Part 14

His knees and palms were scraped and bruised from contact with the hard floor of the cave, and several times he bumped his head against sharp, projecting points of rock. The air was dank and stuffy; but after his first wild panic had passed, Ed found that he could breathe with little real difficulty. This caused him to believe that the passageway fed a supply of air into the chamber. The belief encouraged him to hope he had not wandered far from it.

When the lad had first entered the cavern and surveyed it by the light of his candle, the place had not appeared so large. Now, as he crawled around it in the darkness, it seemed absolutely interminable.

Ed began to suspect that he had gone around it many times, and in some way had missed the outlet each time. He fastened his handkerchief in a seam of the wall, so that if he was doubling on his trail his hand would find it on the next circuit.

Many times, as he crawled along, he blamed himself for having dropped the pole. He felt some satisfaction in the knowledge that, oddly enough, he had retained possession of his rifle. For a long time he was unaware that he held it clutched in his hand; and when at last he became conscious of it, it greatly increased his confidence.

Suddenly he halted, listening intently. From the opposite side of the chamber he heard what sounded like a smothered ejaculation. He remained motionless, and, though he could not see a yard before his face, he grasped the rifle, his finger on the trigger.

Straining his ears, he thought he detected a peculiar scraping noise near the source of the first sound. Then it ceased, and, except for the noise of his own quick breathing and the pounding of his heart, all was still, and black, and gruesome.

After listening in vain for a repetition of the noise, Ed started to crawl slowly forward again. Instantly the indistinct, phantom-like voice halted him. He shuddered and sank back against the rocks. The sound subsided, and was followed by the same peculiar scraping.

He was wholly at a loss to account for it. He was certain of one thing, however, and that was that whatever made it must have just entered the cavern. He felt positive that, had there been any living thing in the cave at the time he entered, he would have seen it when his candle was lighted.

Again he reasoned that if something had just come in it must have come through the passageway, which must be, therefore, on the opposite side from him. He determined to crawl toward it and defend himself with his rifle if necessary. Anything was preferable to remaining imprisoned in this dungeon with its silent white inhabitants.

The sound was repeated more distinctly, and Ed started for it. All at once a weird, reddish glow shone forth. Involuntarily he drew back, for the light seemed ghostly and unreal.

“Ed! Oh, Ed!” came the muffled call, and he at once recognized the alarmed voice of his friend.

He uttered a cry of joy that made the cavern ring, and crawled rapidly toward the light, which he knew came from George’s candle.

“What on earth are you doing in here, and what sort of a place is it?” demanded George, when he had finally emerged from the passage.

“Wait! Put your candle right in the entrance,” urged Ed, anxiously. “I’ve been searching for that place for several hours. My, but I’m glad to see you! But say, let’s get out of here.”

“Why, what’s the matter? Now that I’m in I want to see what it’s like. Isn’t it a queer--What’s that?” shouted George, in an alarmed tone, when he spied one of the white forms.

“It’s a skeleton; there are several of them in here! Come on, let’s get out,” suggested Ed, crawling hastily into the tunnel.

“Hold on!” urged George. “They can’t hurt us.”

“I know it,” came back the stifled response from some distance up the passageway. “I’ve seen enough for me; you stay and look around.”

George held the candle high overhead and peered about the cave. He saw several bony white objects lying prostrate on the floor.

“Gee whiz, this is too blamed ‘spooky’ for me!” he cried, and quickly crawled into the tunnel after his friend.

When the lads emerged into the open air Ed told of his experience and what he had seen. For a long time they sat in front of the cave and speculated as to the fate of its silent tenants. Then they decided to hurry home and tell Ben about their discovery and ask him to accompany them on a second trip of exploration.

It was after dark when the guide returned from his visit to Westbrook. The boys showed by their manner that they had something of unusual interest to tell him. They waited impatiently while he drew off his heavy moccasins and mackinaw coat, and stood about restless and uneasy while he prepared for supper.

“Well, what is it, boys?” he laughed. “I know you have something to tell, so out with it.”

