CHAPTER XIX
BESIEGED BY THE STORM KING
Tom Cameron and his two friends were so busy setting up a target andthrowing iced snow-balls at it, that they barely noticed the firstbig flakes of the storm. But by and by these flakes passed and then awind of deadly chill swept down upon the camp and with it finepellets of snow--not larger than pin-points--but which blinded oneand hid all objects within ten feet.
"Come on!" roared Bob. "This is no fun. Let's beat it to the house."
"Oh, it can't last long this way," said Isadore Phelps. "Mygoodness! did you ever see it snow harder in your life?"
"That I never did," admitted Tom. "I wonder if the girls have comeback?"
"If they haven't," said Bob, "they'd better wait where they areuntil this flurry is over."
"I hope they have returned," muttered Tom, as they made their waytoward the rear of Snow Camp.
The snow came faster and faster, and thicker and thicker. Bob bumpedsquare into the side of one of the out-sheds, and roared because hefound blood flowing from his nose.
"What do you say about this?" he bellowed. "How do we know we'regoing right?"
"Here!" cried Isadore. "Where are you fellows? I don't want to getlost in the back yard."
Tom found him (he had already seized the half-blinded Bob by thearm) and the three, arm in arm, made their way cautiously to thekitchen porch. They burst in on Janey and Mary with a whoop.
"Have the girls got back?" cried Tom, eagerly.
"I couldn't tell ye, Master Tom," said Mary. "But if they haven'tcome in, by the looks of you boys, they'd better."
Tom did not stop to remove the snow, but rushed into the greatcentral hall which was used as a general sitting room.
"Where's Helen--and Ruth--and the rest of them?" he demanded.
"Why, Thomas! you're all over snow," said Mr. Cameron, comfortablyreading his paper before the fire, in smoking jacket and slippers.
"Is it snowing?" queried Mrs. Murchiston, from the warmest nookbeside the hearth. "Aren't the girls out with you, Tom?"
"What's the matter, my son?" demanded his father, getting upquickly. "What has happened?"
"I don't know that anything has happened," said Tom, swallowing abig lump in his throat, and trying to speak calmly. "The girls havenot been with us. They went into the woods somewhere to get stuff fortheir pillows. And it is snowing harder than I ever knew it to snowbefore."
"Oh, Tom!" gasped the governess.
"Come! we'll go out and see about this at once," cried his father,and began to get into his out-of-door clothing, including a pair ofgreat boots.
"Is it snowing very hard, Tom?" queried the lady, anxiously. "Whatmakes you look so?"
For Tom was scared--and he showed it. He turned short around withoutanswering Mrs. Murchiston again, and led the way to the kitchen. Theother boys had shaken off the snow and were hovering over the rangefor warmth.
"Found 'em all right; didn't you?" demanded Bob Steele.
"No. They haven't come in," said Tom, shortly, and immediately Bobbegan pulling on his coat again.
"Oh, pshaw!" said Isadore. "They'll be all right."
"Where are Jerry and the others?" Mr. Cameron asked the maids.
"Sure, sir," said Mary, who was peering wonderingly out of thewindow at the thick cloud of snow sweeping across the pane, "sure,sir, Jerry and the min went down in the swamp to draw up some back-logs.And it's my opinion they'd better be in out of this storm."
"I agree with you, Mary," returned Mr. Cameron, grimly, as he openedthe door and saw for the first time just what they had to face. "Butperhaps they'll pick up the girls on their way home. Trust thosewoodsmen for finding their way."
Tom and Bob followed him out of the house. They faced a wall offalling snow so thick that every object beyond arm's length from themwas blotted out.
"Merciful heavens!" groaned Mr. Cameron. "Your sister and the girlswill never find their way through this smother."
"Nor the men, either," said Tom, shortly.
"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Bob, "It can't snow like this for long; canit?"
"We have never seen a right good snowstorm in the woods," quoth Mr.Cameron. "From what the men tell me, this is likely to continue forhours. I am dreadfully worried about the girls--"
"What's that?" cried Tom, interrupting him.
A muffled shout sounded through the driving snow. In chorus Mr.Cameron and the two boys raised their own voices in an answering shout.
"They're coming!" cried Bob.
"It is Long Jerry Todd and the men--hear the harness rattling?"returned Tom, and he started down the steps in the direction of thestables.
"Wait! we'll keep together," commanded Mr. Cameron. "I hope theyhave brought the girls with them."
