CHAPTER XXII

Amid the howling of the wind and the swirling of the snow, the horses and sleigh were turned partly around, and they struck off on a side trail, leading up the mountain. On and on they toiled, a distance of perhaps five hundred feet, although to the boys it seemed a mile or more. The wind was so strong it fairly took their breath away, and the snow all but blinded them. They had to walk, for it was all the double team could do to drag the turnout over the rough rocks and through the snow. Once Dave slipped, bumped against the Englishman, and both rolled downward a distance of several yards.

"Excuse me!" panted the young American. "My feet went up before I was aware."

"Don't mention it, my lad," was the gasped-out answer. "I fancy we're all doing the best we can."

Presently, through the driving snow, came the sight of a high, rocky wall. The sleigh driver halted and warned the others to do likewise.

"He says there is a pocket at the base of the cliff and we must be careful that we don't fall in it," said Granbury Lapham. "Let us wait until he makes certain it is perfectly safe."

In a few minutes Hendrik, having gone forward, came back and led the horses closer to the rocky wall, which towered over their heads a distance of a hundred feet or more. Toward the base the wall receded about a rod, so that the overhanging portion afforded a little shelter below. Outside of this shelter was a drift of snow as high as their heads, and the travelers had not a little trouble in getting through it.

"Well, this is certainly better than nothing," remarked Dave, as he shook the snow from his garments. "So long as the wind comes from down the mountain we'll be safe enough."

Hendrik proved a practical fellow in the emergency. He found a spot where some small rocks outside of the cliff set up something of a barrier in front. Then he unhitched the horses, took the outfit from the sleigh, and turned the sleigh upon its side. Not content with this, he found some fir saplings, cut them down with an axe he carried, and on them spread out the lap-robes. By the time he had finished they had quite a shelter from the wind and cold.

"Make a little fire now," he said, to the Englishman. "But be very careful that the forest does not catch." And then he explained that to allow the forest to burn in Norway was a prison offence.

"It's an outrage to burn down a forest, anyway," said Roger. "It takes so long for the trees to grow again."

"Yes, and they are never so nice afterwards either," added Dave.

With security from the storm, at least for the time being, everybody found himself hungry. A small fire of fir branches was started, and over this they made a pot of coffee and broiled a piece of the mutton brought along. They had some bread with them, and also some cheese-cake, and managed to make a square meal. They took their time eating, since there was nothing else to do.

"Wonder how long we'll have to stay here?" mused the senator's son.

"Until this awful wind lets up, I guess," answered Dave. "My! just listen to it roar and whistle! I shouldn't care to be out on the mountain top."

"You couldn't stand up there."

Hendrik brought in a large bundle of sticks and kept the fire going, so that they were soon well warmed. In the meantime it was growing darker and darker.

"We'll have to stay here until morning," announced Granbury Lapham. "To attempt to move in this darkness would be foolhardy."

There was absolutely nothing to do after that but sit down and rest, and soon the dancing of the fire made Dave sleepy. He rolled up in a blanket and closed his eyes, and presently Roger followed his example.

When the two boys awoke it was morning, but only a faint light reached them in their sleeping place under the cliff. They found Granbury Lapham already up. The sleigh driver, worn out, was stretched beside the fire, snoring lustily.

"Why, what has happened?" asked Dave, trying to look beyond the shelter. "I declare, it looks as if we were snowed in!"

"That's about the size of it," returned the senator's son. "And it looks to me as if it was still snowing."

"We'll have a time getting out on the road."

It was snowing thickly, so that but little could be seen beyond the improvised shelter. Fortunately, however, the wind had gone down, so that it was not nearly so cold as it had been.

They made themselves breakfast, and then Granbury Lapham aroused the sleigh driver. Hendrik went beyond the shelter before eating and shook his head dubiously.

"It will be a hard road to travel," he announced, in Norwegian, to the Englishman. "A hard road indeed!"

"Don't you think we can reach Bojowak to-day?" asked Granbury Lapham.

"We can try," was the non-committal reply.

They did not start until nearly noon. First Hendrik broke the road with the horses alone and then came back for the sleigh. It took a full hour to get down to the spot where they had turned off the Bojowak highway the day previous. Even then they broke one of the traces and had to stand around while the leather was mended. The falling snow was so thick they could not see any distance ahead. It clung to their fur caps and overcoats until each looked "like a regular Santa Claus," as Dave declared.

Beyond the forest the road ran along a ridge, and here they found traveling much easier, so that all entered the sleigh once more and rode. But at the end of the ridge they found a hollow covered even with snow.

"What's the trouble now?" questioned the Englishman, as Hendrik pulled in his four horses.

