Storm-Bound; or, A Vacation Among the Snow Drifts

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER III

  THE LONG NIGHT

  "LET me tell you this is going to be the queerest old camp any of usever found ourselves stuck in," Toby ventured to remark, some timelater.

  "I should say it was," grumbled George, as he rubbed his ears, and thenheld both hands out toward the fire to warm them again.

  "I know one thing we ought to do right away," said Elmer, "and that'sget out those warm skating tuques; they'll keep the air off our heads,and can be drawn down to protect our ears."

  "That's a good idea, Elmer," Lil Artha told him, "because I don't wantto have one of my wigwags frozen off. You see, I'm so much taller thanthe rest of you it takes harder work for my poor heart to pump warmblood all the way up; and so I'm likely to suffer from cold extremities.Seems like that off ear is frosted right now."

  "If it is," cried George, hurriedly, as though he thought Lil Arthameant all he said, "take my advice, and rub it hard with a lot of snow.That'll take the frost out, and start circulation again. Brr! but thisis going to be a tough night, when you think of it."

  "I don't know," Elmer told him; "seems to me we've got a whole lot tobe thankful for, with this fine fire, and a protection against thestorm. Perhaps we may run up against something harder than this beforewe're done."

  "But we haven't got a tent, and our grub is pretty skimpy, say what youwill," the grumbler went on to protest.

  "Yes, that's all very true," continued Elmer, "but how wise we were tofetch our blankets along, for fear that Toby's uncle mightn't haveenough in stock to go around. They felt pretty heavy when we carriedthem, soldier fashion, around one shoulder, and tied them under theother arm; but here's where they come in dandy."

  "Well, believe me, it was the smartest trick we ever did," Lil Arthahastened to comment, "and if we'd only glimpsed this sort of box ahead,so as to lay in three times as much grub, it'd be all right."

  "It is all right as it stands," the leader went on to say, "and we'llshow how scouts can take things as they come, without making mouths. Solet's see how we're going to fix ourselves for the night."

  "Guess none of us care much to sit up late, and gabble over the fire,"suggested Toby; "though it seems a fellow can't get enough of that heatin him."

  "I want to shut out the whole business," affirmed George, in sheerdisgust, "and I hope that after my eyes close I won't know a bloomingthing till morning."

  George was a good sleeper as a rule, and his troubles seldom kept himfrom getting a fair share of rest. Nor was he like his cousin, PhilanderSmith, also a member of the Wolf Patrol, and who had been known to walkin his sleep; George, once he snuggled down, with his blanket tucked allaround him, was like a regular Indian mummy. The others, knowing thisfrom past experiences, paid little attention to his complaintsconcerning a disturbed night, because they knew it never had any realbasis of fact.

  For some little time the four boys busied themselves getting "fixed."George was as hard to suit as any old maid. He found something wrongwith every corner of the depression that he tried; here it was a rootthat jabbed him in the ribs; in another place the point of a big stonemade it impossible for him to curl up, and maintain a comfortableattitude.

  After he had made the complete round, the others allowing him hischoice, he was finally compelled to accept the first position he hadtested.

  "Now let's hope we've heard the last kick from you, George," Lil Arthatold him, severely, after submitting to all this fussing; "I don't seewhat you've got to complain about after all. Your bones are well coveredwith a pad, while mine stick out like the joints of a scarecrow. Andsay, don't you think I'm going to have a tough time of it stowing theselong legs of mine away? Chances are they'll push out in the night, andwhen I wake up again I'll find the lower part of poor Lil Artha asstiff as a board. Subside, George! Give the rest of us a chance to getsettled down. If we all took as long as you did it'd be near morningbefore we fixed things."

  Finally, however, they seemed to have made the best of a bad bargain.Taking Elmer's advice they all kept as close together as possible. Inthis way perhaps they might not secure a great abundance of decentsleep, but the fact of their being in touch with each other would add totheir comfort in the way of warmth.

  Elmer, with characteristic generosity, had chosen last, and hence he laynearer the outside of the shelter than any of his mates. But havingknown what it was to be exposed to the rigors of a cold storm, since hehad braved a Canadian winter while up on that ranch, the young scoutmaster also knew how to make use of his blanket as though it were asleeping bag.