“We found a cave with a lot of skeletons in it!” George burst forth. “And Ed was in it, too; he got lost.”

For a moment Ben stood looking at them in silence. Then his eyes began to twinkle merrily, as though he suspected some sort of joke.

They noted his look of doubt, and at once hastened to reassure him.

“Honestly we did. It’s an awfully spooky sort of place, and there are a lot of figures and things carved in the rock.”

“And then those things on the floor,” added Ed.

Convinced by their earnestness, the guide frankly expressed his surprise at this unknown cave, and he asked many questions. He gave Ed a mild scolding for having ventured into such a place alone, but finally promised to go with them on the morrow.

Early next day they started for the cave. When they arrived before the entrance, Ben was puzzled to know how it could have existed for so long without his finding it. He said he had crossed over and by it many times but had never happened to notice the concealed opening.

Assured by his presence, the boys had left the rope behind as entirely unnecessary. Neither had Ben brought his rifle, for the lads declared they had seen no evidence of anything dangerous living there. The guide lighted a candle and crawled forward into the hole, closely followed by the boys.

When they reached the death-chamber, they arose and stood upright. They held aloft the lighted candles, and in the light from them were able to make out four white skeletons outlined against the gloom.

“Looks like there had been something going on here,” said Ben, as he made his way to the one propped against the wall. Ed and George did not follow him at once, and he stooped down and began examining the bony structure. “Yep, this poor fellow was plugged with three arrows,” he declared, holding up something between his fingers. “Two of them are in him, and here’s the other one on the ground.” And the guide exhibited a sharply pointed triangular-shaped piece of flint.

They examined the other forms and found evidences of wounds or arrows in each. By the side of the last they found part of a stone tomahawk, or battle-ax. Ben picked many arrow-tips from the floor of the cave and gave them to the boys for souvenirs. The boys showed him the picture writings on the wall, and he spent some time in studying them.

“Too bad we haven’t got Pete with us; he might be able to read them,” said Ben.

They found the pole and candle which George had dropped, and the guide laughed at him for having been badly frightened. Then they explored every nook and cranny. To the keen satisfaction of Ed, they found that there were no passages leading from the main room or chamber. His fears on the previous day had been groundless, had he but known it.

At last they crawled out and started for the cabin. On the way the boys plied Ben with all sorts of questions regarding the cave and the possible fate of its four occupants.

He declared that the picture-writings showed that the place had been used as a shelter by some unknown tribe of Indians many years ago. Ben thought that the four warriors whose skeletons rested in the cavern had been members of a hostile tribe. Having ventured within the borders of their enemies’ territory, they had no doubt been detected and pursued. In their flight they had accidentally come to the opening and crawled into the cave. Here, from all appearances, they had been followed and slain like rats in a trap. At least, this was Ben’s supposition, and the boys thought he was right.

The guide offered to report the find to the local paper. He promised that Ed and George should have full credit for their discovery, and declared it would probably be considered quite an important one by the State authorities.

XX A FIGHT ON THE ICE

The boys were somewhat puzzled when, on a morning late in February, they heard all kinds of weird rumblings and groans coming from the lake.

“Sounds like an earthquake,” declared Ed.

“What is it?” inquired George, turning to Ben for some explanation.

“That’s the ice talking,” laughed the guide. “The backbone of winter is broken.”

“The ice talking?” And the lads looked at each other as though they suspected Ben was making sport of them.

“Yes; you see, before it breaks up in the spring air gets underneath and rumbles and makes a big noise as it rushes along in bubbles between the ice and the water. Then the ice expands and contracts, as it thaws during the day and freezes at night. That makes it snap and crack. We say it’s talking,” he explained.

The boys immediately went down to the shore, where they heard the sounds more distinctly. The winter had passed before they realized it. Soon it would be spring. Even now the sun was quite warm, and the snow had almost disappeared from the southern slopes of the mountains. They sat in the bright sunlight, listening to the loud booming of the ice--the guns of spring shattering the icy fortress of winter.