"I must see how deep it is first," was the reply, and the Norwegian jumped out and walked ahead with a long and slender pole he had brought along. Of a sudden he sank up to his waist. Then he stuck his pole down ahead of him. The snow was all of seven feet deep. He shook his head vigorously.

"We can't drive through there," said Dave. "Now what's to be done?"

Roger and Granbury Lapham stared around helplessly. The driver came back and began an inspection of the ground to the left. Here was another ridge. He said they might try skirting that, since there seemed nothing else to do.

"All right, anything so long as we get to Bojowak!" cried Dave.

The sleigh was turned partly around and the horses tugged and labored bravely to get through the snow on the new route. They went up a small rise of ground and then along a ridge that did not appear to be more than two yards wide. At one point there was a sharp decline on the left.

"We'll have to be careful here!" cried the Englishman to the driver. "Otherwise we may all take a tumble."

He had hardly spoken when a sleigh ran up on a rock on one side and plunged into a hollow on the other. In a twinkling the turnout was upset. Dave felt himself pitched out and rolled over and over before he could stop himself. Then he went down and down, he knew not whither. His hand touched that of Roger, and instinctively the two chums clung to each other. The snow filled their eyes, ears, and noses, and almost smothered them. They saw a little light, and then suddenly all became pitch-dark around them.

For several seconds after they fell neither spoke, for each was busy collecting his scattered senses. They were side by side on their backs and the snow was still all around them. Dave put out an arm, felt something of an opening, and crawled into it.

"Roger, are you all right?"

"I—I guess so!" came in a spluttering voice. "But I must have rolled ov—er a hun—hundred times!"

"So did I. We came down on the lightning express, didn't we?"

"Where are we, and where is the sleigh?"

"Don't ask me. We're at the bottom of some place. Come here, there is more room to breathe."

The senator's son followed Dave into the opening the latter had found. All was so dark here they could not see a thing. They stood close together, fearing to take another step.

"Hello! hello!" yelled Dave, when he had his breath back, and Roger quickly joined in the cry. To their consternation there was no answer.

"Most likely the others went down, too," said Dave.

"Then they ought to be near here."

"Unless they slipped clear down to the bottom of the mountain. If they did that I guess it's good-bye to them."

"Oh, do you think they've been killed, Dave?"

"I don't know what to think. Let us call again."

They did so, a dozen times or more. But no answer came back. All around them it was as silent as a tomb.

While procuring their outfit Dave had invested in a pocket lantern, and this he now brought forth and lit. By the tiny rays he made out that they had tumbled into a hollow between several large rocks, over which the snow and ice hung thickly. A big bank of snow was in front of them and behind was a black-looking space of uncertain depth.

"Roger, I must confess, I don't like the look of things."

"Don't like the look of things? Well, I guess not, Dave! How are we ever to get out?"

"I don't know."

"But we've got to get out somehow," went on the senator's son, desperately. "We can't stay here forever."

"Not unless this place becomes our tomb."

"You are cheerful, to say the least," answered Roger, with a shiver.

"I don't intend the place shall be my tomb," went on Dave, sturdily. "I am going to get out somehow. Let us do a little exploring."

"What! go into that black hole behind us? Why, we may fall into a bottomless pit!"

"Not if we are careful."

"I don't want to take any more chances—I've taken enough."

Dave held the light low so that he could see where he was going and walked into the opening behind him for a couple of rods. Roger followed very gingerly, for he did not want to be left behind. The opening proved to be a cave in the mountain side and the roof and flooring were of almost solid rock. Walking was very rough, and they could not tell how far the cave extended or in what direction.

"I am going to call again," said Roger, and going back to the mouth of the cave they set up as strong a cry as before. At first they fancied somebody answered them, but then all became silent.

"Nothing doing," murmured the senator's son, and his face took on a look of deep anxiety. "Dave——" He stopped short.

"What?"

"Nothing, only—do you really think the others were killed?"

"Let us hope not," was Dave's grave reply.

CHAPTER XXIII

They talked the matter over, and at length concluded to do a little more exploring of the cave. Dave turned up the pocket lantern as high as possible, and as he did this Roger took from his pocket a short, strong cord. "I thought this might come in useful, for tying up our supplies," explained the senator's son, "so I brought it from the last house we stopped at. Tie one end around your waist, Dave, and I will hold fast to the other end. Then I'll walk behind you, and if you go into a hole——"

"I may drag you behind me," finished Dave.

"No, I'll look out for that,—only be as careful as you can."

"I'll take no more risks than are necessary."

They moved forward slowly and cautiously, first to one side of the cavern and then to the other. At last they struck what appeared to be a passageway running parallel to the mountain side.

"Let us follow this," suggested Dave. "It may bring us out somewhere on the road."

