Dave Porter in the Far North Part 41

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 supplied."

All of that day and the next went by, and still n.o.body appeared at the sheep-station. Another snowstorm was brewing, and when it came the air was so filled with it that n.o.body 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 n.o.body 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 pa.s.sed 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-gla.s.s!" 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."

CHAPTER XXVII

DAVE STRIKES OUT ALONE