CHAPTER XVI The Quarry Shed
Barry and Kent stood in the storm-tossed woods and gazed with sinkinghearts at the ledge of rock before them. It told them in unmistakableterms that they were lost and, as Barry had truly said, at a veryserious time. After all of their recent pushing on, they were right backat the place where they had been a short time before.
"I wonder how we came to go around like that?" Kent asked, as he brushedsnow from the front of his coat and tried to see around him.
"Easy to do in a blinding storm like this one," Barry replied. "Well,we're into it for fair. Shall we try it again, or turn back to FoxPoint?"
"I don't want to turn back," Kent protested. "Mac and Tim will be badlyworried, and I'd like to make it through, if we possibly can. Which waydo you think we ought to go?"
"I thought we were going right, and yet we came around in a circle.Trouble is, it is getting so confounded dark. Want to try going onagain?"
"Yes, and we'll go more west than we have been going. We can't standhere and freeze."
They started forward once more, striking out in a new direction whichseemed to both of them to be the right way. The wind was searching andthey lowered their heads, both to keep their faces out of the cuttingblast and to shelter their eyes from the driving snow. The sled,dragging along back of them, made slow progress through the mountingsnow, and it caught frequently on the snags and bushes. From time totime they changed and took turns pulling it, but after a time Barryhalted and came close to his chum, whom he could scarcely see in thegloom.
"I think we ought to leave the sled," he shouted.
Kent nodded, knocking snow off of his collar. "I have been thinkingthat, too," he returned. "We can't make any progress with it."
"We'll put it somewhere near a landmark, so that we will be able to findit again," Barry proposed, trying to look around. "After the storm wecan come back and locate it."
"If we ever do come back alive," said Kent.
Barry slapped him on the back. "We'll come back, all right. We're onlytemporarily bewildered in a snowstorm. Let's find a place to leave thesled."
Kent took his flashlight off the hook on his belt and flashed it around.The light of it revealed falling flakes and an ever-increasing depth ofsnow on the ground. Advancing a few yards, they came to a tall shaft ofrock and earth that formed a shelter from the driving power of the NewEngland storm. It was with relief that they got out of the direct pathof the wind.
"Here is as good a place as any," Barry proclaimed, pulling the sled inclose to the foot of the small bluff. "We may have a hard time findingthe spot, but at least we know the sled will be under an overhang ofdirt and stone. This wouldn't be a bad place in which to spend thenight, if we had to."
"I hate the thought of staying out in this cold all night," Kent shookhis head.
"So do I. Seems like my skin is pinched hard. I wonder if we can't starta fire going here and eat something?"
Kent again flashed the light around. "It will be a hard job, but it willbe worth trying. I think we can get some dry wood out of that log overthere. As long as we have the sled with us, we ought to use the food onit."
"You're right. We haven't anything to make coffee in, and about the onlyfood we can eat is the steak we bought. We can spear that on a stick andcook it. Let's try it."
Almost feeling their way, they began to chop into the wet log with thecamp axes which they carried at their belts. The top wood was soft andpulpy, and even that which they hacked out of the heart of the log wasnot very dry. After the most tiresome efforts they succeeded in gettinga pile of questionable wood together, and then came the task of settingit afire. Both of them huddled close to the pile and jealously guardedthe tiny flame of the matches as they attempted to ignite the sticks andbits of wood. Six matches were soon wasted.
"This looks hopeless," Barry sighed. "Even the good store paper won'tlight."
Kent jumped up. "What dummies we are! This storm has us buffaloed! Wehave two long containers of kerosene oil on the sled!"
"Oh, good night!" exclaimed Barry, in disgust. "Of course we have! Dousethis wood with it and then we won't have any trouble starting our fire."
Unscrewing the top of a container, Kent poured some of the oil on themassed-up wood and then replaced the oil can on the sled. This time theyhad no difficulty, and when the match flame touched the oil-soaked wood,the fire ran rapidly from chip to chip until all were blazing. The coldand hungry boys stooped low and held out grateful hands to the flame.
"Doesn't a fire feel good?" Kent exulted.
"Doesn't it?" his companion echoed. He straightened up and began tosearch under the sled canvas for the steak which they had purchased atFox Point. "We'll have to get at our cooking right away, because whenthe oil burns off, this wood is going to be poor material, especiallywhen we add more to it."