"Oh, but the girls didn't go toward the swamp," returned his son."They started due north."
"Shout again!" commanded Mr. Cameron, and the two parties keptshouting back and forth until they met not far beyond theoutbuildings belonging to the lodge. The great pair of draught horseswere ploughing through the drifts and the three men were whoopingloudly beside them.
"Dangerous work this, for you, sir," cried Long Jerry. "You'd allbetter remained indoors. It's come a whole lot quicker than Iexpected. We're in for a teaser, Mr. Cameron. Couldn't scarce makeout the path through the woods."
"Have you seen the girls, Jerry?" cried Tom Cameron.
"Bless us!" gasped the tall guide. "You don't mean that any of themgals is out of bounds?"
"All six of them went into the woods--toward the north--about twohours ago. They went on snowshoes," said Tom.
The three woodsmen said never a word, but standing there in thedriving snow, at the heads of the horses, they looked at each otherfor some moments.
"Well," said Jerry, at last, and without commenting further on Tom'sstatement; "we'd best put up the horses and then see what's to bedone."
"To the north, Tom?" said his father, brokenly. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir. I am sure of it."
"Is there any house in that direction--within reasonable distance,Jerry?" asked the gentleman.
"God bless us, sir!" gasped the guide. "I don't know of one betwixthere and the Canadian line. The wind is coming now from thenorthwest. If they are trying to get back to the camp they'll bedrifted towards the southeast and miss us altogether."
"Don't say that, Jerry!" gasped Tom. "We _must_ find them. Why,if this keeps up for an hour they'll be buried in the drifts."
"Pray heaven it hold's off soon," groaned his father.
The men could offer them no comfort. Being old woodsmen themselves,they knew pretty well what the storm foreboded. A veritable blizzardhad swept down from the Lakes and the whole country might be shroudedfor three or four days. Meanwhile, as long as the snow kept falling,it would be utterly reckless to make search for those lost in the snow.
Jerry and his mates said nothing more at the time, however. They allmade their way to the stables, kicked the drift away from the door,and got the horses into their stalls. They all went inside out of thestorm and closed the doors against the driving snow. In five minutes,when the animals were made secure and fed, and they tried to open thedoors again, the wind had heaped the snow to such a height againstthem that they could not get out.
Fortunately there was a small door at the other end of the barn, andby this they all got out and made their way speedily across theclearing to the house--Long Jerry leading the way. Tom and Bobrealized that they might easily have become lost in that shortdistance had they been left to their own resources.
Mr. Cameron was very pale and his lips trembled when he stood beforethe three woodsmen in the lodge kitchen.
"You mean that to try to seek for the girls now is impossible,Jerry?" he asked.
"What do you think about it yourself, sir?" returned the guide. "Youhave been out in it."
"I--I don't expect you to attempt what I cannot do myself--"
"If mortal man could live in it, we'd make the attemp
t without ye,sir," declared Long Jerry, warmly. "But neither dogs nor men couldfind their way in this smother It looks like it had set in for a bigblizzard. You don't know jest what that means up here in thebackwoods. Logging camps will be snowed under and mules, horses andoxen will have to be shot to save them from starvation. The huntingwill be mighty poor next fall, for the deer and other varmints willstarve to death, too.
"If poor people in the woods don't starve after this storm, it willbe lucky. Why, the last big one we had the Octohac Company had a gangof fifty men shoveling out a road for twenty miles so as to get toteteams through with provisions for their camp. And then men had todrag the tote teams instead of horses, the critters were so nearstarved. Ain't that so, Ben?"
"Surest thing you know," agreed one of the other hands. "I rememberthat time well. I was working for the Goodwin & Manse Company. Therewas nigh a hundred of us on snow-shoes that dragged fodder from thefarmers along Rolling River to feed our stock on, and we didn't getout enough logs that winter to pay the company for keeping the campopen."
"That's the way on it, Mr. Cameron," said Long Jerry. "We got to sitdown and wait for a hold-up. Nothing else to do. You kin trytelephoning up and down the line to see if the girls changed theirroute and got to any house."
But when Mr. Cameron tried to use the 'phone he found that alreadythere was a break somewhere on the line. He could get no reply.
They were besieged by the Storm King, and he proved to be a mostpitiless enemy. The drifting snow rose higher and higher about thelodge every hour. The day dragged on its weary length into night, andstill the wind blew and the snow sifted down, until even the toppanes of the first floor windows were buried beneath the white mantle.