CHAPTER XVII.
AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY.
"Tom, we have missed it!"
"It looks like it, Sam."
"What we took for the river wasn't the river at all. We must be a mileor two out of the way."
"There is nothing to do but to go back," was the dismal response.
"Don't you think we might strike the river without going back?"
"We might, and then again we might not. I hardly feel like taking therisk--in this blinding snow."
With heavy hearts the brothers turned the sled around and proceeded onthe back trail, if such the way may be called. As a matter of fact, thesnow had covered their footprints completely.
The wind was now rising again, and it blew directly into their faces.Alarmed more than ever, on this account, they pushed on until poor Samwas almost winded.
"I--I can't go on so fast, no use in trying!" he panted. "I feel readyto drop!"
"I'm fagged out myself," responded Tom. "But, Sam, we can't afford torest here."
"I know that, but I've got to get my wind back somehow. The wind seemsto be awfully strong."
They rested for several minutes, and then pushed on again, Tom draggingthe sled alone. It was a bitter journey, and both would have given agood deal to have been with Dick and the guide once more.
"We missed it when we didn't keep up with them in the first place," wasTom's comment. "However, there's no use in crying over spilt milk, asthe saying goes. We must make the best of it."
"There isn't any best," grumbled Sam. "It's all worst!" And then Tomlaughed, in spite of the seriousness of the situation.
At last they gained the spot where they had first struck the brook, andhere they halted again.
"The worst of it is, there is no telling how far this brook runs beforeit empties into the Perch River," observed Tom. "We may have to go twoor three miles out of our way."
"We may as well climb up the hill again, Tom, and try to follow one ofthose trails."
"Perhaps you are right."
They talked the matter over and at last began to climb the hill, nowmore difficult than before, since the snow was several inches deeper.It took a long while to gain the top, and still longer to find the spotwhere they had left the trail.
"Here we are," said Tom, resting on a fallen tree which marked thelocality. "Now the all-important question is, which way next?"
"Tom, I believe we are getting lost," came from Sam, in a dismal tone.
"I don't think we're getting lost, Sam; we _are_ lost, no two ways aboutit. We've got to keep our eyes open and our wits about us, or we'll begetting into a first-class mess."
"It must be almost noon," went on the youngest Rover, and pulled out hiswatch. "Phew! Half-past twelve!"
"Thought I was hungry. Is there anything in this load good to eat?"
"I don't know. Let us look and see. We can't go on, hungry."
They unstrapped the load and examined it. There were blankets there andsome camp utensils, and a box containing crackers, cheese, and chippedbeef.
"Crackers and cheese will do on a pinch," said Tom. "Come, we mustn'tlose more time than is necessary."
Yet eating and resting was very pleasant, and they spent the best partof half an hour under the sheltering limbs of a big cedar tree. Bothwere dry, but eating snow did not seem to quench their thirst. The windincreased as they ate, but the snow now came down more lightly.
They decided to strike out on something of a trail running to thenorthwest. It was hard work hauling and carrying the sled over the rocksand through the bushes, and they often had to halt for breath.
"There goes something!" cried Tom presently. "Sam, did you see it?"
"I saw something, but it disappeared before I could make out what itwas."
The object had crossed their path a hundred feet ahead of them. Now itreappeared somewhat closer, and both boys saw that it was a lean andhungry-looking wolf.
"A wolf!" cried Sam.
"Wonder if I hadn't better shoot him," said Tom, unslinging his gun.
"Better save your powder, Tom. I don't believe he'll attack us--at leastnot while it is light."
"A shot might bring an answering signal from Dick," went on Tomsuddenly. "What fools we have been, not to think of that before!"
The wolf kept hidden and Tom did not shoot, expecting to see the beastreappear at any instant. On they went, keeping an eye on the bushes andtrees on both sides of them. Once they heard the patter of the wolf'sfeet on a stretch of bare rocks, but that was all.
"I'll fire a shot, anyway," said Tom at last, and aimed in the directionwhere they had heard the sounds last. To his intense surprise a yelp anda snarl followed.
"Great Caesar! I hit him after all," began Tom, and then leaped back."Look out, Sam, he's coming for us!"
Tom was right. The wolf, wounded in the left flank, had suddenlyappeared. His eyes blazed with pain and fury, and he made as if tospring upon the boys.
Tom was in front of the sled and Sam behind it. With a quick leap Tomcleared the load and took up a position beside the youngest Rover.
The wolf made the leap, but stopped short on the top of the load. As heprepared to spring again Tom swung his gun around by the barrel and hitthe wolf a smart rap on the head. The animal rolled over on the ground.
"Shoot him, Sam!"
"I will, if I can!" came from Sam, who had now unslung his gun. Taking aquick aim, he fired.
The shot proved a good one, for it took the wolf directly in the neck,just as he was scrambling to rise. Again he gave a yelp, and then beganto turn over and over in his intense pain. Of a sudden he leaped up andlanded on Tom's shoulder.
For the instant poor Tom thought his last moment had come. But as thebeast landed Sam struck it with his gun, and down it went once more,snarling viciously. Then it rolled and tossed until some brush wasgained, when it managed to hide itself and crawl away, seriously, if notmortally, wounded.
"He's gone!" came from Sam.
"Well, don't go after him," panted Tom. "Let him go and welcome. I neverwant to see him again."
"Nor I."
Both reloaded with all haste--having learned years before that it isfoolish to remain in the wilds with an empty firearm. Then they waited,to see if the wolf would return.
"Hark!" cried Sam. "Did you hear that shot, Tom?"
"I did. I think it came from that direction." And Tom pointed with hishand.
"I think so myself. It must be Dick or Mr. Barrow, firing."
"More than likely. Let us follow up the shot."
They listened, but no more shots followed, and then they went on, over astretch which was comparatively smooth and free from brushwood. Butthough they covered a quarter of a mile they saw nothing either of theriver or of their lost companions.
"We're getting lost more than ever," groaned Sam. "I declare I haven'tthe least idea where we are."
"I'm going to fire another shot," answered his brother, and proceeded todo so.
Both listened with strained ears, and soon an answering shot came back,slightly to the left of the path they had been pursuing.
"Thank fortune, we are getting closer!" cried Sam. "Come on!"
As worn out as they were, they resumed the dragging of the sled throughthe snow. Once Sam had suggested they abandon the load, but Tom wouldnot hear of this, for he knew they could not very well do without thisportion of the outfit.
The wind was blowing heavily, and high overhead they heard the tree-topscreak ominously. Once in a while a tree branch would unload itself,sending down a great mass of snow on their heads. But they pushed on,determined to rest no more until the others of the party should besighted.
Presently they came to a clearing overlooking a small pond and a streambeyond. At first Tom imagined that this was the pond they had left but ashort while before, but a second look showed him that the locality wasan entirely new one to them.
"My gracious, Tom! Get out of sight!" came in an excited whisper fromSam, and he pulled his bro
ther down behind a clump of bushes, and thendragged the sled after him.
"What do you see?" demanded Tom.
"Look across the pond. As sure as you are born, there are Dan Baxter andJasper Grinder. We've been following them instead of Dick and Mr.Barrow!"