“I hope we find our stores at the cache undisturbed,” said Dick, while resting. “I am hungry for a change of diet. As soon as we get there I’m going to make some biscuits and boil some beans.”
“Gosh, but a plateful of beans would be fine!” cried Tom. “I can tell you what,” he added reflectively; “you want to do without things to learn their real value.”
On they went once more, this time slower than before, because both Sam and Jasper Grinder showed great signs of weariness. They had to move around a long bend of the stream, and for fear of getting into a deep drift the guide did not dare to make a short cut. They passed the pole set up by John Barrow and Dick at the forks of the stream, and then headed directly for where the cache was located.
“When we get settled we can put up a regular hut,” said John Barrow. “Then we can be as comfortable, almost, as at home.”
“I’m anxious to locate the treasure,” said Tom, “We can—Gracious me! Look there!”
They had come in sight of the cache, and now beheld two great black bears standing over the loose stones, doing their best to scratch them away and get at the party’s stores!
CHAPTER XXVII
BRINGING DOWN TWO BEARS
“Bears!” burst out Sam, and started back in alarm.
“Bears!” shrieked Jasper Grinder, and turned as pale as death. “Oh, somebody save me!” He wanted to run, but he was in such a tremble he could not, and sank on his knees in the snow in terror.
Crack! It was the report of John Barrow’s rifle, and one of the bears was hit full in the left eye. Crack! went the piece Dick carried, and the other bear was hit in the neck. Then Tom fired the shotgun which had been found on Jasper Grinder, and the bear Dick had hit was wounded in the side.
Of course there followed a terrible uproar, and in a twinkle both bears left the pile of rocks and came toward those who had wounded them. The one that had been wounded in the eye was mortally hit, however, and staggered in a heap before he had gone ten paces.
But the second bear was full of fight, and his course was directly for Tom. Before the lad could run the beast was almost on top of him.
“Dodge him!” called out Dick. “Dodge him, Tom!”
“Shoot him, somebody!” yelled back Tom. “Shoot him, quick!”
And then he dodged behind some nearby brush. But the bear was almost as quick, and ran directly into the brushwood, to face him on the opposite side.
By this time John Barrow had the rifle reloaded, and now he skirted the brushwood, followed by Dick. Crack! went the rifle again, just as bruin was about to pounce upon Tom. But the bullet merely clipped the hair on the bear’s back, and in a twinkle the beast was on Tom and had the lad down.
With his heart in his throat, Dick made a leap with the shotgun. Bang! went the piece, when he was not over three yards from the bear. The charge entered the beast’s ear, and with a snort he rolled over and over in the snow, sending it flying in every direction.
Freed of the bear, Tom lost no time in scrambling to his feet. Soon the struggles of the beast ceased, and they knew he was either dying or dead. To make sure, John Barrow stepped in, hunting knife in hand, and plunged the blade into his throat. Then the other bear was served in the same fashion.
The fight had been of short duration, yet the peril had been extreme, and after it was over poor Tom found he could scarcely stand. Dick led him to a rock and set him down, asking him if he was hurt.
“I got a scratch on the arm, but I reckon it’s not much,” was the faint answer. “But it was a close call, wasn’t it?”
“Those bears must have been awfully hungry, or they wouldn’t have put up such a fight,” said the guide. “Their being at the cache proves they wanted food.”
“Well, we’ve got the food now,” returned Dick grimly. “We’ll have all the bear steaks and roasts anybody wants.”
“Yes, and I can tell you a juicy steak will just be boss!” put in Sam enthusiastically.
It was seen that Tom was hurt more than he cared to admit, and the others lost no time in building a big camp-fire, that they might warm themselves, while Dick took off his brother’s coat, rolled up his shirt-sleeves, and bandaged an ugly scratch with a bit of linen.
“You can help here,” said John Barrow to Jasper Grinder. “I’ll fix it as your duty to keep the fire a-goin’. There is a hatchet and there is the brushwood. Don’t let the fire go down, or I’m afraid there won’t be enough heat for cooking your supper.” And the guide smiled grimly.
At this indirect threat Jasper Grinder scowled. But he did not dare to complain, and was soon at work cutting brushwood and dragging it to the spot.
“Gosh, but he’s not used to hard work,” was Sam’s whispered comment. “I’ll wager he doesn’t like that for a cent.”
“It’s time he was set to work doing something,” answered Dick. “It will keep him from getting into mischief.”
As late as it was, and although all were tired out from their long walk through the deep snow, they found it necessary to construct some shelter for the night. The guide located a number of cedars growing close together, and this spot was cleaned out and made as comfortable as circumstances permitted. The fire was shoved over to the new location, and then John Barrow cut up one of the bears and procured a big juicy steak for supper. It is needless to say that all enjoyed the treat set before them, even Jasper Grinder eating his full share.
“We’ll hang the meat up on a tree,” said John Barrow. “If we don’t some hungry foxes or other wild animals will surely be after it.” And procuring the necessary ropes, he flung them over some limbs and all hauled the carcasses up, Tom, of course, being excused from the task, because of his wounded arm.
