chief smiled.
"It would not be a bad plan, Tom," his uncle said; "not so much for thesake of the warmth, though there is no doubt that the warmer they arethe less they can do with to eat, but if they have a place to go to theyare less likely to wander away, and we shall not have the trouble ofhunting for them. Well, we will think it over."
Following the valley up, they found that it extended some ten milesfarther, for the last two of which it was but a narrow canyon a few yardswide. They shot a black bear and four small deer, and returned carryingthe skins, the hind-quarters of the deer, and the bear's hams.
"We seem to have got meat enough for anything," Tom remonstrated whenthey shot the deer.
"Seven men will get through a lot of meat, Tom, when they have nothingelse to go with it; and we may be weeks before we can put our heads outof our hut. Besides, the skins will be useful. We shall want deer-skinshirts, trousers, and socks and caps; and the skin of these deer issofter and more pliable than that of the wapiti. I don't want to killmore than I can help, lad, for I hate taking life without there is anecessity for it, but we can do with a lot more skins before we arestocked."
When, driving the horses before them, they returned to the woodcutters,they found they had cut down and chopped into logs a number of trees;and Tom was quite astonished at the great pile of firewood that had beengot ready by them in the course of a day's work. The logs were made upinto bundles, each weighing about eighty pounds. These were tiedtogether with the horses' lariats, and then secured, one on each side ofthe saddle, two of the horses carrying the meat. Harry took the bridleof his horse and started up the path, the others following at once.
"That is a good day's work," Harry said as the logs were piled at theinner end of the hut. "That is about half a ton of wood. If we have buta week of open weather we shall have a good store in our cellar."
The work continued steadily for a week. The horses were each day takento feed at the meadow, the two wood-choppers continued their work, whilethe rest of the party hunted. The Indians had on the second day gonedown the valley, and returned with the report that the Indian lodges hadall disappeared and that the valley was entirely deserted. Eight morewapiti were killed during the week, and fourteen smaller deer. Of anevening they occupied themselves in sewing the skins together withthongs of leather, the holes being made with their knives; and a curtainat the mouth of the hut was completed and hung. Four wide slabs of woodhad been cut. These had been bound together with thongs so as to form asort of chimney four feet high, and with a good deal of difficulty thiswas secured by props in its position over a hole cut through the skins,above the fire.
"The first avalanche will carry it away, Tom."
"Yes, uncle; but we have had one avalanche here, and it seems to me thechances are strongly against our having another in exactly the sameplace."
The skins of the smaller deer were carefully scraped with knives on theinner side, smeared with bears' fat, and then rubbed and kneaded untilthey were perfectly soft.