  The hours dragged slowly along.

  Afterwards they would always look back, and shudder as they rememberedhow terribly long that night did seem. And yet none of them reallysuffered, save that it was impossible to sleep, only in snatches.

  This was on account of several things. In the first place, they werejammed together in a way to which they were wholly unaccustomed; andwhen one stirred on becoming cramped it aroused all the others in turn.Then their strange surroundings had more or less influence upon them.Not that there was any furious noise, such as would have accompanied asummer gale; but the weird moaning of the wintry wind through theleafless branches of the oaks, and the bending tops of the pines, made amusic that kept them thinking they heard human voices calling for help.

  Another reason why Elmer had chosen the outside place when lying downwas his desire to keep watch upon the fire.

  It was his intention to keep this going as long as possible, though afellow built on the order of George would have complained bitterly hadhe been compelled to crawl out of his snug nest several times in orderto face that pitiless storm, and pile more fuel on the smouldering logs.

  Elmer was one of those boys who, knowing his duty, always went about itwithout any brag or bluster, and could be depended on to sacrifice hisown comfort in order that his chums might benefit. In other words Elmerwas what you might call an ideal scout. He seldom had any trouble aboutpracticing those twelve cardinal principles that govern the working dayof a scout--to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous,kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent. They camenaturally to him.

  Three times did he perform this fire-building act. The last occasionmust have been well on toward the hour of three in the morning, as hejudged from certain conditions, though he could not bother looking athis little silver watch.

  At that time the storm was keeping it up just as wildly as ever, andthere was much more than a foot of snow on the ground, where it had notdrifted; with any quantity still to come down.

  After that Elmer must have secured better sleep, for he did not wake upagain until a movement accompanied by a voice aroused him.

  "Great Scott! let me tell you the bottom's dropped out of the mercurytube this time, boys!" the voice went on to bellow, and he recognizedthe tones as belonging to George, who had not been heard from ever sincehe first curled up in the folds of his warm blanket.

  He was raising his head now, and observing his breath as it congealed inthe frosty air. Elmer knew that the time to sleep had passed, because itwas daylight.

  "How about that snow, has it stopped?" asked another voice, as Toby satup, and began to stretch his arms upon which he may have been lying sothat they felt more or less numb.

  "Still coming down as hard as ever," Elmer told him, shaking quite a lotof the feathery stuff out of the folds of his blanket; and thenstruggling to his feet.

  There was no lounging around that morning. It was so cold that everyfellow was glad to get into action immediately he came out of hisblanket. George begged to be allowed to lie there until the fire gotgood and warm. He urged every plea he could think of, saying they wouldonly get in each others' way by crowding; and that too many cooks alwaysspoiled the broth, anyway; but Toby and Lil Artha declared they had nouse for a shirker; and if he did nothing else he could stand up andserve as a windbreak for the "willing workers."

  The fire had gone completely out, and several inches of snow covered thespot;
but wise, long-headed Elmer had provided against such acontingency on the evening before, for he had a handful of fine wood,light and dry, handy, with which to make a fresh start.

  After things got to moving it was not so bad. The scouts soon felt evena little cheerful over the situation, because a crackling fire is one ofthe greatest inducements to raising one's spirits ever discovered. Whenshivering with the cold, and hungry as well, the world looks pretty blueto any one; but let that same person come in close contact with a firethat warms him up, and things quickly take on quite a different hue.

  Then there was that fragrant odor of coffee and bacon cooking on thefire that tickled the noses of the boys; nothing could beat that forgood cheer--"if only they had more of the same," as George constantlyreminded them, even when enjoying his share.

  "Strikes me this is a mighty slim breakfast," he remarked, as he foundthat he had already caused more than half that was on his pannikin tovanish, and yet his appetite seemed as sharp as ever.

  "You never spoke truer words, George," said Toby, soberly, "but when youstop to think what a small amount of stuff we've got along with us, andthe bad fix we're in, you can understand that we've got to cut theallowance down."