Roger was willing to do anything his chum suggested. It was a hard journey, over rocks that were sharp and slippery. In some spots they found a coating of ice and above their heads long icicles hanging from the roofing. Roger slipped and fell and came down with such a jar that a great icicle weighing at least twenty pounds came down close to his head, smashing into many pieces and scattering over both him and Dave.

"Hi! look out!" cried Dave. "If we got one of those on our heads——"

His voice echoed loudly throughout the cave, and then down came two more icicles, one hitting his shoulder. He was thoroughly alarmed and leaped to a spot beyond, literally dragging Roger with him.

"That was a close shave!" murmured the senator's son. "Dave, this spot is full of perils!"

On they went once more, until Dave was almost certain he saw some sort of an opening ahead of them. He pointed it out; and just then the tiny light of the pocket lantern began to flicker.

"Dave, the light is going out!"

"I know it."

"Can't you turn it up a bit?"

"No; the oil is gone," was the answer, after Dave had shaken the lantern to make certain of that fact.

"What will we do if we are left in the dark?"

"Hurry; I think we can reach that opening—if it is an opening."

They ran, and as they did so the lantern flickered up for the last time and went out. Then Dave stopped short and Roger clung to him.

"Don't stop here, Dave!"

"I won't—but we must go slow, or we'll knock our heads on a rock or on the icicles."

They advanced with all the caution they could command. Each was filled with a nameless dread, for if there was no opening ahead what should they do? To go back the way they had come was next to impossible in the dark. A dozen steps, and both went down in a hollow, Roger rolling on top of his chum. The spot was like a huge washbowl, and all of the sides were covered with ice. They tried to scramble out, only to slip back over and over again.

"This is the limit!" cried Roger, desperately.

"If we—— Oh, wait!" He felt in his pocket.

"Hurrah!"

"What is it?"

"I've got five matches. I'm going to light one."

"Make it last as long as possible," was Dave's advice.

The match was ignited and the boys gazed around the hollow. Dave found some bits of projecting rocks and pulled himself up, and Roger came behind, the match burning itself out in the meanwhile. Then they pushed on, until they presently came to an opening through which the snow came down.

"Out at last!" murmured Dave. "I am thankful for that!"

"We have reached the open air, but we are not out of our difficulty," returned the senator's son. "I can't see anything of the road, can you?"

"Not yet, but it must be somewhere in the neighborhood, for we went upward in the cave."

They had come out at a point where there was a small table-land, which the wind of the night before had swept almost clear of snow. Below was the valley and above them a patch of firs.

"That's the forest," said Dave, pointing upward. "The road runs through there. I think the place where we took the tumble is over yonder."

"Let us call to the others again."

Once more they raised their voices, and from a distance came an answering call from Granbury Lapham.

"Where is he?" queried Roger. "I can't see anything through this snow."

"Neither can I."

They called again, and at last made out that the Englishman was above them. Then they said they were going to try to get to him and commenced the struggle. It was a hard task, and took not only their strength but also their breath. They could not see the man, and it was only by continual calling they finally located him.

"We all took a great tumble, don't you know!" cried Granbury Lapham. "Were you hurt?"

"Not enough to mention," answered Dave. "Where is the sleigh driver?"

"He tried to stop the horses, I think. They ran away after the sleigh turned over. I wanted to help and the first thing I knew I went down, too."

"Do you know where the road is?" asked Roger. "Not far above us. But I slipped back several times trying to get to it."

Now was no time to compare notes, and all three started to ascend the mountain side to where they thought the road must be located. As they could not get up the icy slopes they pushed on to where there was a stunted growth of pines. Here, by clinging to one tree after another, they at last reached a point where trudging through the snow became comparatively easy.

"I got a pretty bad scare when I came down the mountain side," said Granbury Lapham, when they stopped to rest. "A bear came along not more than fifty feet in front of me."

"A bear!" cried the two boys, simultaneously.

"Yes, and a mighty big fellow, too, I can tell you."

"What did you do?"

"I felt for my pistol, but it was gone—I must have dropped it in the snow when I tumbled. At first I thought the beast would attack me, but he gave one look and then jumped away in the snow—and that's the last I saw or heard of him."

Both of the boys felt instinctively for their weapons and were glad to learn that they were safe.

"I don't want to see any bears," observed Dave. "All I want is to go on and join my father."

"And all I want to do is to find my brother," answered Granbury Lapham. "I sincerely trust they are safe."

"We all hope for that," answered the senator's son.

By the time they gained the mountain road it had stopped snowing, so that they could see a fair distance ahead and behind. Dave gave a long look in advance.

"There is something," he said. "I think it must be our turnout."

"It certainly is the sleigh," said Roger, a minute later. "But it is still turned over."

"Yes, and the two front horses are gone," added the Englishman.