"You're right about that," Kent acknowledged. "I'll cut a couple ofsharp sticks to cook the steak on." He took out his hunting knife andhacked at some bushes that showed dimly in the shadows from the fire.Before long he had procured two fine shafts, and then he proceeded tosharpen a point on each one. In the meantime Barry cut the steak in twoand then cut it again.
"Maybe some of those things on the sled ought to go with us when weleave here," he observed, as he thrust the pointed stick through thesteak. "We don't know how long we may be on the march, and we'll wantfood with us."
"Too bad we haven't got a knapsack along," Kent declared.
"It is, but we have some good pockets that will take a few things. Oncethis storm clears, we'll be able to see something. Unfortunately, wedon't know when it will let up."
They became silent, holding the portions of steak over the blaze, andsoon the meat was browning and the juice dripping into the fire. AsBarry had said, the quality of the blaze soon became poor, and whenfresh fuel was added it was uncertain and smoky. But they managed to eattheir steak, and it went a long way toward giving them a better feeling.
"I missed salt and bread with it," Kent smiled, as they finished thesteak. "But it certainly was good all by itself. Well, what shall wedo?"
"I believe that we ought to go on. This fire doesn't amount to anything,and there is no use hanging around here all night. We don't want to useup our oil on the fire, and we would have to work all night to cut woodfor it."
"Then let's tie the canvas down tight over the sled and cover it up withsome branches so that no wandering animal can get into it," Kentproposed, and they spent some time in doing this. When this task hadbeen attended to, they set out once more, heading into the dashingflakes once more.
"The twins will be badly worried," Barry said, as they stumbled along,making better time now that they were no longer held back by the burdenof the sled.
"Yes, they will. I hope they won't come out and try to find us."
"I doubt that they will. They can see how bad the storm is and that theywould be lost in no time at all. Boy, that flashlight of yours is alife-saver!"
There was no question that the flashlight was tremendously valuable.Kent used it sparingly and turned it on only at intervals, but it guidedthem on their journey. They kept on going and at last were ready to giveup in despair, as they had passed no home and even the country did notlook familiar to them. At last Barry halted and looked around.
"Flash your light up," he directed. "Where are we?"
Kent played the light around him, and they saw that they were in an oldquarry. The rock walls gleamed in the faint light of the flash.
"A quarry!" Barry cried.
Kent played the light down toward the ground, and they saw a small shed."There is shelter, if we need it," he began. At that moment theflashlight slipped out of his hand and fell into the snow. "Doggone it,"he grumbled. "I dropped the light."
Both of them stooped to search for it and then paused as they heard asound near them. Someone was approaching, and they felt a great reliefas they realized it. Neither of them spoke, and a mome
nt later a lightflashed out, evidently from a flashlight. The beam rested on the shed,and the boys waited to see the face or form of the one who held it. Butthey were destined to be disappointed. A hand came into the center oflight and turned the knob on the shed door. The hand was sheltered in ablack glove, and that was all that they saw of the person who opened thedoor of the quarry shed. The light was instantly extinguished and thedoor slammed shut. They heard a key turn in the lock.
"Wonder who that was?" Kent asked. He had found the flashlight, and theyboth stood up and tried to see things more clearly.
"I don't know. Funny he didn't hear us or see our light."
"The wind is too loud for him to have heard us. Seems as though heshould have seen our light. Going to ask for some help?"
"Of course. We don't know our way, and we need to have someone tell us.We'll knock on the door."
Approaching the small quarry shed, Barry knocked on the door, and theywaited. The wind still blew strongly, and the flakes drifted down intothe abandoned quarry. No answer came to their summons, and Barry triedagain. They listened with growing impatience.
"It's a wonder he wouldn't open the door or at least call out," Kentgrowled.
Barry took Kent's flashlight and flashed the beam around. The shed wasbacked up against a dirt section of the quarry wall, and the windowswere boarded up. It was impossible to look into the little shelter. Hewalked around on the far side and found that conditions there were thesame. Then they once more stood before the door and listened.
Barry kicked the door. "Is anybody here?" he shouted. "We're two boysthat have lost our way, and we want to ask directions."
The only answer was a profound stillness from the inside of the quarryshed. The boys looked at each other, and angry thoughts leaped intotheir minds. They had been adrift in the cold and storm so long thatthis lack of common humanity on the part of the man whom they had seenenter the shed aroused them.
"He's hiding in there and won't answer," Kent cried. "We ought to kickthe door in!"
"I'd like to know what he's hiding for," Barry said. "He must have somereason for not wanting to talk to us."