Suddenly George touched Ed on the arm and pointed to the center of the lake.

“Look!” he cried. “What’s that?”

Ed instantly turned his eyes in the direction indicated and saw a dark-colored animal with a low body about four feet long. It was making its way leisurely across the frozen surface of the lake, and it walked with a peculiar, waddling sort of gait.

They immediately started in pursuit, and the unknown creature broke into an awkward gallop. The boys ran at top speed to overtake it; but, since there were several inches of soft, slushy snow on the ice, they were unable to gain much. They were greatly astounded when the animal threw itself flat and apparently dove through the ice. On reaching the spot, however, they saw that it had disappeared into an air-hole.

“He’ll have to come out again,” declared Ed. “You stay here, and I’ll see if I can find any other opening where he might bob up.”

Then they saw the head of their quarry appear above the ice about two hundred feet farther on. They waited until the wet, glistening body emerged from the hole, when they again started in pursuit.

“Head him off before he gets to shore!” urged George, bounding recklessly along in the uncertain footing.

The next instant he slid forward on his face into the mushy, watery mass of melting snow which covered the ice. Soaked through, and almost blinded by the water in his eyes, he rose and ran after Ed, who was gaining somewhat on the animal in front.

Shorter and shorter grew the distance between pursuers and pursued. The latter did not seem fitted for fast work over the ice, and Ed finally came up with it. It turned on him threateningly and commenced to growl fiercely. Being unarmed, he jumped quickly to one side and called a timely warning to George.

“Be careful; he’s ugly!” cried Ed.

“What a funny-looking thing it is!” said George, suddenly halting.

Evidently satisfied that it had impressed the boys by its bold stand, the animal once more turned and started toward the shore. Ed ran forward instantly to intercept it, and this time it made a rush at him.

“Look out, there!” yelled George, running up behind it.

“It’s an otter!” declared Ed. “I’ve seen pictures of them, and I’ve read about them, too. They’re mighty savage customers when they get mad. Look out! He’s coming for you!”

Finding itself surrounded, the furious animal charged first one, then the other of its pursuers. The boys, with nothing to defend themselves, were obliged to retreat before each savage onslaught. When it had driven them back a few feet, the otter, for such it was, immediately turned and attempted to resume its flight. But each time it did so one of the lads invariably managed to intercept it.

“Tell you what we’ll do,” said Ed; “you stay here and prevent him from getting to shore, and I’ll run up and get the camera. We don’t wish to kill him, and if he should escape from you it won’t matter much.”

“He can’t get away,” declared George, confidently.

“All right; keep him here till I come back.” And Ed went away at a run.

No sooner had he disappeared than the otter started for the woods. George, yelling wildly and waving his arms, endeavored to head it off, but the determined creature refused to swerve from its course. When he jumped in its path it rushed angrily at his legs and drove him out of the way. He was fast losing his wind, and the otter was rapidly nearing the protection of the bushes at the edge of the ice. Once it gained them, George knew it would be safe from pursuit. He had boasted to Ed that the animal could not get away from him, and he determined to make good the promise at any cost.

Then an idea flashed into his mind, and, reckless of all consequences, he proceeded to act upon it. Holding his heavy cap in his hand, George ran close up beside the fleeing animal; and when it turned to charge, he threw himself fearlessly upon it. The weight of his body bore the otter flat to the ice. Instantly it twisted its powerful body, and the ugly seal-like head, with its open jaws and sharp teeth, darted forward to seize its adversary.

George muzzled it with his cap, and then the desperate struggle began. The active, sinewy creature twisted and turned about in an effort to escape from the grip of the boy on its back. George, however, had secured a wrestling hold, and was not to be easily shaken off. Now that he had the jaws of the animal effectually muzzled, the lad entertained little fear of severe injury.

The otter was using its peculiarly webbed feet to claw and scratch him; but, as he had on heavy hunting-clothes, it could do little damage. It was no easy task to hold his captive and at the same time keep the cap drawn down over its head. George wished Ed would hurry back, for he was becoming tired. Besides, he was soaked through from rolling around in the slush.