As tired as they were, they pressed forward with all possible speed, and soon came up to the overturned sleigh, with its scattered outfit. Some of their goods had gone down the mountain side out of sight and the rest were covered with snow. The horses were nervous and on the point of dashing off, so that Dave had to go to their heads to quiet them.

"Do you know what I think?" said the boy. "The front team broke loose somehow, and Hendrik has gone after them."

"Well, I hope he catches 'em and brings 'em back," answered Roger.

They unhooked the team attached to the sleigh and tied them to the nearest tree, some distance off. Then all hands got at the heavy turnout and righted it and cleaned it out. This done, they put in the robes and all they could find of their belongings. Thus an hour went by.

"Hendrik doesn't seem to be coming back," said Dave. "Perhaps those horses went a long distance and it might be as well to follow them—if the single team can do it."

"Let us try the horses that are left, anyway," returned Roger. "We can let Mr. Lapham drive while we walk ahead and make sure of the road."

They hooked up with care and the Englishman took the reins. It was all the two animals could do to start the sleigh, for the road was slightly upward for quarter of a mile. But then it ran downhill and going became almost too easy.

"They'll be running away, if we don't look out," said Granbury Lapham, after Dave and Roger had jumped in on the rear seat. "There doesn't seem to be any whoa in them."

"Shall I drive?" asked Dave.

"Do you know anything about horses? My knowledge is rather limited."

"Yes, I used to live on a farm when I was younger. I'll take the reins."

Dave started to step from the rear to the front seat of the sleigh. As he did this the turnout reached a point in the road where the downgrade was greater than ever. Away went the horses, taking the bits in their teeth. The shock threw Dave backward into Roger's lap.

"Hi! hi!" yelled Granbury Lapham, in quick alarm. "They are running away! Stop them! Whoa! whoa!" And he tugged helplessly at the lines.

The steeds paid no attention to the command to stop and the pulling on the reins did not appear to bother them in the least. On and on the downgrade of the mountain road they bounded, causing the sleigh to bounce from one side to the other. They were certainly running away, and to the occupants of the sleigh it looked as if each moment might bring a smash that would terminate fatally.

CHAPTER XXIV

On one side of the road was the upward slope of the hill, on the other the treacherous downward slope that had already caused them so much trouble. Dave hesitated for a moment, then pulled on one side of the reins with might and main, allowing the other side to drop entirely.

At first the horses did not heed, but presently one began to lose temper and courage and turned in toward the upward slope. Then the other had to come around, and in a twinkling the team was literally climbing the mountain side, dragging sleigh and occupants behind them!

"Look out! We'll all go over!" cried the senator's son.

"Hold tight; they're bound to stop soon, they can't keep this up!" yelled back Dave, and even as he spoke the horses, blowing heavily, slackened up, came to a walk, and then stopped short.

"Really, don't you know——" began Granbury Lapham, and knew not what to say.

"Now you can get out, if you wish," said Dave, and gathered up both reins once more. "I guess they have had their fill of running away."

"You turned them up the hill nicely."

"It was a hard pull," said Roger. "Dave, are you going to get out?" he added, as he hopped to the ground.

"No, I am going to turn them around and drive them down to the road."

"They'll run away with you!" ejaculated the Englishman, in alarm.

"I won't give them a chance," was the quiet but firm reply.

"If you are going to ride, I'll do the same," said Roger, and clambered back to his seat again. Granbury Lapham said he would walk for a while.

"I want to see how they act," he remarked, frankly. "I am not going to risk my neck again until I know what I am doing."

With a firm hand Dave started the horses and turned them partly around. They were inclined to be fretful, but he gave them no chance to gain the mastery. He spoke to them in a voice they could not help but notice, and was ready to turn them up the mountain side again at the first indication of another "break."

"Dave, you certainly know how to manage horses," spoke up Roger, when the road was reached. "It must be born in you."

"I suppose it is, Roger. My Uncle Dunston tells me that my father is a very good horseman and that he and my mother used often to go out horseback riding together."

Seeing how well Dave managed, Granbury Lapham entered the sleigh once more, and away they went along the road and down the decline previously mentioned. To retard the movement of the turnout and thus ease the team, Dave kept partly in the deep snow, and consequently there was no excuse for the horses running away.

Nearly a mile was covered when they saw Hendrik returning with the other team. The Norwegian sleigh driver hailed their approach with joy, which was considerably increased when he learned that the sleigh and the other horses had suffered no damage and that the greater part of the outfit had been saved.

"I was afraid somebody had fallen down the mountain side and been killed," said he to Granbury Lapham. "It is a most dangerous portion of this road. Last winter two men and a woman lost their lives close to this very spot."

"We had all the trouble we wanted," said Dave, when the driver's remarks had been translated by the Englishman.

