trapper's age.
Seth knew what men were, and so he heaped more wood on the fire, and setabout at once getting supper ready.
Sapper would never have suggested itself to anybody if Allan had notreturned.
The journey "home," as the good yacht was always called, was commencedthe very next morning, and accomplished in eight-and-forty hours.
A red deer fell to Allan's gun by the way.
"I do believe," said Allan, "it is the self-same rascal that led me sucha dance."
"We'll have a haunch off him, then," said McBain, "to roast when we goback, and so celebrate your return."
"The chief's return," said Ralph, laughing.
"The prodigal son's bedad," said Rory; "but I'm going to have thatstag's head. Isn't he a lordly fellow, with his kingly antlers! I'llstuff it, an oh! sure, if we ever do get back to Arrandoon, it's myselfwill hang it in the hall in commemoration of the great wild-goosechase."
By means of their compasses and trapper Seth's skill they were able tomarch in almost a bee-line upon what they termed their own ravine. Butnot during any portion of the journey was Seth idle. He was scanningevery yard of the ground around him, studying every feature of thelandscape, and making so many strange marks upon the trees, that at lastRory asked him,--
"Whatever are you about, friend Seth? Is it a button off your coatyou've lost, or what is the meaning of your strange earnestness?"
Seth smiled grimly.
"I guess," he replied, "we may have to make tracks across this bit ofcountry once or twice after the snow is on the ground. Shouldn't liketo be lost, should you?"
Rory shrugged his shoulders.
When they were having their mid-day meal Rory returned to the charge.
"Were ever you lost in the snow?" he said to Seth.
"More'n once," replied Seth.
"Tell us."
"Once in partikler," said Seth, "three of us were movin' around in awild bit o' country. It were skootin' after the b'ars we were, with oursnow-shoes on, for the snow were plaguey deep. I was a bit youngerthen, and I calculate that accounted for a deal of my headlongstupidity. Anyhow, we lost our way, and when we got our bearings again,night was beginning to fall, and as we didn't fancy passing it away fromthe log fire, we just made about all the haste we knew how to. I knewevery tree, even with snow on 'em, but I hadn't taken correct note ofthe rocks and gullies and such. And presently, blame me, gentlemen, ifI didn't miss my footing and go tumbling down to the bottom of a pit,twenty feet deep if it were an inch. I didn't go quite alone, though.No, I just drops my gun and clutches Jager by the hand, and down we goestogether in the most affectionate manner ever you could wish to see.
"Nat Weekley was a-comin' sliding up some ways in the rear. He waslookin' at his toes like, and didn't see us disappear, but he told usafterwards he kind o' missed us all of a suddint, you see, and guessedwe'd gone somewheres down into the bowels o' the earth. He was anamoosin kind of a 'possum, was old Nat. Presently he discovered ourhole, and laying himself cautiously down on the lower side of it, so'she shouldn't fall, he peers over the brink. He couldn't see us for abit, with the blinding snow-powder we'd raised. But Nat wasn't going tobe done.
"`Anybody down there?' says Nat, quite unconcernedly.
"`To be sure there is,' says we; `didn't you see us go in?'
"`No,' said Nat; `what did you go in for?'
"`Don't know,' said I, sulkily.
"`How are you going to get out?' says Nat.
"`Nary a bit o' me knows,' I says; `we came down so plaguey fast wedidn't take time to consider.'
"`Went to look for summut, I reckon?'
"`Oh!' cries Jager, `cease your banter, Nat.'
"`A pretty pair o' babes in the wood you'll make, won't you! Do youknow it'll soon be dark?'
"`Poor consolation that,' I says.
"`Pitch dark,' roars Nat, `and nary a morsel o' fire you'll be able tolight. And I reckon too it's in a b'ar's hole you are, and presentlythe b'ar will be coming home, and then there'll be the piper to pay.There'll be five minutes of a rough house down there, I can tell ye.'