Then he heard his friend calling to him; and, looking from the corner of his eye, he saw Ed running madly across the ice. He soon drew near and began shouting excitedly.

“Hang on, George; I wish to take a picture of you!” he cried, hastily bringing forth the camera. “Hold him! Hold him!” he urged, as the otter began a desperate struggle to regain its freedom.

“Say--what do you--think this is--a circus?” panted George, indignantly, while he battled valiantly with the animal beneath him.

Ed made several exposures, and then, having brought a long pole with him, ran forward to aid his friend.

“Let him go now,” he ordered.

“That’s easier said than done,” puffed George. “If I do, he’ll turn and get me before I can jump out of the way.”

“No, he won’t. When you let go, I’ll keep him off with this pole.”

“Sounds--easy--but just look--what he’s--doing now!” gasped George, as the otter renewed its struggles. “Look out! He’s--getting--away--”

Ed rushed forward with the pole and made several vicious jabs into the side of the otter. It had gained its liberty, and turned savagely on George, who was endeavoring to roll out of its reach.

“Jump up!” screamed Ed, when he had succeeded in drawing the animal’s attention to himself. He might easily have killed it, but he did not care to commit the wanton murder. In fact, the boys were much impressed by the gameness of the otter and the splendid fight it had made against them.

Once George had gained his feet, they halted the baffled creature, and Ed took more snap-shots. Then they permitted it to travel, unmolested, to the shore, and watched it disappear into the bushes.

Ed turned to survey his friend, and immediately broke into peals of laughter.

“George, you are certainly a sight! Do hurry to the cabin and get some dry clothes on,” he urged, anxiously. “Are you hurt?”

“Not a bit,” laughed George. “And say, Ed, didn’t I tell you he wouldn’t get away from me?”

“You did, and you certainly made good. But let’s hurry--you must be shivering.”

While George was changing to dry clothes Ed told Ben about the thrilling experience. The guide listened quietly, a faint smile flitting about the corners of his mouth.

Then, turning to George, he said: “I suppose you fellows will keep on bumping into trouble till something comes along and takes a wallop out of you.”

After dinner they sat in the cabin talking, and Ben suddenly asked:

“What about ‘Snow Ball’? I guess his time is up.”

The boys looked at the big white owl sitting motionless on his perch. They had become quite fond of him, in spite of his unfriendly ways. Several times his savage nature had asserted itself. Once he had caught Ed’s thumb in his powerful beak and pinched it painfully. They held no enmity against him for these offenses, however, and instantly agreed to his release.

“Let’s take him outside so I can get his picture before we allow him to go,” proposed Ed.

“All right; but remember this is your party, and I’m distinctly out of it,” warned George, soberly.

Ben carried the owl outdoors and lifted it to a low branch of an evergreen. Ed took several pictures of the handsome bird, whose white plumage showed to splendid advantage against the dark background of the tree.

When sufficient exposures had been made Ben removed the chain and gave “Snow Ball” his freedom. Then they sat in the doorway to see what the newly released prisoner would do. For some time he remained on his perch, slowly turning his head and blinking his eyes. He appeared to be pondering the unexpected situation in which he found himself.

“I guess he feels sorry to leave,” said George.

“He’ll go directly,” promised the guide. “He’s just trying to remember the way home.”

At last some jays discovered him and at once began a furious uproar. They flew to the branches near him, and scolded until they attracted others of their kind. The owl watched them with warlike eyes and snapped its beak threateningly.

“Poor old ‘Snow Ball,’ I’m afraid your troubles have commenced,” said Ed.

The jays began darting at him and flying at his face. Finally, hissing angrily, “Snow Ball” took wing and flapped silently away into the forest.

“Good-by, old boy!” called Ed.

“And good luck!” added George.

Ben told them the owl would soon depart to its summer home in the far north. But by falling into their hands it had fared better than it might had it been obliged to provide for itself during the long, cold weeks of winter.

