CHAPTER XXVI
DAYS OF WAITING
With the coming of night a strong wind sprang up, and by ten o'clock it was blowing a gale. The wind caused the house to rock and groan, and for the travelers sound sleep was out of the question. The man in charge, however, had experienced such a condition of affairs before and did not appear to mind it.
"Some great winds here at times," he said to Granbury Lapham. "Once the top of the house was blown off and sailed away down into the valley."
"Excuse me, but I don't want to be here at such a time, don't you know," answered the Englishman.
The wind increased steadily, and at midnight it was blowing so furiously that Dave thought the shelter might go over. He went towards the door, to find a quantity of snow sifting in above the sill.
"Hello, it must be snowing again!" he remarked. "That's too bad, for it will make traveling worse than ever."
It was snowing, and the downfall continued all night and half of the next day. The wind piled it up against the house until it reached the roof, burying two of the windows completely from sight.
"This is a regular North Pole experience," remarked Roger, as he bustled around in the morning, trying to get warm. "I don't know that I want to go much further north."
"Don't want to become an arctic explorer, then?" queried Granbury Lapham.
"Not much! Say, stir up the fire, or I'll be frozen stiff."
Wood was piled on the fire, and soon a pot of steaming coffee made all feel better. When the man in charge went out to look at the sheep in the various folds Dave went with him. The air was filled with snow, and it was very dark.
"This is terrible," said Dave, on returning. He was thinking of his father and the others of the exploring party.
"Land of the Midnight Sun," returned the senator's son, laconically.
"The man says they'll not return to-day," said Granbury Lapham. "It would not be safe on the mountain trail."
"I thought as much," answered Dave. "Well, all we can do, I suppose, is to wait." And he heaved a deep sigh.
The day passed slowly, for the place afforded nothing in the way of amusement, and even if it had, Dave was too much worried about his father to be interested. All went out among the sheep and saw them fed. The folds were long, low, and narrow, and the occupants huddled together "just like a flock of sheep," as Roger remarked with a grin.
"What timid creatures they are," said he, a httle later. "I suppose you can do almost anything with them."
"Not with the rams," answered Dave. And then he went on: "Do you remember Farmer Cadmore's ram and how we put him in Job Haskers' room:
"I don't believe these animals are quite so ugly," said the senator's son, and went up to one of the rams in question. The animal backed away a few feet, then of a sudden it leaped forward, lowered its head, and sent Roger sprawling on his back.
"Wow!" grunted the youth. "Ho! chase him off!" And he lost no time in rolling over and getting out of harm's way. "Gracious, but that was a crack in the stomach, all right!" he groaned.
"He's what you can call a battering-ram," observed Dave.
"Yes, and a ram-bunctious one at that."
"Don't ram-ble in your talk, Roger."
"If he goes on another ram-page I won't ramble, I'll run."
"Say, this joke has too many ram-ifications for me, let us drop it," said Dave, and with a merry laugh both lads changed the subject.
The hours dragged by slowly. At noon they took their time eating a meal that all hands prepared. Fortunately they had with them a few canned goods, which gave them something of a change in their diet.
When night came again the wind arose once more. But now the house was so completely buried in the snow that it was scarcely touched. Dave was worn out and slept soundly, and the others did not awaken him until nearly nine o'clock.
"Any news?" was his first question on arising.
"Nothing," answered Granbury Lapham. "Porter, I am growing worried," he added, seriously.
"I think we have good cause to worry, Mr. Lapham. It is no joke to be out on a mountain top in such weather as this."
"The man here tells me there are several shelters up there, one built between the rocks where the wind cannot touch it. But for all that I am worried."
"Do you suppose they have enough food with them?"
"They should know enough to go well supphed."
All of that day and the next went by, and still nobody appeared at the sheep-station. Another snowstorm was brewing, and when it came the air was so filled with it that nobody could venture outside. The young Americans and the Englishman paced the floor of the shelter impatiently, but could do nothing. Their food was limited, and the tobacco for Granbury Lapham's pipe ran low, which caused the man additional trouble.
"I can get along with a poor meal, but I must have my smoke," he said.