Hendrik looked over the sleigh and the harness with care, and quarter of an hour later they were moving toward Bojowak as rapidly as the state of the road permitted. They had to pass through two hollows, and here the men and boys walked, for it was all the double team could do to get through.

"I see smoke!" cried Dave, presently. "It seems to come from a chimney."

"Bojowak," said the sleigh driver, nodding his head.

"Hurrah! We'll soon be there!" cried Roger. He looked at his chum. "You won't be sorry, Dave?"

"No, indeed," was the ready answer.

They had to pass around a spur of the mountain, which took another half-hour, and then came in full view of Bojowak, a village, the houses, or rather cabins, of which seemed to fairly cling to the side of the mountain. There was but one street, and most of the residences were located on the upper side of this, with barns and sheds below or attached to the dwellings.

Their arrival was noted with considerable curiosity, and the sleigh driver was plied with innumerable questions as to what had brought him thus far in such weather. He quickly explained, and then asked concerning the exploring expedition, and Granbury Lapham asked a number of similar questions.

"The expedition left Bojowak two days ago," said the Englishman, after he had learned the news. "It moved on to a sheep-station called Plivohav, six miles from here. From Plivohav the party was going to try to reach the top of the mountain called Thundercap."

"Is there any kind of a good road to Plivohav?" asked Dave, eagerly.

"No, it is a very poor road."

"Then we can't use the sleigh?"

"No, we'll have to go there either on foot or on horseback. The explorers used horses."

"Oh, let us go on horseback!" urged Roger. "I don't want to walk."

"I certainly prefer riding," added Dave.

"I'm not much in a saddle, but I fancy I can stand it," said Granbury Lapham. "We can take Hendrik with us, and as we have four steeds that will give each of us a mount."

Dave was desirous of going ahead at once, but it was too late, and the horses were so worn out, it was decided to remain at Bojowak over night. There was something of a road-house, used principally during the summer, and at this they asked for accommodations for the whole party and also for the horses.

"I think I can accommodate you," said the landlord, a burly and rather rough-looking Norwegian. "Wait till I call my wife and see what rooms are vacant. We have quite a number of guests. The burgomaster of Masolga is here with his brother and his wife. They, too, came in all this storm."

The landlord went out, leaving the two American boys and the Englishman in the public room of the road-house. Scarcely had he departed when a side door opened and a man came in, evidently not in the best of humor.

"You dog of a landlord!" he cried, in Norwegian. "Where are you? My room is as cold as a barn. I want some extra wood put on the fire at once. This is a scurvy way to treat the burgomaster of Masolga."

"Hello!" cried Dave, in a low voice, and plucked his chum by the sleeve. "Here is the brute of the railway coach."

"Sure enough," murmured the senator's son. "I never thought we'd meet him up here. Wonder if he'll say anything if he sees us?"

"Humph! so he's the burgomaster of Masolga, eh?" muttered Granbury Lapham. "I pity the townfolks under him."

"I say, do you hear, landlord?" stormed the burgomaster, striding around. "Are you deaf, that I must wear my lungs out calling you? If I had—— Ha!"

He stopped short, for his striding around had brought him face to face with our friends. He was astonished, then glared at the three as if they were deadly enemies.

"You!" he cried. "You! What brought you to this place? Are you following me?"

"We are not following you," answered the Englishman.

"I thought I was done with you! That I would never behold any of you again!" went on the burgomaster. "You are English cattle."

"And you are a Norwegian pig," answered Granbury Lapham. His English blood could not stand the insult.

"Ha! this to me? Me! the burgomaster of Masolga!" The speaker stamped violently on the floor with his heavy boot. "You shall pay for that insult! A pig! I will show you!"

"You started the quarrel, I did not," said the Englishman. He was a trifle alarmed over the turn affairs had taken.

"Are you stopping here?" demanded the burgomaster, after an ugly pause.

"We expect to stop here."

"It shall not be—I will not have you in the house with me! Such English cattle! Hi, you, Mina!"—this to a servant who had come in. "Call your master at once, I must see him."

The servant departed, her wooden shoes clattering loudly on the bare floor. The burgomaster of Masolga paced up and down, slapping his hands together.

"I will show you your place!" he muttered, with a malicious look on his face. "Wait! Yes, wait!"

In a moment more the landlord came in, almost out of breath.

"A thousand pardons!" he said, bowing low. "It was stupid of Jan to let the fire burn low. I have ordered more wood, and——"

"Let that pass, for the present," answered the burgomaster. "It is about these fellows I want to question you. Have they engaged rooms here?"

"They want rooms, sir, and we have two that——"

"You must not take them in!" roared the burgomaster of Masolga. "I forbid it."

