The Rover Boys in Alaska: or, Lost in the Fields of Ice

"I dink ve haf to go pack und look for der tracks," said Gus Schmidt. "Too pad, dot vosn't our sled, ain't it?"

The team was turned back, and for the best part of half an hour they looked for the missing trail. At last it was discovered, and once more they moved rapidly forward, this time due North.

Fortunately there was little wind, otherwise Dick could not have stood that long and wild ride. As it was, he felt chilled to the bone, and his feet were like two lumps of ice. Gus Schmidt must have surmised this, for presently he stopped the sled and motioned to the youth.

"Ve git off und rundt a leetle. It vos do us goot," he remarked, and swung himself down on the icy snow. Dick followed, so stiff at first that he could scarcely put one foot before the other. They set off on a walk, the dogs pulling them, and gradually increased their speed to a run.

Then Dick felt better.

All through the afternoon the chase kept up. They saw nothing of Tom. But the track he had left was a plain one and to that they stuck closely.

At last it grew so dark that they could see the track but indistinctly. They had to reduce their speed to a walk for fear of turning off.

"He ought to be stopping for the night," said Dick.

"Such a feller might not sthop at all," answered the German. "He might go on und on bis der togs trop dead, yah!"

Finally Gus Schmidt came to a halt and announced that they must go into camp for the night. The dogs needed the rest. They could continue the chase at the first sign of dawn.

"Do you know where we are?" asked Dick.

"Out in der ice und snow, dot ist all I know," said the German. "I nefer vos here pefore."

"If we are not lost we are next door to it," murmured Dick.

They had brought along a little tent and sleeping bags, and after supper made themselves as comfortable as possible. The dogs had been fed and they snapped and snarled over the bones thrown to them.

Only once during the night were Dick and his companion disturbed. From a distance came a yelping which the dogs at once answered.

"What is that?" asked the youth, sitting up. "Not the dogs of the other sled?"

"Nein, dot vos foxes," answered Gus Schmidt. "Ton't podder mit dem. Da ton't come here – da vos afraid of ter dogs." And he turned over to go to sleep again.

Dick could not sleep with any kind of comfort. He was utterly exhausted, yet his mind was continually on Tom. What was his poor brother doing, all by himself, amid that desolation of ice and snow?

At daybreak they were on the way again. The sun had come up, but soon it was hidden by a heavy bank of clouds, and then the snowflakes commenced to fall.

"Dot ist pad," said Gus Schmidt, shaking his head.

"You mean, it will wipe out the trail?" said Dick.

"Yah – der drail to find your prudder und der drail for us to git pack py. Maype ve besser go pack now."

"No! no! don't turn back! Please don't go back!" pleaded Dick. "He can't be so very far ahead of us. We are sure to catch up to him in a very short while now. If we – "

Dick did not finish, for a strange sight ahead caught his eye. Coming towards them was a dog team on a gallop. Behind the team was an overturned sled, empty.

CHAPTER XXX

GOOD-BYE TO ALASKA – CONCLUSION

"Is that your sled?"

"Yah. Vait, I vos sthop dem!" yelled Gus Schmidt, and with a dexterity that was really marvelous he turned his own team about and in a few seconds was traveling after the runaways.

"Wait! I'm going to get off! To look for my brother!" cried Dick, and as the German slackened his speed for a few seconds, the oldest Rover boy sprang out in the snow. He went sprawling, but was not injured. Almost before he knew it, the two sleds had disappeared and he was left alone.

All around him were the vast and mysterious fields of ice and snow. Far off he could hear the barking of the dogs, but this soon died out, and then came utter silence – a silence that seemed to fairly weigh him down. And now the snow started to come down harder than ever.

Had Dick Rover been less stout-hearted than he was he would have then and there given up the hunt for his brother. But Dick had the stuff of a real hero in him, and he went forward through the snow, bending low to escape the wind and to keep his eyes on that slowly disappearing trail.

Thus half an hour went by, and by that time, weighed down as he was by his heavy clothing and heavy footwear, Dick was well-nigh exhausted. He stopped to rest and to get his breath, and then, struck with a sudden idea, let out that old familiar locomotive whistle of Putnam Hall fame.

He waited for a few seconds and then whistled once more. Was he mistaken, or did an answering whistle sound out? He could not tell. He set his face grimly and trudged on.

At last he could see the trail no longer and then he realized the truth of the terrible situation.

He was lost on this vast field of ice and snow!

And Tom, somewhere ahead, must be lost, too!

It was a thought to make the stoutest heart quake. But Dick did not think of himself. He was thinking only of his brother. How could he locate Tom and save him from the cold and from starvation?

"I've got to do it!" he told himself, over and over again. "I've got to do it! I must! I must!"

On and on he plunged, and suddenly went sprawling over some object half hidden in the falling snow. He felt around, and realized that he had come upon the two packs that had been on the sled Tom had taken.

"If they fell off here maybe Tom fell off, too!" he told himself. And then he commenced to search the vicinity carefully.

It was well that he did this, otherwise he might have missed poor Tom, who lay in a slight hollow, partly covered with snow. The sled had hit a rock and the poor youth had been flung out with great force, landing on one shoulder and on his head.

"Tom! Tom! Are you alive? Answer me!" cried Dick, as he raised his brother in his arms. But no reply came from Tom's lips. He was unconscious.

With all the strength that remained to him, Dick carried his brother to the spot where he had found the traps. Then he quickly undid the bundles, to see if there was anything there he might use. He found a tiny oil stove, filled with oil, and lit it, and then rolled Tom in two blankets, and gave him something hot to drink. Then he found a stick of wood, soaked it well in oil, and set it up in the ice as a torch.

All this while Tom lay like a log. He was breathing heavily, but he did not open his eyes or speak. Evidently the shock had been a heavy one. Dick did not know but what some of his brother's bones might be broken.

An anxious hour went by, and in that time Dick did all he could for Tom, who still laid in a stupor. Then came a shout, and Gus Schmidt appeared, driving his dog team and with the runaway team also in harness. Behind the first sled was the second – the one Tom had taken.

"So you got your brudder, hey?" said the German. "How vos he?"

"In bad shape, I'm afraid," answered Dick, soberly. "I guess the dogs ran away and pitched him overboard."

"I dink you vos right, und da drow dem dings oferpoard, doo," and Schmidt, pointed to the traps. "Veil, it's goot ve got der draps und er sled pack."

"Can we get back to the others tonight?"

"Nein, it was too dark und cold. Ve go in der morning, to Riss Rifer. Maybe dare you got a doctor, yah."