CHAPTER FOUR.
LOST IN THE SNOW.
When Roy and Nelly set out for a ramble, they had at first no intentionof going beyond their usual haunts in the woods around the Fort; but Royhad been inspirited by his successful march that day with his father andWalter, and felt inclined to show Nelly some new scenes to which theyhad not, up to that time, dared to penetrate together.
The snow-storm, already referred to, had commenced gradually. When thechildren set forth on their ramble only a few flakes were falling, butthey had not been away half an hour when snow fell so thickly that theycould not see distinctly more than a few yards ahead of them. There wasno wind, however, so they continued to advance, rather pleased thanotherwise with the state of things.
"Oh, I _do_ like to see falling snow," cried Nelly, with a burst ofanimation.
"So do I," said Roy, looking back at his sister with a bright smile,"and I like it best when it comes down thick and heavy, in big flakes,on a _very_ calm day, don't you?"
"Yes, oh it's so nice," responded Nelly sympathetically.
They paused for minutes to shake some of the snow from their garments,and beat their hands together, for their fingers were cold, and to laughboisterously, for their hearts were merry. Then they resumed theirmarch, Roy beating the track manfully and Nelly following in hisfootsteps.
In passing beneath a tall fir-tree Roy chanced to touch a twig. Theresult was literally overwhelming, for in a moment he was almost buriedin snow, to the unutterable delight of his sister, who stood screamingwith laughter as the unfortunate boy struggled to disentomb himself.
In those northern wilds, where snow falls frequently and in greatabundance, masses are constantly accumulating on the branches of trees,particularly on the pines, on the broad flat branches of which thesemasses attain to considerable size. A slight touch is generallysufficient to bring these down, but, being soft, they never do anyinjury worth mentioning.
When Roy had fairly emerged from the snow he joined his sister in thelaugh, but suddenly he stopped, and his face became very grave.
"What's the matter?" asked Nelly, with an anxious look.
"My snow-shoe's broken," said Roy.
There was greater cause for anxiety on account of this accident than thereader is perhaps aware of. It may be easily understood that in acountry where the snow averages four feet in depth, no one can walkhalf-a-mile without snow-shoes without being thoroughly exhausted; onthe other hand, a man can walk thirty or forty miles a day by means ofsnow-shoes.
"Can't you mend it?" asked Nelly.
Roy, who had been carefully examining the damaged shoe, shook his head.
"I've nothing here to do it with; besides, it's an awful smash. I mustjust try to scramble home the best way I can. Come, it's not very far,we'll only be a bit late for dinner."
The snow-shoe having been bandaged, after a fashion, with apocket-handkerchief, the little wanderers began to retrace their steps;but this was now a matter of extreme difficulty, owing to the quantityof snow which had fallen and almost obliterated the tracks. The brokenshoe, also, was constantly giving way, so that ere long the childrenbecame bewildered as well as anxious, and soon lost the track of theiroutward march altogether. To make matters worse, the wind began to blowclouds of snow-drift into their faces, compelling them to seek thedenser parts of the forest for shelter.
They wandered on, however, in the belief that they were drawing nearerhome every step, and Roy, whose heart was stout and brave, cheered uphis sister's spirit so much that she began to feel quite confident theirtroubles would soon be over.
Presently all their hopes were dashed to the ground by their suddenlyemerging upon an open space, close to the very spot where the snow-masshad fallen on Roy's head. After the first feeling of alarm anddisappointment had subsided, Roy plucked up heart and encouraged Nellyby pointing out to her that they had at all events recovered their oldtrack, which they would be very careful not to lose sight of again.
Poor Nelly whimpered a little, partly from cold and hunger as well asfrom disappointment, as she listened to her brother's words; then shedried her eyes and said she was ready to begin again. So they set offonce more. But the difficulty of discerning the track, if great atfirst, was greater now, because the falling and drifting snow hadwell-nigh covered it up completely. In a very few minutes Roy stopped,and, confessing that he had lost it again, proposed to return once moreto their starting point to try to recover it. Nelly agreed, for she wasby this time too much fatigued and alarmed to have any will of her own,and was quite ready to do whatever she was told without question.
After wandering about for nearly an hour in this state of uncertainty,Roy at last stopped, and, putting his arm round his sister's waist, saidthat he had lost himself altogether! Poor Nelly, whose heart had beengradually sinking, fairly broke down; she hid her face in her brother'sbosom, and wept.