"Forbid?" gasped the astonished landlord.

"Yes, forbid. They are nothing but English cattle. I met them on the train. They insulted me grossly. They must go elsewhere for accommodations."

"Have you two vacant rooms?" demanded Granbury Lapham, coming to the front.

"Yes, but—but——"

"We'll take them," answered the Englishman, quickly. He felt certain no other accommodations could be had in the village.

"Thank you, sir, but——"

"He cannot have the rooms—I will take them myself!" howled the burgomaster.

"I have already taken them," answered the Englishman, quietly. "I will pay in advance for them, if necessary," and he pulled out his purse.

"It shall not be!" stormed the burgomaster of Masolga. "I forbid it! I will pay for the rooms, if needs be. Those English cattle shall not sleep under the same roof with me and my family."

CHAPTER XXV

"Yes! yes!" replied the landlord. "But, sir——"

"Ha! Do not listen to him, Voshof," said the burgomaster. "Who is more important here, he or I? Out with the lot of them! I will take the rooms, and if every apartment is occupied, why you cannot accommodate them, can you?"

"Here is my money," said Granbury Lapham. He placed several silver thalers on the table. "I believe you know the law. If you do not, my friends and I do."

The landlord was in a quandary. Ordinarily he would have sided with the burgomaster of Masolga, but there were several considerations which made him pause. In the first place, he did not like the burgomaster, for he was very dictatorial and few things at the inn suited him and his party; in the second place, the foreigners usually paid liberally for what they got, generous "tips" were not withheld; and lastly, and this was equally important, the landlord had once refused a man a room when he was by law entitled to accommodations and he had been fined for the offense. He did not want to be dragged into court again, for his license might possibly be taken from him.

"He pays for the rooms, I am helpless," said the landlord, taking up the thalers. "I will see to it that you are not molested by any one," he added, gravely.

At this the burgomaster stormed and raved, calling Granbury Lapham a number of hard names. The Englishman would not stand such insults, and rushing up he caught the Norwegian official by the arm.

"Stop!" he cried. "Any more such words, and I will knock you down. My friends and I did not come here to be insulted. We are gentlemen, and we expect to be treated as such. Landlord, I look to you for protection while under your roof."

"There must be no quarreling here," said the landlord. "The law does not allow it." He paused for an instant. "I will show you gentlemen to your rooms." He turned to the burgomaster of Masolga. "Your fire shall be attended to immediately."

"I shall remember this!" cried the burgomaster, quivering with rage. "I shall remember it! I shall never come here again!" And he stormed from the room.

"He is a very passionate man," said the landlord, when he was alone with our friends. "I do not care if he stays away. He is poor pay and he wants too much for his money."

"We shall pay you well if you treat us fairly," answered Granbury Lapham, and slipped an extra thaler into the inn-keeper's ready hand.

"Depend upon me to do my best, sir," was the quick answer, and then the travelers were shown to two connecting rooms, plainly but comfortably furnished. One had a broad fireplace, and in this a roaring fire was soon blazing. That there might be no further trouble they were served with supper in a private dining-room; so they saw practically nothing more of the hot-headed and unreasonable burgomaster of Masolga.

"We have to thank you for getting through in this instance," said Dave, warmly, to Granbury Lapham. "I realize now we should have been at a tremendous disadvantage had Roger and I undertaken this trip alone—neither of us being able to speak more than a few words of the language."

"I am glad I fell in with you," was the Englishman's reply. "'Twould have been mighty lonely without you, don't you know."

Despite the adventures through which they had passed, the young Americans slept soundly that night and did not awaken until eight in the morning. It was cold and cheerless, no sun showing in the sky, and there was a promise of more snow in the air.

A good breakfast was procured, and they settled with the landlord and "tipped" him in a fashion that made him bow almost to the ground.

"Come again, and welcome, sirs," he said. "And do not mind what the burgomaster said. More than likely he will soon lose his position, for many people are dissatisfied with him, and he is exceedingly slow in settling his debts."

They were soon on horseback, the sleigh having been put away under one of the sheds. Hendrik led the way, past the village and then to what was little better than a mountain trail, winding in and out through several patches of firs and then across some rough rocks. At the latter spot there was a good deal of ice, and once Roger's horse went down, carrying his rider with him.

"Are you hurt, Roger?" asked Dave, leaping down to his chum's assistance.

"I don't think so," was the reply of the senator's son. But when he arose he drew in a sharp breath. "He caught my left ankle and I reckon he twisted it a little."

The horse was gotten up and Dave assisted Roger to mount. It was painful to stand on the injured ankle, but Roger said it was all right when he was in the saddle.

"Be careful after this," said Dave, and they were cautious at every spot where the ice showed itself.