The wind had gone down, and when all retired within the shelter not a sound but the merry crackling of the fire broke the stillness around them. In front of the camp was a long stretch of the pond, now thickly covered with snow; in the rear a slope of a mountain, rock-ribbed and covered with cedars and hemlock. To the left was located one of the branches of the river and a hundred yards distant was a second branch.
At first John Barrow had thought to set a guard for the night, but as the spot seemed free from danger for the time being, this was dispensed with, and all went to bed, to sleep soundly until sunrise.
“And now for the treasure hunt!” cried Sam, who was among the first to awaken. “It’s just a perfect day, and we ought to accomplish a good deal, if we set to work right after breakfast.”
He talked freely, for Jasper Grinder was still asleep—snoring lustily in a corner of the shelter. John Barrow was already outside, boiling coffee, broiling another bear steak, and preparing a pot of beans for cooking. He had likewise set some bread for raising.
“Goin’ to give you a breakfast as is a breakfast,” said the guide; with a broad smile. “Reckon all of you are ready for it, eh?”
“I am,” said Dick. “Phew! but this mountain air does give one a tremendous appetite!”
While Jasper Grinder still slept Dick brought forth the precious map and studied the description, and also the translation of the French text into English, which Randolph Rover had made for them.
“‘To find the box of silver and gold, go to where Bear Pond empties into Perch River,’” he read. “Well, we are at this spot, or, at least, at one of the spots. It may mean this branch, and it may mean one of several others.”
“We can try one branch after another,” put in Sam. “Go on with the description.”
“‘Ten paces to the west is a large pine tree which was once struck by lightning,’” continued Dick. He looked around. “I don’t see any tree like that around here.”
“You must remember, my lad, that that writin’ was put down years ago,” said John Barrow. “More’n likely if the tree was struck an’ blasted, it’s fallen long ago, and the spring freshets carried it down the ri
ver.”
“That’s true,” said Sam, with a falling look. “But, anyway, we ought to be able to locate the stump.”
“Yes, we ought to be able to do that.”
“I’m going to locate it now,” cried Sam, and stalked off to where the pond emptied into the stream. From this spot he stalked ten paces westward, and of a sudden disappeared from view.
“Help!” he cried.
“Hullo, Sam’s disappeared!” cried Dick, and ran toward the spot.
“Look out!” sang out John Barrow. “There may be a nasty hole there!”
Nevertheless, he too went forward, and they soon beheld Sam floundering in snow up to his neck. He had stepped into a hollow between the rocks, and it took him some time to extricate himself from the unpleasant position.
“Oh, my, what a bath!” he exclaimed ruefully, as he tried to get the snow from out of his collar and his coat-sleeves. “I—I didn’t think of a pitfall like that!”
“You want to be careful how you journey around here,” cautioned John Barrow. “If that hollow had been twice as deep the snow might have smothered you to death.”
“I will be careful,” answered Sam. “I don’t want any more snow down my back and up my coat-sleeves,” and he hurried back to the camp-fire to warm himself.
By this time Tom was outside, and he was followed by Jasper Grinder, and presently all sat down close to the blaze to enjoy the generous breakfast the guide had provided. Tom said that his arm was a little stiff, but that otherwise he felt as well as ever.
CHAPTER XXVIII
TWO FAILURES
What to do with Jasper Grinder was a problem which none of the boys knew how to solve. They were exceedingly sorry that he was among them, but as it would be impossible to send him off alone in that deep snow, they felt that they would have to make the best of the situation.
“I move we make him stay around the camp,” suggested Tom. “He can watch our stores, keep the fire furnished with wood, and do some of the cooking.”
“He may kick at playing servant girl,” said Sam.
“If he kicks, let him clear out.”
“I think Tom is right,” put in Dick. “We don’t want him along while we are trying to locate the treasure.”
“He may slip away with our things—if he finds any trace of Baxter’s party,” went on Sam. “And we can’t afford to lose anything more. One sled-load is enough. We’ll be wanting some of those other things before long.”
“I don’t believe that other party is around here,” said John Barrow. “We had better leave the man at the fire. We can keep our eyes open for the enemy—as you call ‘em.”
So it was arranged, and Dick told the former teacher. Jasper Grinder said but little in return, but asked about the possibility of any more wild beasts turning up.
“I don’t want to be left alone to face another couple of bears,” he said. “They would do their best to chew me up!”
“We will leave a gun in camp,” said Dick. “If you see a bear coming, you can climb a tree and keep him off with the gun. If we hear a shot, we’ll come back just as quickly as we can. But, Grinder, I want you to understand that you aren’t to play us false,” went on the eldest Rover. “If you do we’ll have no mercy on you, remember that!”
Half an hour later the boys and their guide set off on their first hunt for the treasure. With great care John Barrow led the way over the rocks and other rough places. He carried a long pole, which he plunged in the snow before him whenever he was afraid there was a hollow ahead. Soon they gained the spot where Dick thought the blasted tree might be located.
The snow was scraped away, first in one direction and then another, until a spot several yards in diameter was cleared. No tree-stump was brought to light, although they found a slight hollow in which were several big roots.
