The Bungalow Boys in the Great Northwest

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XX.

  BURIED ALIVE.

  It was Monday who broke the silence that followed.

  "Dat right, boss," he said. "In old time me come here wid whaler we goon stone lots of time."

  "All same stone in our country," added Tuesday.

  Lake stared at them with a dropped jaw. It was plain to see he wasastonished.

  "You've crossed by this stone?" he asked sharply.

  But Monday shook his head.

  "No," he said, "but some time we come here and rock on him."

  For some reason or other Bully Banjo seemed mightily relieved at this.

  "Waal," he said, "it's a simple thing, arter all. Jes' a matter ofbalance. But I tell yer it took nerve ther first time me an' Zeb crossedover, although we knew the rock would work--at least, the sealer wottold us about ther mine told us that ther thing was safe. And now,perfesser, ef you've no objection, we'll jes' send one of yer blacksacross since they're used ter it, an' when they land safe on the ledgeit'll give ther rest of you courage."

  "Monday, do you mind attempting this?" asked the professor. Thekind-hearted scientist would rather have tried the experimenthimself--risky as it seemed--than compel one of his servants to gounwillingly. But he was under no such compulsion. Monday gave a broadgrin that showed his white teeth in an expression of almost childishpleasure.

  "Me like go, boss," he said.

  "All right, then. Up with yer," ordered Lake brusquely. "I don't wantter fool away too much time hyar, but I jes' had ter know about thetgold afore we sail."

  "Then you mean to sail soon?" asked the professor, as Monday clamberedup the rough sides of the rock.

  "Ter-morrer, I reckon," was the rejoinder. "Yer see thet them boys uvmine are getting pretty ugly. Thet's one reason why I don't want tospend too long a time hyarabouts."

  "Good heaven!" exclaimed the professor at the thought of his boy leftbehind in the camp. "You surely don't fear an outbreak of trouble whileyou're gone."

  "No," rejoined Lake. "Frankly I don't, but you kain't mos' genallyallers tell. Howsomever, I kalkerlate thet Zeb Hunt kin tackle anytrouble thet comes along."

  "I sincerely hope so," said the professor, somewhat reassured. He thenturned with the rest to watch with rapt attention what was transpiringon the rocking stone.

  Monday had now almost reached the summit, and under his weight the bigstone was tipping gradually outward till the part of it he had reachedhung above the gulch. It descended as steadily as the arm of asemaphore, and, although the experience appeared to be a terrifying one,the black was smiling as though he enjoyed it.

  As the point of the stone--which, as has been said, wascone-shaped--touched the rock ledge Monday nimbly leaped from it andstood on the narrow shelf of stone. The fellow, like most islanders, wasas agile as a goat. He smiled broadly back at his companions who,however, were not looking at him, but at the stone, which, relieved ofits weight, now tilted back into position again as if actuated by somehidden machinery.

  "Wonder how that old sealer felt the first time he tried it?" mused theprofessor.

  "Kind er skeery like, I reckon," said Simon Lake. "I guess he----"

  But Tom interrupted him with a sharp question. It was odd, but the ideawhich had just struck the boy had not as yet occurred to the others.

  "How do you get back again?"

  Lake laughed.

  "Waal, yer see thar's a trail up thet cliff that leads to ther top. Frumthar thar's a path thet leads to a cove the 'tother side of the island.Thar's mighty shallow water close in shore thar, so we kain't bring therschooner round, but Zeb Hunt an' me keep a boat thar so that when we getthrough in ther cave we'll cut across the other half of ther island androw home in ther boat."

  That solved the mystery which for an instant had perplexed them all.Lake, who seemed to be in high spirits, confided to them that all thesesecrets had been contained in the map of the place the old sealer hadgiven him. Not knowing Lake's character, our party wondered a good dealat his flow of spirits for--except when he had his banjo in hand--he wasgenerally taciturn and sullen. They did not know that danger acted onhim like wine on some men. Affairs at the camp were far more criticalthan he had let them know. That morning Lake had received a notethreatening his life if he did not immediately set sail. It wascharacteristic of the man that this only made him delay the more.

  "The varmints. I'll teach 'em," he had muttered, as he tore the missiveinto shreds.