The scenery around them was magnificent, but it was such a gray day this was practically lost upon them. They were going steadily upward and to the north of Norway, and they could feel the air growing colder. Only the firs stood out against the sky; all else was snow and ice.

"This is winter weather, and no mistake," remarked Roger. "I don't know that I want to go much further north."

"How desolate it is!" said Dave. "Not a sign of a house or hut anywhere! It's as bad as being in the far West of our country in mid-winter."

"Hark! I hear bells!" cried Granbury Lapham. "Can another sleigh be coming?"

They looked in the direction from whence the sound came, and presently made out something moving below them, on a road in the valley.

"I really believe it is a sled with a reindeer attached!" cried Dave. And such proved to be the case. But before they could get a good look at the novel turnout, sled and reindeer flashed out of sight.

"I shouldn't mind having a ride behind a reindeer myself," said Dave, as they resumed their journey.

"Nor I," added his chum.

At the end of three hours of hard traveling they came in sight of the sheep-station for which they were bound. It was composed of a log cabin and half a dozen large sheds, surrounded by a high fence. Nobody was in sight, and they had to call several times before the care-taker of the place put in an appearance.

"Have you a party of strangers here?" questioned Granbury Lapham.

"Yes," was the answer, "but they are not here just now."

"A scientific exploring party?"

"Yes."

"Where have they gone?"

"They started this morning for the top of old Thundercap," said the sheep raiser. "They will be back by to-morrow night."

"Found at last," said the Englishman, joyfully, and translated what had been said to Dave and Roger.

"Back to-morrow night," murmured Dave. His heart began to beat rapidly. "I wish they'd come to-night. I can hardly wait."

The sheep raiser was questioned further, and told them the party was made up of Mr. Porter, Mr. Lapham, and five others, including a Norwegian guide named Bjornhof. He said they had a number of scientific instruments with them, and talked of gold and silver and other precious metals.

"Maybe they are trying to locate a mine," suggested Roger.

"If they are, I fancy they will be disappointed," answered Granbury Lapham. "Norway has been pretty well explored for minerals and the best of the mines have been located."

"This region doesn't look as if it had been explored very much," returned Dave. "It's about as wild and primitive as could be."

The sheep-station afforded but meager accommodations, and they were glad that they had brought along some supplies. There was, to be sure, plenty of mutton, but who wanted to eat that all the time?

"I don't mind lamb," said the senator's son. "But mutton, especially when it is strong, is another matter."

"Which puts me in mind of a story, as Shadow Hamilton would say," said Dave, with a smile. "A young housewife was going to have a number of her husband's friends to dinner, and her husband told her to get a big leg of lamb for roasting. So she went to the butcher. 'Give me a leg of lamb,' she said. 'I want a very large one. I think you had better give it to me from a lamb four or five years old.'"

"And that puts me in mind of another," answered the senator's son. "A country boy went to town and there saw a circus parade including two camels. When he got back home he told his folks that the parade was all right, but he thought it was a shame to drive around such long-necked, hump-backed cows!"

The sheep raiser told them that all the members of the exploring party were in excellent health. He said one of the men resembled Dave very much, and smiled broadly when told the man was the lad's father. When Granbury Lapham added that the two had not met since Dave was a little fellow, the sheep raiser opened his eyes wide in astonishment.

"'Tis like a fairy tale," said he, and then told them several fairy tales he had heard when a boy. He was an uneducated man and his life was exceedingly simple, and the fairy tales were, consequently, very wonderful to him.

"Imagine such a man set down in the heart of New York or Chicago," observed Roger. "How his eyes would open and how he would stare!"

"If you told him of all the wonders of the big cities he wouldn't believe you," answered Dave. "I once started to tell one of those natives of the South Sea Islands about the Brooklyn Bridge and when I pointed out how long it was, and said it hung in mid-air, he shook his head and walked away, and I know he thought I was either telling a lie or was crazy."

The day passed slowly, especially to Dave, who could scarcely wait for the hour to arrive when his father should come back. What a meeting that would be! It made the tears stand in his eyes to think about it.

"Dear, dear father!" he murmured to himself. "I know we are going to love each other very, very much!"

CHAPTER XXVI

"Hello, it must be snowing again!" he remarked. "That's too bad, for it will make traveling worse than ever."

It was snowing, and the downfall continued all night and half of the next day. The wind piled it up against the house until it reached the roof, burying two of the windows completely from sight.

"This is a regular North Pole experience," remarked Roger, as he bustled around in the morning, trying to get warm. "I don't know that I want to go much further north."

"Don't want to become an arctic explorer, then?" queried Granbury Lapham.

"Not much! Say, stir up the fire, or I'll be frozen stiff."

