CHAPTER XIII

SNOWED IN

Until the present moment Rod had forgotten to speak of the mysterious man-trail he had encountered in the chasm. The excitement of the past hour had made him oblivious to all other things, but now as they ate their dinner he described the strange maneuvers of the spying Woonga. He did not, however, voice those fears which had come to him in the gorge, preferring to allow Mukoki and Wabigoon to draw their own conclusions.

By this time the two Indians were satisfied that the Woongas were not contemplating attack, but that for some unaccountable reason they were as anxious to evade the hunters as the hunters were to evade them.

Everything that had pa.s.sed seemed to give evidence of this. The outlaw in the chasm, for instance, could easily have waylaid Rod; a dozen times the almost defenseless camp could have been attacked, and there were innumerable places where ambushes might have been laid for them along the trap-lines.

So Rod's experience with the Woonga trail between the mountains occasioned little uneasiness, and instead of forming a scheme for the further investigation of this trail on the south, plans were made for locating the first fall. Mukoki was the swiftest and most tireless traveler on snow-shoes, and it was he who volunteered to make the first search. He would leave the following morning, taking with him a supply of food, and during his absence Rod and Wabigoon would attend to the traps.

"We must have the location of the first fall before we return to the Post," declared Wabi. "If from that we find that the third fall is not within a hundred miles of our present camp it will be impossible for us to go in search of our gold during this trip. In that event we shall have to go back to Wabinosh House and form a new expedition, with fresh supplies and the proper kind of tools. We can not do anything until the spring freshets are over, anyway."

"I have been thinking of that," replied Rod, his eyes softening. "You know mother is alone, and--her--"

"I understand," interrupted the Indian boy, laying a hand fondly across his companion's arm.

"--her funds are small, you know," Rod finished. "If she has been sick--or--anything like that--"

"Yes, we've got to get back with our furs," helped Wabi, a tremor of tenderness in his own voice. "And if you don't mind, Rod, I might take a little run down to Detroit with you. Do you suppose she would care?"

"Care!" shouted Rod, bringing his free hand down upon Wabi's arm with a force that hurt. "Care! Why, she thinks as much of you as she does of me, Wabi! She'd be tickled to death! Do you mean it?"

Wabi's bronzed face flushed a deeper red at his friend's enthusiasm.

"I won't promise--for sure," he said. "But I'd like to see her--almost as much as you, I guess. If I can, I'll go."

Rod's face was suffused with a joyful glow.

"And I'll come back with you early in the summer and we'll start out for the gold," he cried. He jumped to his feet and slapped Mukoki on the back in the happy turn his mind had taken. "Will you come, too, Mukoki?

I'll give you the biggest 'city time' you ever had in your life!"

The old Indian grinned and chuckled and grunted, but did not reply in words. Wabi laughed, and answered for him.

"He is too anxious to become Minnetaki's slave again, Rod. No, Muky won't go, I'll wager that. He will stay at the Post to see that she doesn't get lost, or hurt, or stolen by the Woongas. Eh, Mukoki?" Mukoki nodded, grinning good-humoredly. He went to the door, opened it and looked out.

"Devil--she snow!" he cried. "She snow like twent' t'ousand--like devil!"

This was the strongest English in the old warrior's vocabulary, and it meant something more than usual. Wabi and Rod quickly joined him. Never in his life had the city youth seen a snow-storm like that which he now gazed out into. The great north storm had arrived--a storm which comes just once each year in the endless Arctic desolation. For days and weeks the Indians had expected it and wondered at its lateness. It fell softly, silently, without a breath of air to stir it; a smothering, voiceless sea of white, impenetrable to human vision, so thick that it seemed as though it might stifle one's breath. Rod held out the palm of his hand and in an instant it was covered with a film of white. He walked out into it, and a dozen yards away he became a ghostly, almost invisible shadow.

When he came back a minute later he brought a load of snow into the cabin with him.

All that afternoon the snow fell like this, and all that night the storm continued. When he awoke in the morning Rod heard the wind whistling and howling through the trees and around the ends of the cabin. He rose and built the fire while the others were still sleeping. He attempted to open the door, but it was blocked. He lowered the barricade at the window, and a barrel of snow tumbled in about his feet. He could see no sign of day, and when he turned he saw Wabi sitting up in his blankets, laughing silently at his wonder and consternation.

"What in the world--" he gasped.

"We're snowed in," grinned Wabi. "Does the stove smoke?"

"No," replied Rod, throwing a bewildered glance at the roaring fire.

"You don't mean to say--"

"Then we are not completely, buried," interrupted the other. "At least the top of the chimney is sticking out!"

Mukoki sat up and stretched himself.

"She blow," he said, as a tremendous howl of wind swept over the cabin.

"Bime-by she blow some more!"

Rod shoveled the snow into a corner and replaced the barricade while his companions dressed.

"This means a week's work digging out traps," declared Wabi. "And only Mukoki's Great Spirit, who sends all blessings to this country, knows when the blizzard is going to stop. It may last a week. There is no chance of finding our waterfall in this."

"We can play dominoes," suggested Rod cheerfully. "You remember we haven't finished that series we began at the Post. But you don't expect me to believe that it snowed enough yesterday afternoon and last night to cover this cabin, do you?"