  But the realization that mutiny was imminent had been the real reasonfor his visit that morning to the gold-bearing rocks. He wished to makesure that they were as valuable as he believed, and if they proved to beso he was quite cold-blooded enough to sail off and abandon themutineers to their fate. Returning to the island at some later date, hewould ransack it of its precious metal at his leisure.

  Tuesday followed his fellow-countryman over. He made the passage inperfect safety, fairly squealing with delight as the big rock tippedwith him. Then came Tom's turn. He also made the crossing withoutaccident, as did the professor and Mr. Chillingworth. Simon Lake camelast, carrying his weapons and a sack of tools which he had brought--adrill and such implements--the better for boring and obtaining samples.

  When they all stood on the ledge and watched the big stone risemajestically for the last time, Tom was conscious of a sinkingsensation. What if something had happened to the trail--if it wereblocked or something. They would inevitably be prisoners till death cameto their relief. However, there was no time to dwell on gloomy thoughtslike these.

  While they had been making the passage of the gulch a change had set inin the weather. It had been bright when they set out, but now darkclouds had rolled up, obscuring the sun and casting gloom into thedepths of the crevasse upon whose edge they stood. There was anoppressive feeling, too, in the air.

  "Thar's a storm of some kind comin' up," commented Lake, gazing overheadat the driving clouds.

  "Thunder?" asked the professor sniffing the heavy, sultry air.

  "Looks like it. Ef it is one, we'll be glad of shelter. We git somehummers daown in these parts, I kin tell yer. They don't come often, butwhen they do, by Chowder! they deliver 'em in large packages."

  As he spoke a few heavy drops of rain fell.

  "Come on. Better hurry for the cave," cried Lake, hastening forward withhis sack of tools. They followed him, keeping as close to the cliff-faceas they could. The ledge was narrow, and it was unpleasant to think ofwhat a misstep would result in.

  The cave proved to be a large one and reached back some distance intothe rock. Its floor was littered with bowlders and earth, where Lake andZeb Hunt had carried on their prospecting operations.

  The professor picked up a bit of the stuff. In the dim light they couldsee the dull glint of metal in it. Lake watched the scientist curiously.

  "Waal," he said, "haow is it?"

  "I cannot tell positively," was the rejoinder, "but if it is all likethis, it is worth considerable per ton."

  "Will she run two thousand dollars to the ton?" asked Lake curiously.

  The professor shook his head.

  "Impossible to say without adequate assaying implements."

  "Make me out a list of wot yer want and when I come back from ther nextrun I'll bring 'em with me," promised Lake.

  To Tom this speech seemed particularly ominous. It meant that there wasno intention on Lake's part of their escaping.

  "Here's a good boring," said Lake presently. He drew a lantern from thetool bag and lit it, holding it up against a place at the back of thecave which had been pecked at with a pick. To do this he had to squatdown almost doubled up in the cramped space. This brought the tip of oneof his pistol holsters against an outcropping rock and the weapon fellto the ground unnoticed by Lake, but instantly seen by Tom, who stoodclose behind. Without any very definite idea of what he meant to do withit, the boy slipped it inside his shirt. Perhaps he would have someopportunity to find use for it, he thought
vaguely.

  Lake, earnestly examining bits of rock and handing them up to theprofessor, did not notice the loss of his weapon.

  Suddenly there came an ominous growling sound from outside. It wasthunder. The storm was rapidly nearing them then.

  "Gee whillakers!" exclaimed Lake, suddenly springing erect. "Ef I ain'tforgotten ter go an' look fer thet signal."

  "What do you mean?" asked the professor.

  "Why, frum ther top uv this cliff yer kin see ther camp withfield-glasses. I brought mine along fer thet purpose. Afore I left Iagreed with Zeb thet in the event uv trubble he wuz ter hoist a redflag. Ef everything wuz all right, he was to run up the blue one. I'mgoin' up thar now afore ther storm makes it too thick."

  He hastened from the cave and, making his way along the ledge, began tomount the face of the cliff by a narrow stairway cut at a sharp inclinein the face of the acclivity. Presently he vanished at the summit. Itwas then that Tom, with shining eyes, turned to the others.

  "Our chance to escape has come!" he exclaimed.

  "How do you make that out?" asked Mr. Chillingworth listlessly.