“This might have been the tree once,” said John Barrow meditatively. “Years make great changes, you know. The trees fall, rocks and dirt slide down hill, and that makes a big difference in the looks o’ things.”
“All we can do is to follow the directions on the map,” said Dick. “I think we’ll be bound to strike the right clew, sooner or later. Let us follow this one and see where it leads to.”
“What’s the next directions?” questioned Tom.
“‘Go due southwest from the pine tree sixty-two paces,’” answered Dick, reading from the translation given him. “Which is southwest, Mr. Barrow?”
“Soon tell ye that,” answered the guide, and brought forth his pocket compass. “That way.” And he pointed with his arm.
With the compass to guide them they set off, the guide in the lead once more, and Dick counting off the sixty-two paces with great care. The way was up a hillside and over half a dozen rough rocks, and then into a hollow where the snow was up to their waists.
“No use of talking, this is treasure-hunting under difficulties,” was Sam’s comment. “Perhaps we would have done better had we left the hunt till summer time.”
“And let Baxter get ahead of us?” put in Tom. “Not much!” He turned to Dick. “What’s the next directions on the paper?”
“There ought to be a flat rock here, backed up by a sharp-pointed one,” answered the eldest Rover. “I don’t see anything of a sharp-pointed rock, do you? The flat rock may be under us.”
“No sharp-pointed rock within a hundred feet of here,” answered Sam, gazing around. He began scraping away the snow. “Dirt under us, too.”
“That settles it, then. Trial No. 1 is a failure. Mr. Barrow, we’ll have to try the next stream.”
“So it would seem, Dick. Well, you boys mustn’t expect too easy work o’ it. A big treasure aint picked up every day.”
“The trouble of it is, we don’t know how much of a treasure it is,” said Tom. “For all we know, it may be but a few hundred dollars—not enough to pay us, really, for our trouble.”
“Well, even a few hundred dollars aint to be sneezed at.”
“We did much better out West, when we located our mining claim,” said Dick. “But then we came up here for fun as much as for treasure.”
The tramp to where the next stream leading from Bear Pond was located was by no means easy. They had to crawl around a tangled mass of brushwood and over more rough rocks, until they gained the bosom of the pond itself. Then they skirted the shore for several hundred yards.
“Hold on!” cried Dick suddenly. “Rabbits!” And up came his gun, and he blazed away. Sam also fired, and between them they brought down four rabbits, which had just run out of a hollow log a short distance ahead.
“Good shots!” cried the guide enthusiastically. “Couldn’t have been better. I see you are used to hunting. Many a city chap would have missed ‘em entirely. I had one feller up here year before last wanted to bring down big game, but when he saw a deer he got the shakes and didn’t think of shootin’ till the game was out o’ sight.”
The four rabbits were plump and heavy, and the boys shouldered them with much satisfaction. Then the onward course was resumed, until Dick again called a halt.
“Here is where we’ll make trial No. 2,” he said. “Now see if any of you can locate the blasted tree in this neighborhood.”
All began to search around in various directions, and presently Sam let out a call.
“Here’s a fallen tree!”
“Struck by lightning?” queried Dick.
“I don’t know about that. Perhaps Mr. Barrow can tell us.”
The others walked over, and the guide cleared the snow from the upper end of the fallen timber.
“Not much signs of being struck by anything but the wind,” he announced. “Still, I aint sure.”
“We’ll try from this point, anyway,” said Tom. “No use of missing any chance, however small.” And on this the others agreed.
Once again they began to pa
ce off the ground as before. Here the task was as difficult as ever, as they had to pass through some timber thickly intergrown with brush.
“I suppose in Goupert’s time this timber was small,” observed the guide.
The tramping around was beginning to tire them, and soon Sam had to stop to rest and get back his wind.
“I feel like a regular snow-plow,” he gasped. “Tell you what, it takes the wind right out of a chap.”
“You rest while we go ahead,” suggested Tom, but Sam did not wish to do this.
“Not much! If the treasure is going to be found, I want to be on deck!” he cried.
Presently they we’re at it again, Dick pacing off the steps as carefully as ever. They had still fifteen paces to go when John Barrow came to a stop with a sniff of disgust.
“Wrong ag’in!”
“How so?”
“This is leadin’ us right out on the pond.”
“I declare, so it is!” murmured Dick. “We started due southwest, didn’t we?”
“To a hair, lad. To tell the truth, I didn’t take much to this trail from the start. To my mind this stream is a new one. I think the next outlet is one of the old-timers.”
Once more they held a consultation, and Tom asked how far it was to the next stream.
“Right over yonder rise o’ ground,” answered the guide. “But hadn’t you better wait till after dinner before ye tackle it?”
Dick consulted his watch.
“I declare! Quarter to twelve!” he exclaimed. “No wonder I’m feeling hungry.”
“I was getting hungry myself,” said Tom “But I wasn’t going to be the first to stop. What shall we do—go back to camp?”
“Yes,” said Dick. “I don’t like the idea of leaving Jasper Grinder there all day alone.”
“Nor I,” came from the other Rovers.
John Barrow was asked to lead them back by the shortest route, and they started quarter of an hour later, after all had had a chance to rest and get back their wind.
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