CHAPTER XVI.
ON THE WRONG TRAIL.
One of the turkeys was finished even to the neck piece, and then bothTom and Sam declared that they were so sleepy they could scarcely keeptheir eyes open.
"It must be the mountain air," said Dick. "I'm sleepy, too. Let us turnin."
"Will anybody have to stand watch?" asked Sam.
At this John Barrow shook his head. "Don't know as it's necessary," hesaid. "Reckon we're safe enough. I'll keep my gun handy, in case anyanimal prowls around."
The boys laid down and were soon in the land of dreams. Tom and Samslept near the back wall, with Dick next, and the guide near theopening, which, however, was now completely closed by the blanket. Thefire was allowed to die down, for they did not dare to build it up, withsuch a wind blowing.
Nothing came to disturb them. Once during the night Dick roused up andheard the distant howling of a wolf. But the beast did not ventureclose to the shelter, and while waiting for its appearance the youthdropped asleep again.
By midnight the wind fell a little, and then it began to snow, and itwas still snowing when John Barrow leaped up, pushed the blanket aside,and gazed out upon the river.
"Hullo, we're in for it now!" he cried, and as the boys sat up, headded: "Snowin'--mighty hard, too."
"I should say it was snowing hard!" cried Tom, as he, too, looked out."Why, you can't see the trees on the other side, and they aren't morethan a hundred and fifty feet off."
"This will make traveling bad," said Dick soberly. "It almost looks asif we were going to be snowed in."
"Snowed in?" echoed Sam. "Oh, don't say that!"
The boys were somewhat stiff after their long skate of the day before,and it took them some minutes to pull themselves together. Then thecurtain was pushed aside, and the fire started up with some drybrushwood from the pile on which they had slept. Soon breakfast wasready, and this warmed them up and put new life in them.
"No use to linger here," announced the guide. "It won't git no betteran' it may git a heap sight worse. I reckon the wind kept some o' thespots on the river clear. I know a good camping spot ten miles fromhere, and that will be just the place for us while you are huntin'around fer that money."
"Then let us make that camping spot by all means," said Tom. "We mustn'tlet Baxter get first whack at the treasure."
It was eight o'clock when they started once more on their journey. Theair was dull and heavy, and the snow came down in thick flakes, whichpresently shut out the landscape on all sides. Fortunately the wind haddied down entirely, so it was not near so cold as it had been.
"It would be easy enough, if we could stick to the river all the way,"remarked. Tom to Sam, as they skated along as best they could.
"Can't we?"
"Mr. Barrow says not. About two miles from here are another falls and aset of rocky rapids, and we'll have to walk around for a distance ofnearly a mile through the woods."
What Tom said was true, and the falls were reached less than an hourlater. The river was very narrow at this point and lined on both sideswith rough rocks. Climbing was difficult, and after crawling along for afew rods the boys halted in dismay.
"We're up against it now," groaned Dick
"Don't be discouraged lads!" came from the guide. "It isn't so bad ashort distance further on. Follow me." And he started again, and therewas nothing to do but to fall in behind him.
John Barrow and Dick carried one sled, and Tom and Sam, the other. Insome places the cedars and brush were so thick that those in advancepushed through only with extreme difficulty.
"Well, we haven't got the task of breaking the way," said Tom, as he andSam stopped to get their wind. "It's no fool job to break through thisthicket."
"We are going up a hill," returned Sam. "We must be getting away fromthe river."
The guide and Dick had disappeared ahead, and, fearful of losing them,the younger Rovers set off once more. Carrying the heavy sled up thehill was, however, a great task, especially for Sam, and once at the topthey had to rest again.
"I believe it would have been just as easy to have kept to the river,"declared Tom "See, there it is, to our left."
"It certainly doesn't look very rough down there," was his brother'scomment. "Gracious, but Dick and Mr. Barrow plow along like steamengines!" he added. "I can't go so fast."
"We won't hurry, there is no need. The trail is plain enough," said Tom,and so they rested fully quarter of an hour. Then they heard Dickcalling to them from a long distance ahead.
"All right; we're coming!" Tom called back. "Just please don't go soawfully fast!"
"We are going to take the trail to the left!" Dick shouted back, but theothers did not catch the words.
Tom and Sam advanced now slower than ever, and when they reached a spotwhere there was an opening to the right and another to the left, theothers were not only out of sight, but out of hearing as well. It hadnow begun to snow more thickly than ever.
"Which way did they take?" questioned Sam, in perplexity.
"Reckon they went this way, Sam."
"It looks to me as if they went the other way. Here are somefootprints."
"Here are some footprints, too."
They came to a standstill, more perplexed than ever. Sure enough, therewere two sets of footprints, running almost at right angles to eachother.
"I guess we've hit somebody else's trail," said Sam. "Dick! Mr. Barrow!Where are you?" he called out.
No answer came back, and then the two boys shouted in chorus. Allremained as silent as before.
"Well, this is a mess, to say the least," was Tom's comment. "How arewe to know which trail to follow?"
"I move we make a sure thing of it and get down to the river again," wasSam's answer. "Then we'll be certain to be on the right track. As soonas they reach the river they'll wait for us."
This seemed sensible advice, and leaving both trails the boys plungedthrough the cedar brakes to where they had seen the icy surface of thestream. They had to make several turns, and once Tom lost his footingand rolled over and over in the snow. But at last they gained the smoothice, and then each breathed a long sigh of relief.
"It's ten times better than climbing around," observed Sam. "The rapidsand rocks amount to next to nothing. I don't see why Mr. Barrow gave usall that extra climbing."
"Perhaps the river has changed since he was up here last," said Tom."Anyway, it's a good bit narrower here than it was further back."
Sliding down the hillside had loosened the load on the sled, and theyhad to spend a good five minutes in fastening it and mending a strapthat had broken. Then several minutes more were consumed in putting ontheir skates.
"My! how it does snow!" came from Tom, as they started at last. "Ican't see fifty feet ahead."
"Nor I, Tom. I really wish we were with Dick and Mr. Barrow."
"So do I, but I guess it's all right."
Forward they pushed, dragging the sled after them. It was rough work,and the ice was often covered too deep with snow to make skating apleasure.
"It seems to me the river is getting narrower than ever," said Sam."It's queer, too, for Mr. Barrow said it was quite broad near the lake."
"He said one of the branches was broad, Sam. We must be on a differentbranch."
"Let us call to them again."
Once more they cried out, at the top of their lungs. But nothinganswered them, not even a muffled echo. All was swallowed up in theloneliness of the situation and in the fast falling snow, which nowcovered even the load on the sled to the depth of an inch or more.
"Come on," said Sam half desperately. "We must catch up to them, sooneror later."
"Perhaps we are ahead of them."
"It isn't likely. Let us go on, anyway."
And on they went, another quarter of a mile. The stream was now broader,and this raised their hopes considerably. But suddenly Tom gave a cry ofdismay.
"Look, Sam! We have reached the end of the stream!"
Sam strained h
is eyes and went on a few feet further. Then he gave agroan. His brother was right, the stream had come to an end in a pondprobably a hundred feet in diameter. They had not been following thePerch River at all, but merely a brook flowing into that stream!