A day later they were seated around the fire discussing the situation when Roger gave a cry.
"Well, I never!"
"What's up now?" asked Dave.
"Why, we've gotten into a new year and nobody ever noticed it!"
"By Jove, that's so!" answered Granbury Lapham. "Well, here's a Happy New Year to all of you."
"A poor beginning makes a good ending, they say," said Dave. "Let us hope that proves true in this instance." He was sorry he had not been in a position to send New Year greetings to those at home, and especially to Jessie.
Sunday passed drearily, and also Monday. On Tuesday it began to clear and the wind dropped entirely. Then the house was opened and they went forth, and the man in charge busied himself with his sheep. Two of the animals had died from the cold, and one had been trampled to death in the huddling together to keep warm.
"Thank fortune, the horses are all right," said Roger, after an inspection.
With the coming of comparatively good weather they watched eagerly for the return of the exploring party. The sheep-station keeper pointed out to them where the mountain trails ran and told them the party must come by way of one of them, for to descend in any other manner would be impossible.
"I really can't see how they are going to get down in such a snow," was Dave's comment. "Why, in some places it must be ten feet deep or more."
"The wind has swept some places clear," was Granbury Lapham's answer. "As far as possible they'll stick to those cleared spots."
"It must be fearfully slippery," said Roger. "And if any of them takes a tumble" He did not finish.
The day was coming to a close when Dave, who was still on the watch, uttered a shout.
"I see somebody, up on yonder trail!" he cried. "One, two, three of them!"
"Only three?" queried Granbury Lapham.
"That is all, so far."
All ran out and looked to where Dave pointed. Three men were coming along the trail slowly. Sometimes they would be in snow up to their waists, and then again they could be seen crawling cautiously over the icy rocks which had been swept clear of snow.
"If we only had a field-glass!" murmured Dave. He wondered if one of the men could be his father.
The men were only in sight a few minutes, then some projecting rocks hid them from view. The man in charge of the sheep-station was questioned, and he told them It would take the men on the mountain a good two hours to get down to the house, as the trail wound around considerably to avoid several dangerous cliffs.
"Let us go out to meet them," said Dave. "I can't stand this hanging around doing nothing."
"All right, I'll go with you," answered his chum.
Granbury Lapham was also anxious; and in a few minutes the three started out, along a road the sheep-station keeper pointed out. It was now dark, but they kept to the road with ease, as it ran between several patches of stunted pines.
No words can describe the feeling that filled Dave's heart. Was he to meet his father at last? At times he trembled like a leaf just to think of it.
His eyes were on the alert, and after trudging along for half an hour he made out several forms approaching down the mountain trail. He set up a shout and so did his companions, and presently came an answering call.
In a few minutes the two parties were within speaking distance. Dave gave each of the three newcomers a searching look, and his heart sank. Not one of them was his father.
The three men were the Norwegian guide and two individuals named Hausermann and Davis. They were almost exhausted by their journey, and begged to be conducted to the sheep-station and given something to eat before telling their story.
"But my brother—what of him?" demanded Granbury Lapham.
"Who is your brother?" asked Samuel Hausermann.
"Philip Lapham, the head of this expedition."
"Oh, so you are Philip's brother. Well, he is safe—at least he was when we left him. He hurt his knee a little, slipping over some rocks, but it didn't amount to much."
"And what of my father, David Porter?" put in Dave, anxiously. "He was with you, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was with us," answered Samuel Hausermann. "But he" The man stopped speaking and looked at his companions.
"But what? Oh, don't say something has happened to him!" cried Dave, and a sudden chill took possession of his heart.
"We're hoping he is safe," said Charles Davis. "You see, he went out yesterday, to look for some food. It was very slippery on the rocks and the wind knocked him down and rolled him over a cliff."
"And then" Dave could hardly speak.
"We tried to get to him, but couldn't," said Samuel Hausermann. "Our rope wasn't long enough. Then he tried to climb up the cliff, but the snow seemed to blind him and he lost his grip, went down, and disappeared over another cliff about a hundred feet below. And that's the last we saw or heard of him."