"We felt kind o' riled now, and didn't reply, and so Nat went on:
"`I kind o' sees ye now,' he says. `I can just dimly descry ye, youlooks about as frisky as a pair o' bull buffaloes. Ha! ha! ha! You'llbe precious cold before long, though,' Nat continues. `Now don't sayNat's a bad old sort. He's going to throw ye down his flask; maybe yecan't catch it, so behold, Nat puts it in the pocket of his big skincoat, and pitches it down into your hole. Don't think it's the b'ar,cause he won't come home till it's just a trifle darker, and then--ha!ha! ha!--I thinks I sees the dust he'll raise. Good-bye, my sylvanbeauties. Good night, babies. Take care of your little selves; don'tcatch cold whatever ye do.'
"But all this was only Nat's fun, ye see. He carried a right good heartwithin him, I can tell you, and he wasn't above five hours gone whenback he comes with two more of our friends carrying a big lantern, along rope, and an axe, and in about ten minutes more Jager and I wereboth on the brink; but I can tell ye, gentlemen, it was about thecoldest five hours ever trapper Seth spent in his little existence."
The anxiety on board the yacht for the past few days had been very deepindeed, but as our heroes drew once more near to their home, andStevenson made sure they were all there, dogs and all.
"Hurrah, boys!" he cried to his men; "man the rigging!"
Ay, and they did too, and it would have done your heart good to haveheard that ringing cheer, and it wasn't one cheer either, but threetimes three, and one more to keep them whole.
McBain and his little party made noble response, you may be well sure;and meanwhile Peter, with his bagpipes, had mounted into the foretop andplayed them Highland welcome as they once more jumped on board of thesaucy _Snowbird_.
What a delightful evening they spent afterwards in the snuggery! Theywere often in the habit of inviting one of the mates aft, or even weirdlittle Magnus, with his budget of wonderful tales, but to-night theymust needs have it all to themselves, and it was quite one bell in themiddle watch ere they thought of retiring, and even after that they mustall go on deck to have a look around.
Not a breath of wind, not a cloud in the sky, and stars as big assaucers.
"Jack Frost has come while we've been talking," said McBain. "Lookhere, boys."
He threw a bit of wood overboard as he spoke; it rang as it alighted onthe surface of the ice.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
FROST AND NO SKATES!--RORY DISCONSOLATE--MCBAIN TO THE RESCUE--A ROARINGDAY AND A MERRY NIGHT--A MYSTERIOUS POOL.
King Frost _had_ come--and come, too, with a will, for when Rory went ondeck next morning the ice was all around the yacht, hard and smooth andblack.
"It is frozen in we are," said Rory--"frozen in entirely, and never avestige of a skate in the ship. Just look, Allan, that ice is bearingalready! What could have possessed us to leave Scotland withoutskates?"
"It is provoking," remarked Allan, looking at the ice with a ruefulcountenance.
"Well, we can't go back home for them, that is certain sure. D'yethink, now, that old Ap could manufacture us a few pairs?"
"He is very handy," Allan said; "but I question if he could manufactureskates."
"However," said Rory, "the ice is bearing; we can slide if we can'tskate. So I, for one, am going over the side presently."
"Not to-day, Rory boy," said a quiet voice behind him, while at the sametime a hand was laid gently on his shoulder--"not to-day, Rory, itwouldn't be safe," said McBain. "I know you would risk it, but I loveyou too well to allow it."
"And sure, isn't your word law, then?" replied Rory.
McBain smiled, and no more was said on the subject; but for all thatRory had the ice on his mind all day, and that accounted for his havingbeen seen in close confab with old Ap for a whole hour, during whichpieces of wood and bits of iron were critically looked at, and manystrange tools examined and designs drawn on paper by Rory's deftartistic fi
ngers. But the result of all this may be summed up in thelittle word _nil_. Ap had taken much snuff during this consultation,but, "No, no; look, you see," he said, at last, "if it were a box now,or a barrel, or a boat, I could manage it; but skates, look you, is morescience than art."
So Rory had rather a long face when he came aft again, which wassomething most unusual for Rory. But his was the
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