"It didn't exactly _snow_ enough to cover it," explained his comrade.

"But we're covered for all of that. The cabin is on the edge of an open, and of course the snow just naturally drifts around us, blown there by the wind. If this blizzard keeps up we shall be under a small mountain by night."

"Won't it--smother us?" faltered Rod.

Wabi gave a joyous whoop of merriment at the city-bred youth's half-expressed fear and a volley of Mukoki's chuckles came from where he was slicing moose-steak on the table.

"Snow mighty nice thing live under," he a.s.serted with emphasis.

"If you were under a mountain of snow you could live, if you weren't crushed to death," said Wabi. "Snow is filled with air. Mukoki was caught under a snow-slide once and was buried under thirty feet for ten hours. He had made a nest about as big as a barrel and was nice and comfortable when we dug him out. We won't have to burn much wood to keep warm now."

After breakfast the boys again lowered the barricade at the window and Wabi began to bring small avalanches of snow down into the cabin with his shovel. At the third or fourth upward thrust a huge ma.s.s plunged through the window, burying them to the waist, and when they looked out they could see the light of day and the whirling blizzard above their heads.

"It's up to the roof," gasped Rod. "Great Scott, what a snow-storm!"

"Now for some fun!" cried the Indian youth. "Come on, Rod, if you want to be in it."

He crawled through the window into the cavity he had made in the drift, and Rod followed. Wabi waited, a mischievous smile on his face, and no sooner had his companion joined him than he plunged his shovel deep into the base of the drift. Half a dozen quick thrusts and there tumbled down upon their heads a ma.s.s of light snow that for a few moments completely buried them. The suddenness of it knocked Rod to his knees, where he floundered, gasped and made a vain effort to yell. Struggling like a fish he first kicked his feet free, and Wabi, who had thrust out his head and shoulders, shrieked with laughter as he saw only Rod's boots sticking out of the snow.

"You're going the wrong way, Rod!" he shouted. "Wow--wow!"

He seized his companion's legs and helped to drag him out, and then stood shaking, the tears streaming down his face, and continued to laugh until he leaned back in the drift, half exhausted. Rod was a curious and ludicrous-looking object. His eyes were wide and blinking; the snow was in his ears, his mouth, and in his floundering he had packed his coat collar full of it. Slowly he recovered from his astonishment, saw Wabi and Mukoki quivering with laughter, grinned--and then joined them in their merriment.

It was not difficult now for the boys to force their way through the drift and they were soon standing waist-deep in the snow twenty yards from the cabin.

"The snow is only about four feet deep in the open," said Wabi. "But look at that!"

He turned and gazed at the cabin, or rather at the small part of it which still rose triumphant above the huge drift which had almost completely buried it. Only a little of the roof, with the smoking chimney rising out of it, was to be seen. Rod now turned in all directions to survey the wild scene about him. There had come a brief lull in the blizzard, and his vision extended beyond the lake and to the hilltop. There was not a spot of black to meet his eyes; every rock was hidden; the trees hung silent and lifeless under their heavy mantles and even their trunks were beaten white with the clinging volleys of the storm. There came to him then a thought of the wild things in this seemingly uninhabitable desolation. How could they live in this endless desert of snow? What could they find to eat? Where could they find water to drink? He asked Wabi these questions after they had returned to the cabin.

"Just now, if you traveled from here to the end of this storm zone you wouldn't find a living four-legged creature," said Wabigoon. "Every moose in this country, every deer and caribou, every fox and wolf, is buried in the snow. And as the snow falls deeper about them the warmer and more comfortable do they become, so that even as the blizzard increases in fury the kind Creator makes it easier for them to bear.

When the storm ceases the wilderness will awaken into life again. The moose and deer and caribou will rise from their snow-beds and begin to eat the boughs of trees and saplings; a crust will have formed on the snow, and all the smaller animals, like foxes, lynx and wolves, will begin to travel again, and to prey upon others for food. Until they find running water again snow and ice take the place of liquid drink; warm caverns dug in the snow give refuge in place of thick swamp moss and brush and leaves. All the big animals, like moose, deer and caribou, will soon make 'yards' for themselves by trampling down large areas of snow, and in these yards they will gather in big herds, eating their way through the forests, fighting the wolves and waiting for spring. Oh, life isn't altogether bad for the animals in a deep winter like this!"

Until noon the hunters were busy cleaning away the snow from the cabin door. As the day advanced the blizzard increased in its fury, until, with the approach of night, it became impossible for the hunters to expose themselves to it. For three days the storm continued with only intermittent lulls, but with the dawn of the fourth day the sky was again cloudless, and the sun rose with a blinding effulgence. Rod now found himself suffering from that sure affliction of every tenderfoot in the far North--snow-blindness. For only a few minutes at a time could he stand the dazzling reflections of the snow-waste where nothing but white, flashing, scintillating white, seemingly a vast sea of burning electric points in the sunlight, met his aching eyes. On the second day after the storm, while Wabi was still inuring Rod to the changed world and teaching him how to accustom his eyes to it gradually, Mukoki left the cabin to follow the chasm in his search for the first waterfall.