Then came a sudden rumble and whirr, and Hamp felt a weight drop upon the rear part of his body. He knew what had happened, and threw himself convulsively forward. He cleared the fallen snow and then wheeled quickly around. The tunnel had disappeared. The roof had fallen in.

Hamp had no way of telling how far back the blockade extended.

"I'll have to turn back and clear the path," he reflected. "The cave-in surely can't reach farther than the stone. This time I'll make the roof stronger. I can be thankful it didn't drop all over me."

The cleared s.p.a.ce around him permitted him to turn slowly on his hands and knees. He described a complete revolution, gently patting the roof overhead to make sure that it was solid.

It was a most stupid thing to do, and when the realization of his folly flashed upon his mind, Hamp felt that he would give much to be able to kick himself. In truth, he had blundered into a most perplexing situation. He had utterly lost his bearings.

For a moment the lad was simply stupid with horror. He had not the least idea in which direction lay the cabin or the storehouse, the upper or the lower side of the ravine.

He was buried under a mighty snowdrift, that might collapse and stifle him at any instant.

CHAPTER XI.

UNDER THE SNOWDRIFT.

Hamp knew that his only hope lay in a clear head and a courageous heart.

Already the air seemed to be more dense, and he felt a difficulty in breathing.

"One thing certain," he reflected, "I've got about a ghost of a chance of striking either the cabin or the storehouse. If I try to tunnel away from here, there's no telling where I may land. I've got two chances--either to stay here until Brick and Jerry come to rescue me, or to get my bearings by hearing them shout."

The latter commended itself most favorably to Hamp. In spite of the risk of an avalanche, he put his hands to his lips and uttered a piercing yell.

No reply.

He waited, and tried again.

Now, to his delight, he heard a faint cry. He was not quick enough to locate it, so he shouted once more.

A moment later the answering hail came, but, alas! he could not make sure in what direction.

An agony of despair seized him, and he uttered cry after cry.

Fatal mistake! The loud noise loosened the quivering ma.s.ses of snow.

Hamp felt the walls shake and heard the rustling glide. Throwing out his arms, he fought his way upward through the descending avalanche. Though twice beaten back, he gained an upright position. Had the snow been less light and powdery, he must have been crushed to the ground.

He was now firmly on his feet, but in danger of suffocation. His head was covered. The snow pressed against his mouth and nose. He gasped for breath. He clutched and tore at the weight above him, swinging his arms from side to side. Then the powdery ma.s.ses slipped to right and left, disclosing a funnel-shaped aperture, through which filtered a current of cold air. Hamp uttered a cry of relief and made the opening larger. The top of the drift was about two feet above his head. He saw the circular patch of murky gray sky through the driving storm. He felt the icy flakes dropping upon his cheeks, and heard the hoa.r.s.e, deafening hum of the wind. The youth was in no present danger, but otherwise his position was not improved. He could not force a way onward through the drift, nor could he get his head high enough to see where he was.

"It's no go," he muttered. "I'm stuck here like a pig in a poke. Unless I keep mighty still, I'll have another avalanche from the surface."

Just then he heard two l.u.s.ty shouts, and the voices seemed to come from straight in front of him.

"Hurrah!" he yelled. "Brick! Jerry!"

The response quickly floated back, and at the same instant the wind drove a stinging shower of fine snow into his face.

Hamp wiped the snow off, and was about to utter another shout when he heard a shrill crackling above the din of the storm. As he stared upward he saw the disk of open air suddenly eclipsed by a sheet of blackness. More from instinct than logic, Hamp divined what this meant.

Quick as a flash he dived downward with arms and head, and sought to burrow under the drift.

He was none too quick. He heard a dull crash, and felt himself seized by some mighty force and driven roughly against the very ground. There was a considerable weight of loose snow upon him, and when he had beaten it away from his face, his outstretched hands caught hold of something that was solid, but p.r.i.c.kly and yielding.

He recognized it as the branch of a pine tree. Then he twisted about and thrust his hands down toward his middle. Here he found the trunk of the tree, resting with no little weight upon his thighs.

No bones were broken, nor was he even badly bruised. But, nevertheless, he was pinned fast. He lay partly on one side, with his head turned in the direction whence the voices of his friends had come.

The canopy of branches above admitted plenty of fresh air, and there was quite an open gap in front of his face. He made a strong effort to drag himself free, but stopped as soon as he found ma.s.ses of snow dropping down upon him. Then he shouted several times, and heard a faint response. The cries continued at intervals, and now they actually seemed to be coming closer.

"Brick and Jerry are tunneling this way," said Hamp, to himself. "I wonder if they will succeed in reaching me. I didn't tell them how I was going to dig. I only hope they won't get in the same fix that I was in a few minutes ago."

The chance of rescue--slim though it was--cheered him considerably, and gave him patience. He lay quite still, shouting from time to time. There were no longer any responses, but he concluded that the boys were afraid to shout for fear of a cave-in.

Twenty minutes of thrilling suspense slipped away. Then he heard a dull, m.u.f.fled sound, and a moment later a ma.s.s of snow dropped upon his face.

He threw out his hands and caught hold of a human arm.

"Brick! Jerry!" he shouted, with delight.

"We're here, old boy," replied Jerry's familiar voice. "Are you hurt?"

"Not a bit. I'm pinned fast, though."

"Well, we'll soon have you out. Brick and I thought you were a goner for sure when that tree fell. The crash sounded just where your voice was."

"It was a close call," replied Hamp. "But how did you get here so soon."

"Why, by your tunnel," said Jerry. "It was open a foot beyond that stone. We dug mighty carefully the rest of the way. That's what kept us so long."

"And now how are we going to get you free?" added Brick.

"I'll tell you," replied Hamp. "In the first place, make the pa.s.sage wide enough for both of you to kneel side by side."

"It's wide enough now," declared Jerry. "We came through in double file."

"Then take hold of my hands and pull."

The boys followed instructions, and by a long, steady haul they drew Hamp from under the trunk of the tree.

"There, that will do," he cried, as he sat up. "Thank goodness, I can kick as spry as ever. My trousers are torn, but I don't believe I have a scratch. I wouldn't go through this over again for a fortune."

He briefly told the boys his thrilling story, and it made them feel rather shivery.

"We had better go back while the way is open," said Brick. "It will be good-by if we are caught by a cave-in."

"I hate to give up," muttered Hamp, doggedly. "I Started for the storehouse, and I want to reach it."