  "Yes," added Lil Artha, "of course you've heard of shipwrecked marinersbeing in a boat, and drifting around on the big ocean for days and days.Well, they always have to go on half rations, both with food and freshdrinking water. Anyhow we won't have to bother our poor heads about thatlast, because all we have to do is to melt snow and get what we want."

  "Hang it, I wish we could melt all the old white stuff; I hate it!"George continued, being a poor loser.

  "And yet I've heard you fairly raving over the beautiful snow," chuckledLil Artha, "but then that was when you were out sleigh riding with PollyBrett. Makes considerable difference what your condition is, how youlook at things. For my part I don't hanker after snow one bit right now.Seen all I want to of it to last me all winter; but then what's the usebothering your head about things that can't be changed. It's acondition, not a theory, that confronts us, and what we want to do is toset our minds to work wrestling with the question of how we're going tocrawl out of this difficulty and find Uncle Caleb's shack."

  "Whew! mebbe I don't wish we were there now, snug under his roof, andtelling him all about our adventure, as well as how Elmer here found away to pull his chums out of a hole, like he always does," and Toby,while saying this, gave the scout master a sly look, as though begginghim to tell them some hopeful news that would buoy their sinkingspirits up.

  "I wish I had as much confidence in myself as you seem to feel in me,Toby," was what Elmer told him, "but I couldn't say the storm is nearlyover, because it's coming down as hard as ever, and goodness knows whenit means to let up. But we're a lively bunch, you know, and we're boundto find some way of getting out of this scrape."

  "We've been in others just as tough, remember," Lil Artha declared, "andalways did get to the top of the heap in the end."

  "That's the way to talk," Elmer continued; "confidence is always onehalf of the battle. We've proved that on many a hard-fought field,baseball, football and hockey as well. If you can force yourself tobelieve you will win, the chances are improved three-fold."

  "Well," said George, drily, as he stared very hard at his now emptyplatter, "I'm doing my level best to force myself to believe thispannikin is heaped high with beefsteak and fried onions and friedpotatoes; now if I've got a third of a chance to get what I'm wishingfor, even that much would fill a long-felt want. But say, none of yousee any grub coming along on my dish do you? Well, wishing don't seem todo any good. I'm as hungry as ever, too, worse luck. Even speaking ofsuch splendid eatings seems to make my mouth water."

  "Then stop it!" cried Toby; "think all you want to, but the rest of ushave feelings as well as you, and it's cruelty to animals to evenmention such things as--"

  "Hold on there! don't you aggravate things by mentioning that listagain, or I'll proceed to roll you out of this hole into the snowdrifts!" threatened Lil Artha, pretending to make a threatening gesture,while Toby threw up both hands in token of abject surrender.

  "I'm dumb as an oyster, Lil Artha," he protested. "I haven't got anotherword to say; but if there's got to be any ejecting done let's grab theright party, and see that he gets his full dose."

  George had meanwhile managed to pick up a couple of extra crackers, andhaving his mouth full did not make any reply. Lil Artha deftly snatchedthe box away from him, and closing it, calmly placed it out of reach.

  "No hogging, now, George," he went on to say; "share and share alike isthe rule we've got to go by from now on. If there's any hungry feelingswinging around, it's going to be no one-sided game. Others can feelempty as well as the Robbins family pet. But let's hope that beforeanother night we'll all be sitting around a table in Uncle Caleb'sshack, as warm and cozy as four bugs in a rug."

  The mere thought of having to spend a second night amidst those enormoussnow drifts gave the boys an unpleasant feeling. They turned and lookedout from under their rude shelter. The fire itself was cheery; butbeyond this lay the piles of snow, the grim trees with their white armsextended like monuments in the burying ground at Hickory Ridge, and withthe air full of still rapidly falling flakes, as though the weather manup aloft had an unlimited supply of white geese to pluck on this specialoccasion.

  For a short time no one said a word. They were all busy with thoughts,perhaps connected with their happy homes, so far removed; or it might betrying to picture the cheery scene Lil Artha had spoken of when hementioned that cabin of Uncle Caleb, the man of science, and the smallanimal photographer and trapper.