The Camp in the Snow Part 9

"But how about the hole in the roof?" questioned Brick. "It won't do to go to bed and leave that open. The catamount might jump down on us."

"Or it might rain or snow," added Hamp.

"It won't do either," a.s.serted Jerry, "but I'm not so positive about the catamount. It will be only prudent to repair the roof to-night. Come, fellows; it won't take long."

Jerry mounted the rock, and then climbed partly out on the roof. The others procured hatchets and started toward a copse of young timber that lay behind the cabin.

"You'll need another prop or two, won't you?" asked Hamp.

"Yes, one of these is broken," Jerry replied. "Cut it thick."

Hamp chose a likely sapling and began to hack at it. Brick struck in now and then. Upon the roof Jerry rearranged the disordered layers of pine and spruce boughs. The boys antic.i.p.ated a quick completion of the work and then a much-needed sleep.

"Help! Help!"

The cry came from a pair of l.u.s.ty and vigorous lungs. Their owner was evidently some distance out on the lake and directly opposite the camp.

Jerry sprang back to the rock, and thence to the ground, landing directly between his companions.

Again the appeal for help rang out, mingled with a blood-curdling screech. Then followed a hoa.r.s.e, quavering noise that sounded only half human.

"Some one is in peril out there," exclaimed Jerry. "It must be one of those strange men. The catamount has attacked him. We have got to rescue him, fellows."

"And mighty quick, at that," added Hamp. "Come on."

The boys ran back to the cabin, where each grabbed a rifle. Then they sped down the ravine and out on the slippery ice. The strange, unearthly noise was twice repeated before they were twenty feet from land.

"It sounds like a college yell, only a good deal worse," declared Brick.

"I'll bet I know what it is," replied Hamp. "The man has no rifle, and he's trying to scare the catamount off by screeching at it. I've heard of old trappers doing that."

"And it often succeeds, too," said Jerry. "There, the fellow is calling for help again."

"Hold on, we're coming!" shouted Hamp, at the top of his voice.

An answering hail floated back on the wind, and was speedily drowned by an ear-splitting yowl from the catamount.

The boys ran on and on. As yet nothing was visible in the deep gloom ahead.

"I wish we had brought a lantern," panted Hamp.

"Too late to think of that now," replied Jerry. "We've got to face the music in the dark. If it comes to close quarters, I'll shoot at the catamount first. You fellows be ready in case I miss."

A moment later the figure of a man loomed out of the misty gray atmosphere thirty yards in advance of the boys. He was running toward them at full speed, and brandishing a gun.

When the man came a little closer, the pursuing catamount could be seen bounding along behind. Suddenly the man stopped. He turned around and yelled savagely. The beast also stopped, and squatted on the ice.

The boys now came up with the stranger, who welcomed them gladly.

"You are just in time," he panted. "I couldn't have held out much longer. My rifle dropped in the snow, and is good for nothing. Shoot the creature, if you can."

At sight of the rescuers, the catamount had swerved to one side, and was now creeping along in a half circle, evidently afraid to venture nearer.

Jerry took aim--unerringly, as he thought--and pulled the trigger. He missed, however, and when Brick and Hamp fired, with no better success, the beast retreated with great leaps.

"Don't let him get away," yelled Jerry, excitedly. "As long as he's alive, he'll give us trouble. We've got to finish him up now. Come on, fellows."

Off dashed the lad on a run, and Brick and Hamp followed. They skimmed over a dozen yards of ice and then slackened speed. Just ahead was a small, bluish spot, but none noticed it.

"Confound the beast!" exclaimed Jerry. "I never saw anything slide out of sight so quickly."

He ran on for several yards, heedless of his peril. Then he struck the thin sh.e.l.l of ice on an air-hole, and like a flash he vanished from the eyes of his horrified companions.

CHAPTER VIII.

MR. RAIKES. OF PORTLAND.

The catastrophe was one of appalling swiftness. Brick and Hamp could scarcely realize what had happened. The hole that had swallowed Jerry up yawned at their very feet.

It was less than two feet in diameter, and its edges were jagged. The surface of the deep, blue water went swirling around and around, as though an under-current existed. Doubtless there was one, and it had sucked Jerry far down. He did not reappear, though the boys strained their eyes on the fatal spot. The seconds went by--twenty--half a minute.

Hamp uttered a groan of agony.

"Jerry, Jerry!" he cried aloud.

"Look out!" exclaimed Brick, as he dragged him back. "You'll go in, too.

It's all up with poor Jerry. There's no hope--not an atom."

His voice quavered and broke; he dashed a tear from his eye. Hamp was crying, too. Loud sobs burst from his bosom. Just then the stranger reached the spot. He had seen the accident from a distance.

"Which one was it?" he demanded. "Which one? Tell me his name, quick."

It was a strange request, and he spoke in eager, excited tones. But the boys were too much concerned to notice such a trifle.

"It--it was Jerry," sobbed Hamp.

"Jerry who?"

"Jerry--Jerry Brenton."

"Brenton? Ah!"

The man's voice and manner showed intense relief.