  For reply Tom drew out his pistol.

  "We can make Lake prisoner on his return," he said eagerly, "and thenmake our way across the island to the cove in which, as he told us, hehad hidden the boat."

  "Good gracious boy!" cried the professor excitedly. "That's a good idea.A splendid one, but--what about my boy?"

  Tom, who in his excitement had quite forgotten that the son and heir ofthe Dingle fortunes was in the care of Zeb Hunt, looked thoughtful.

  "Of course, we must get him," he said. "I'll tell you," he cried, hiseyes flashing at the adventurous daring of the plan he was about topropose, "we'll make Lake prisoner and take him along with us. With himin our power, we will be in a position to make terms with the rascals.We can conceal him somewhere and refuse to give him up till we get ourliberty and the boy."

  Perhaps to any one less desperately situated the plan would haveappealed only as the forlornest kind of a forlorn hope. But to our partyit seemed feasible, and even excellently practicable.

  But as they stood discussing it in the cave mouth, there came a suddenblinding flash of lightning. Involuntarily they all stepped back withinthe cavern. The clap of thunder that followed the electrical displayshook the cliff till it vibrated again.

  "Wow! this is a real storm, sure enough!" exclaimed Tom. "I never sawsuch lightning."

  "And no rain," said the professor; "that makes it doubly bad. These dryelectrical storms are always more severe than those accompanied by aheavy downpour."

  As he spoke there came another blinding flash, accompanied by a terrificpeal of thunder. But the figure of Lake could now be seen coming downthe cliff-face on his way back to the cave. The time to put their planinto execution had arrived. Amid the turmoil of the elements, theydiscussed it. It was agreed that Tom, hiding behind a big fragment ofrock at the entrance of the cave mouth, was to level his pistol at theunsuspecting desperado as he appeared. He was then to be disarmed andtied, and the rest of their arrangements they left in an undecidedcondition till the first part of the daring program was carried out. Themain thing to do, so all hands agreed, was to capture Lake.

  Nearer and nearer came the unsuspecting leader of the Chinese runners.Tom crouched back into his place of concealment as the other came on.The rest stood close behind him. They hardly dared to breathe as thefootsteps of the man they wished to capture drew closer.

  As his form was framed in the cave mouth Tom sprang erect, holding thepistol level and pointed straight at Lake's head. He saw the rascal growwhite under his tan and open his mouth as if about to speak. But at thesame instant there came a crash that seemed as if heaven and earth werebeing devoured in one vast catastrophe. At the same time a sheet ofdazzling, burning white flame enveloped them. The figures in the cavemouth were illumined in its livid glare as if cut out of black paper.Crash followed crash. Another and another. A sensation like that of thepricking of myriad pin points ran through them. The blue lightningdarted, hissing viciously about them, bathing them in livingelectricity.

  Bewildered and stunned, Tom saw Lake's figure reel and fall backward,clutching at the rock as he fell. The boy sprang forward to catch himand save him from falling into the abyss below, when a crash thatdwarfed the others fairly stopped him in his tracks.

  There came a mighty splitting, rending sound and Tom, looking upward inthe direction from whence it came, saw the form of the great rockingstone swaying drunkenly on the bed in which it had rested securelythrough the ages.

  Suddenly the great rock mass toppled out, its black form impendingbetween the lad and the sky. The noise of its falling reverberated abovethe shriek of the storm and the thunder's loudest roar.

  Instinctively Tom tottered backward as it fell. Stunned, half deafened,and numb from the lightning, he reeled like a sick man. But even aboveit all, he could hear Lake's wild death-shriek ringing out as he plungedbackward.

  The next instant there was a shock that seemed to shake the cliff to itsmighty foundations. The dim light of the storm-shrouded day was blockedout, and at the same moment Tom lost consciousness.

  But to the others there came no such merciful blotting out of thestrange horror of the situation. In the very act of overpowering theirenemy, they had, in turn, been overwhelmed by a crushing disaster.

  The rocking stone, driven and unseated by a terrific thunderbolt, hadlost its delicate balance and toppled from its base into the abyss.

  In its fall it had wedged across the narrow gorge, blocking completelywith the weight of tons of stone the entrance to the cave.

  The castaways of Bully Banjo's island were buried alive beyond hope ofescape.