CHAPTER XXIX--Tom Tramps Down McDonald Creek in a Chinook Wind,and Reaches Shelter Almost Exhausted
Meanwhile, Tom had been losing no time. An hour after he had yelled toJoe from the top of the danger zone on the wall, he had gone over thepass and reached the Granite Park chalet. Here he paused a few momentsfor breath, and looked across the shadow-filled canyon to the great whitepinnacle of Heaven's Peak, rosy-white with the sunrise. Then he plungeddown the trail, with little fear of snowslides on this side because ofthe trees to anchor the drifts, and in another hour reached the LakeMcDonald trail at the bottom. Without any pause, he plugged steadilyalong through the tall, silent, lonely forest, over such deep snow thathe was elevated far above the underbrush and had difficulty sometimes inspotting the trail, and kept at it till noon. Then he paused to build afire of dead pine limbs on trodden snow and cook himself some bacon,roasting it on a stick.
It was not till this lunch was eaten that he noticed the dusking of thesun, and looking up saw a great, ugly, dark cloud coming over the rangeto the west.
His heart, like Joe's back in the cabin a little later, went downsomewhere into his moccasins. But, he kept telling himself, he had onlya dozen or fifteen more miles to go, he was in the protection of woods,and he couldn't get lost because the canyon walls would always show himthe way. Besides, he had his sleeping-bag. He could crawl into somehollow tree with it, if the blizzard got too bad. But he must not stopif he could help it.
"Mills' life or mine!" he kept saying. "It's up to me to save theRanger!"
And he shouldered his pack once more, and pressed on, with one anxiouseye on the trail, one on the cloud above, which was rapidly spreadingacross to the eastern range and enveloping the Divide. Every second heexpected to see the first white, driving sheets of the blizzard, for thecloud was racing now, the wind up there was blowing hard. Yet no snowcame. In fact, Tom began to get hot. He thought it was the exertion oftrying to increase his pace. But when he stopped to rest his wearyshoulders a moment, he was still hot. The wind was certainly beginningto come roaring down into the trees above him now. At last it hit hisface. It was a hot wind!
Then, suddenly, he realized what was coming. "The Chinook!" he criedaloud.
It was the Chinook! In half an hour, Tom was in a wringing perspiration,and his fur coat had taken its place on his pack. Under his feet amiracle was being performed. The level of the snow was steadilysinking--slowly, to be sure, here in the woods, but steadily. It wassticky on his snow-shoes, but not half so sticky as he thought it wouldbe. The wind seemed so dry that it just soaked the snow up, instead ofmelting it.
On and on Tom plodded, wearily, almost exhausted now, going on sheernerve, till close to five o'clock he got a hint of the lake. Then hepicked up other snow-shoe tracks, and Robinson Crusoe could not havebeen more delighted at the sight of a human footprint.
"There's somebody at the hotel!" Tom cried, again aloud.
This sight gave him a second wind, and he plugged on, with clear hintsof the lake through the trees now, and what seemed like open water. Butthe trail kept off to the east of it, and it was getting rapidly darkwhen he finally came into a clearing and saw the hotel.
The hotel was dark, but near by, in a smaller house, there shone alight! Tom hurried, with his last ounce of strength, to the door, andpounded.
The door was opened, and Tom almost fell in. A strong hand caught him,and steadied him while he got off his snow-shoes, and then steadied himto a chair.
"Well, who be you, and where'd you come from?" a voice asked.
Tom could see little but the warm lamplight. The room, the face of theman, were all a blur.
"Many Glacier, over Swift Current," he gasped. "Mills ate something lastnight--he's awful sick--telephone to the superintendent--orsomebody--send a doctor."
"You mean to tell me you've come over Swift Current since last night, inthat snow, and then through the Chinook?"
"Yes--'phone for a doctor--quick!"
"Why didn't you 'phone from Many Glacier?"
"Wire's on the bum--can't you hurry and 'phone?" Tom almost wailed.
"Easy, son, easy," the voice steadied him. "Nobody can start back nowtill mornin'. I want to get this right. I can hardly believe it."
"Oh, you _got_ to believe it!" Tom cried.
The man rose and began to work at the stove. Presently he brought Tom abig cup of hot coffee, and a plate of food, and stood by while he drankand ate.
As the hot coffee and the food began to revive him, Tom told the wholestory over again, more calmly, and the caretaker listened, his eyes big.
"Well, son," he said, "you're all to the mustard. Now, if you're able,we'll go 'phone."
He led the way, and Tom repeated his story to the Park superintendent'soffice.
"Be ready to start back at daylight," a voice said. "If the Chinook'scleared open water enough for the launch to get up the lake, we'll pickyou up where you are. Otherwise, meet us at the fork of the east andwest trail at the head of the lake an hour after sunrise--that is, ifyou are up to going back with us."
"I'll be there!" Tom said.
His new friend now took him back into the warm, lighted room, made himundress and give himself a good rub, and then put him to bed on a couchin the corner.
"If you're goin' back over that trail to-morrow," he said, "you'll needall the sleep you can get to-night."
"I guess you're right," Tom answered, as he fell wearily, helplessly,upon the soft spring, and almost immediately felt his eyelids close oftheir own accord. That was the last he remembered till a hand on hisshoulder was shaking him,--it seemed about five minutes later.