"Come now, don't do that, dear Nell," said Roy, tenderly, "I'll tell youwhat we shall do--we'll camp in the snow! We have often done it closeto the house, you know, for fun, so we'll do it now in earnest."
"But it's so dark and cold," sobbed Nelly, looking round with a shudderinto the dark recesses of the forest, which were by that time enshroudedby the gathering shades of night; "and I'm _so_ hungry too! Oh me! what_shall_ we do?"
"Now _don't_ get so despairing," urged Roy, whose courage rose inproportion as his sister's sank; "it's not such an awful business afterall, for father is sure to scour the woods in search of us, an' if weonly get a comfortable encampment made, an' a roarin' fire kindled, why,we'll sit beside it an' tell stories till they find us. They'll be sureto see the fire, you know, so come--let's to work."
Roy said this so cheerfully that the child felt a little comforted,dried her eyes, and said she would "help to make the camp."
This matter of making an encampment in the snow, although laboriouswork, was by no means a novelty to these children of the backwoods.They had often been taught how to do it by Cousin Walter and LarryO'Dowd, and had made "playing at camps" their chief amusement in finewinter days. When, therefore, they found themselves compelled to"camp-out" from necessity, neither of them was at a loss how to proceed.Roy drew a circle in the snow, about three yards in diameter, at thefoot of a large tree, and then both set to work to dig a hole in thisspace, using their snow-shoes as shovels. It took an hour's hard workto reach the ground, and when they did so the piled-up snow all roundraised the walls of this hole to the height of about six feet.
"Now for bedding," cried Roy, scrambling over the walls of their campand going into the woods in search of a young pine-tree, while Nelly satdown on the ground to rest after her toil.
It was a dark night, and the woods were so profoundly obscured, that Royhad to grope about for some time before he found a suitable tree.Cutting it down with the axe which always hung at his girdle, hereturned to camp with it on his shoulder, and cut off the small softbranches, which Nelly spread over the ground to the depth of nearly halfa foot. This "pine-brush," as it is called, formed a soft elasticcouch.
The fire was the next business. Again Roy went into the bush andgathered a large bundle of dry branches.
"Now, Nelly, do you break a lot of the small twigs," said Roy, "and I'llstrike a light."
He pulled his firebag from his belt as he spoke, and drew from it flint,steel, and tinder. No one ever travels in the wilds of which we writewithout such means of procuring fire. Roy followed the example of hiselder companions in carrying a firebag, although he did not, like them,carry tobacco and pipe in it.
Soon the bright sparks that flew from the flint caught on the tinder.This was placed in a handful of dry grass, and whirled rapidly rounduntil it was fanned into a flame. Nelly had prepared another handful ofdry grass with small twigs above it. The light was applied, the fireleaped up, more sticks were piled on, and at last the fire roaredupward, sending bright showers of sparks into the branches overhead,lighting the white walls of the camp with a glow that caused th
em tosparkle as with millions of gems, and filling the hearts of the childrenwith a sensation of comfort and gladness, while they stood before theblaze and warmed themselves, rubbing their hands and laughing with glee.
No one, save those who have experienced it, can form any conception ofthe cheering effect of a fire in the heart of a dark wood at night. Royand Nelly quite forgot their lost condition for a short time, in theenjoyment of the comforting heat and the bright gladsome blaze. Thebrother cut firewood until he was rendered almost breathless, the sisterheaped on the wood until the fire roared and leaped high above theirheads. Strange though it may appear to some, the snow did not melt.The weather was too cold for that; only a little of that which wasnearest the fire melted--the snow walls remained hard frozen all round.Roy soon sat down to rest, as close to the fire as he could withoutgetting scorched; then Nelly seated herself by his side and nestled herhead in his breast. There they sat, telling stories and gazing at thefire, and waiting for "father to come."
Meanwhile Robin and his comrade ranged the forest far and near indesperate anxiety. But it was a wide and wild country. The childrenhad wandered far away; a high ridge of land hid their fire from view.Moreover, Robin, knowing the children's usual haunts, had chanced to gooff in the wrong direction. When night set in the hunters returned toFort Enterprise to procure ammunition and provisions, in order tocommence a more thorough and prolonged search. Poor Mrs Gore still satbeside the cold and untasted feast, and there the hunters left her,while they once more plunged into the pathless wilderness to search forthe lost ones on that luckless New Year's Day.