A balmy south breeze set in late in the afternoon, and that night it thawed. They heard the drip of melting snow from the eaves of the cabin as they lay in their bunk.

“I’m glad it didn’t come off cold after we turned old ‘Snow Ball’ out,” said George. “Although I don’t suppose it would have bothered him any if it had.”

“No, I don’t believe so; but I’m glad it’s warmer for his first night back in the woods.”

“Winter is killed,” declared Ben, next morning. “Thawed all night, and it’s melting like blazes now. Of course, we may have some more cold weather, and snow, too, but it won’t last.”

The boys found the snow soft and watery, and where it had been well trodden down before the door it had disappeared entirely and left a square of muddy-brown earth, the first they had seen for several months.

“Does spring come as early as this up here?” asked Ed.

“Not often,” said Ben; “and don’t make any mistake, son, we’re a long ways from it yet. This is an early thaw, and means that most of the ice and snow will go; but we’ll have many cold days yet before you hear the blue-birds warble.”

A white, cloud-like vapor drifted through the woods and out over the lake. Seeing it, the guide assured the boys that it was a real thaw. By evening several of the big pines in the little clearing about the cabin had bare patches of ground at their feet.

“This will break up the ‘yards’ and send the deer and moose out into the woods,” said Ben.

Cold weather quickly came again, however, and for several weeks they had winter in all its glory. Although there were snow-storms--and big ones, too--the snow did not remain long on the ground. The days were becoming longer and the sun higher, and at noon there was often the suggestion of real spring in the soft, pine-laden air.

The boys were quite content to see the snow go, for they had learned well their lessons written on it during the winter. Each mark across its smooth, unruffled surface had been deciphered. The scrape of a wind-blown reed, the scratch of a tumbling leaf, the indistinct tracing of a fluttering wing, the careful tread of a stealthy foot, the wild jump of a startled buck, all were noted and recognized by the trained eyes of the young woodsmen. They had learned, too, to discriminate at a glance between a fresh and an old trail.

Besides all this, they had mastered many other things of great value to them. They had been taught the use of a compass, and also how to set a course by the sun, moon, or stars. They had learned about traps and trapping, and the methods of skinning and preparing pelts. They had become thoroughly versed in hunting and the habits of the animals they hunted. They were entirely familiar with the calls, noises, and sounds of the wilderness, and knew the reason for each of them. They knew the trees and the shrubs. They were able to select a suitable site and make a proper camp. All these things, and more, they had learned during the winter now almost gone. And, having learned them, they were not sorry that it should go, for there were still other things to be learned with the coming of spring.

XXI SPRING AND ITS SPORTS

“How’s this for a morning?” was Ben’s hearty greeting, some weeks later when spring had finally arrived.

“Great!” shouted the boys, coming from the cabin for a few whiffs of the balmy air.

It was indeed a glorious day, and they sat with the door of the cabin wide open, that they might drink in the fragrance of the pines. The snow had long since disappeared, and the lake, now free of its icy fetters, flashed and glistened in the strengthening sunshine. A smoky blue haze hovered over the woods, and the trees showed signs of leafing. The tops of the soft maples were ablaze with masses of tiny red blossoms; the fuzzy, fur-like buds of the “pussy-willows” were out; and down in the damp places the purple blades of the “skunk cabbage” were pushing their way upward through the moist soil.

The notes of the returned birds came floating in through the open door--the soft, pleasing warble of the blue-birds, which Ben said returned to him year after year; the rollicking song of the robin, which usually built its muddy nest over one of the windows; and the calls of mating crows which flew noisily along above the tree-tops.

“Guess we’ll tap the trees to-day,” said Ben, when breakfast was over. “Sap ought to run now. What do you say?”

“Yes, let’s try it,” urged the boys, eagerly, anxious for a new experience.

“All right; we’ll put up a bite and be off, for we have quite a distance to go.”

The lunch was soon supplied and neatly packed. Provided with several pails, an ax, and an auger, they set out for the distant hardwood ridge, where, Ben said, they would find a little grove of sugar-maples.