The Camp in the Snow - Part 26
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Part 26

"Not a sound," replied Jerry. "Wait a second. I'll settle the matter."

He pulled out his metal box of matches and sc.r.a.ped one. As the light flared up, the lads glanced anxiously around them.

They saw at once that they were in an underground cavern. To right and left stretched a gloomy pa.s.sage, ten feet wide. The sides and roof were of jagged, slimy rock, dripping with moisture.

Deep footsteps crossed the snow and led into the yawning blackness to the right. They were of recent origin, for the white imprint was visible in half-a-dozen places on the smooth, rocky floor.

"Do you see that?" Jerry whispered, hoa.r.s.ely. "There is some person here, sure enough."

"Who can it be?" said Hamp. "Perhaps it's Brick."

In a clear, distinct voice he called the missing lad's name several times. But there was no reply. Jerry shook his head.

"It's not Brick," he muttered. "How would he get separated from his companions? We were following only one trail toward the last, so this may be Sparwick."

"Then why did Brick and those men give up the chase and branch off?"

asked Hamp. "It's too deep a mystery for me."

"It is sort of puzzling," admitted Jerry, "but we won't bother about that now. Whoever it was that fell into the cavern, I believe he has found a way out by this time, and that's the first thing we want to do."

"I hate the idea of crawling through the dark," muttered Hamp.

"The matches will last if we use them sparingly," Jerry replied. "We've got to take this stuff with us, though. No; we'll leave the venison behind. Here's the rifle. Be careful, for it's loaded."

He gave Hamp the weapon and some of the dishes. The rest he took himself. When he picked up the tin coffeepot, it rattled. He lifted the lid, and found two sperm candles.

"Here's luck," he exclaimed. "How did they get here? We're sure of light now."

"Brick put them in the coffeepot this morning," said Hamp. "He had them in his pocket, and didn't want to carry them."

"Brick ought to have a medal for that," declared Jerry, as he lighted one of the candles. "Have we got everything? Yes; come on."

They trampled over the snow and went cautiously and slowly along the gloomy pa.s.sage. The yellow gleam of the candle danced ahead of them and threw grotesque shadows on the slimy walls and roof. They advanced ten feet. The distance increased to twenty. As yet, not a speck of daylight could be seen.

Suddenly a rustling noise was heard. A low, angry growl followed instantly. Beyond the radius of candlelight the terrified boys saw a pair of fiery, snapping eyes. They stopped and turned half around.

"The rifle, quick!" cried Jerry.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of his companion's hands and gave him the candle instead. But before Jerry could lift the hammer of the weapon a startling interruption came from an unexpected quarter.

CHAPTER XXII.

AN UNEXPECTED ALLY.

A little in front of the lads, and to their left, a slab of rock jutted out from the side of the pa.s.sage.

From behind this suddenly emerged a tall, gaunt figure. It was no less a personage than Kyle Sparwick.

No doubt Sparwick had also seen the snapping eyes, and it was this which had scared him from his hiding-place.

A low, savage growl rang through the cavern. Sparwick uttered a yell, and dashed forward. In his terror, he probably thought only of flight.

But the glare of the candle led him astray, and he collided blindly with Jerry. Both came to the rocky floor with a crash, and each imagined that the other had attacked him.

The two rolled over and over, locked in a tight embrace, and uttering hoa.r.s.e cries. Jerry had dropped the rifle; nor could he reach for it, since his hands were needed for other purposes.

With one fist Sparwick pounded his antagonist on the face and breast.

Jerry warded off the blows as well as he could, and tried to return them.

"Let me go!" he cried. "Help! help!"

"Let me go," yelled Sparwick, in shrill tones. "There's some sort of wild critter in this here place."

Jerry did not understand what he said. There was a comical side to the struggle, for each was trying to break away, and each imagined that the other was striving to hold him.

Meanwhile, Hamp held the candle and looked on like a piece of statuary.

In fact, he did not know what else to do.

"Put the candle down," yelled Jerry. "Get the rifle and hit this fellow on the head."

But before Hamp could make a single move toward the execution of this order, he saw something that made his eyes fairly bulge out of their sockets. Where the fiery eyes had been seen a moment before, now appeared a monstrous bear.

The creature was fat, and his short, black fur bristled with rage. He was evidently ravenously hungry, and came swinging down the pa.s.sage, uttering growl after growl.

Just when bruin was within six feet of them, Jerry and Sparwick caught sight of him. Their yells of fright blended into one. Who broke loose first, it is impossible to say. They tumbled apart, and scrambled in hot haste to their feet. Sparwick slipped back against the wall, and the delay proved fatal.

The bear was right upon him, having risen to his hind legs. A single blow from one of the great paws toppled the unfortunate man over on hands and knees.

Jerry saw the disaster, made a frantic dash, and ran into Hamp's arms.

The latter dropped the candle, and it was extinguished as soon as it struck the floor, plunging the scene in utter darkness.

The first impulse of the terror-stricken lads was to get as far away as possible. But Sparwick's shrill cries for help checked them. The panicky feeling fled, and they regained their courage and self-possession.

"Hold on!" cried Jerry. "We can't leave the fellow to such a fate, even if he is a rascal."

"That's so," replied Hamp. "Strike a match, quick!"

Jerry already had the metal box out of his pocket, and the words were barely spoken when the tiny flame of a match pierced the darkness.

Jerry spied the candle as quickly. He grabbed it, and lit the wick. Then the brighter light showed the boys a startling picture.

Ten feet distant stood the bear, still erect on his hind legs. He had his forepaws about Sparwick, and was straining him to his breast. The angry growls of the animal mingled with the shrill, pitiful cries of the man.

"Look, there's the rifle!" exclaimed Hamp.