Wood was piled on the fire, and soon a pot of steaming coffee made all feel better. When the man in charge went out to look at the sheep in the various folds Dave went with him. The air was filled with snow, and it was very dark.

"This is terrible," said Dave, on returning. He was thinking of his father and the others of the exploring party.

"Land of the Midnight Sun," returned the senator's son, laconically.

"The man says they'll not return to-day," said Granbury Lapham. "It would not be safe on the mountain trail."

"I thought as much," answered Dave. "Well, all we can do, I suppose, is to wait." And he heaved a deep sigh.

The day passed slowly, for the place afforded nothing in the way of amusement, and even if it had, Dave was too much worried about his father to be interested. All went out among the sheep and saw them fed. The folds were long, low, and narrow, and the occupants huddled together "just like a flock of sheep," as Roger remarked with a grin.

"What timid creatures they are," said he, a little later. "I suppose you can do almost anything with them."

"Not with the rams," answered Dave. And then he went on: "Do you remember Farmer Cadmore's ram and how we put him in Job Haskers' room?"

"I don't believe these animals are quite so ugly," said the senator's son, and went up to one of the rams in question. The animal backed away a few feet, then of a sudden it leaped forward, lowered its head, and sent Roger sprawling on his back.

"Wow!" grunted the youth. "Ho! chase him off!" And he lost no time in rolling over and getting out of harm's way. "Gracious, but that was a crack in the stomach, all right!" he groaned.

"He's what you can call a battering-ram," observed Dave.

"Yes, and a ram-bunctious one at that."

"Don't ram-ble in your talk, Roger."

"If he goes on another ram-page I won't ram-ble, I'll run."

"Say, this joke has too many ram-ifications for me, let us drop it," said Dave, and with a merry laugh both lads changed the subject.

The hours dragged by slowly. At noon they took their time eating a meal that all hands prepared. Fortunately they had with them a few canned goods, which gave them something of a change in their diet.

When night came again the wind arose once more. But now the house was so completely buried in the snow that it was scarcely touched. Dave was worn out and slept soundly, and the others did not awaken him until nearly nine o'clock.

"Any news?" was his first question on arising.

"Nothing," answered Granbury Lapham. "Porter, I am growing worried," he added, seriously.

"I think we have good cause to worry, Mr. Lapham. It is no joke to be out on a mountain top in such weather as this."

"The man here tells me there are several shelters up there, one built between the rocks where the wind cannot touch it. But for all that I am worried."

"Do you suppose they have enough food with them?"

"They should know enough to go well supplied."

All of that day and the next went by, and still nobody appeared at the sheep-station. Another snowstorm was brewing, and when it came the air was so filled with it that nobody could venture outside. The young Americans and the Englishman paced the floor of the shelter impatiently, but could do nothing. Their food was limited, and the tobacco for Granbury Lapham's pipe ran low, which caused the man additional trouble.

"I can get along with a poor meal, but I must have my smoke," he said.

A day later they were seated around the fire discussing the situation when Roger gave a cry.

"Well, I never!"

"What's up now?" asked Dave.

"Why, we've gotten into a new year and nobody ever noticed it!"

"By Jove, that's so!" answered Granbury Lapham. "Well, here's a Happy New Year to all of you."

"A poor beginning makes a good ending, they say," said Dave. "Let us hope that proves true in this instance." He was sorry he had not been in a position to send New Year greetings to those at home, and especially to Jessie.

Sunday passed drearily, and also Monday. On Tuesday it began to clear and the wind dropped entirely. Then the house was opened and they went forth, and the man in charge busied himself with his sheep. Two of the animals had died from the cold, and one had been trampled to death in the huddling together to keep warm.

"Thank fortune, the horses are all right," said Roger, after an inspection.

With the coming of comparatively good weather they watched eagerly for the return of the exploring party. The sheep-station keeper pointed out to them where the mountain trails ran and told them the party must come by way of one of them, for to descend in any other manner would be impossible.

"I really can't see how they are going to get down in such a snow," was Dave's comment. "Why, in some places it must be ten feet deep or more."

"The wind has swept some places clear," was Granbury Lapham's answer. "As far as possible they'll stick to those cleared spots."

"It must be fearfully slippery," said Roger. "And if any of them takes a tumble——" He did not finish.

The day was coming to a close when Dave, who was still on the watch, uttered a shout.

"I see somebody, up on yonder trail!" he cried. "One, two, three of them!"

"Only three?" queried Granbury Lapham.

"That is all, so far."

All ran out and looked to where Dave pointed. Three men were coming along the trail slowly. Sometimes they would be in snow up to their waists, and then again they could be seen crawling cautiously over the icy rocks which had been swept clear of snow.

"If we only had a field-glass!" murmured Dave. He wondered if one of the men could be his father.

The men were only in sight a few minutes, then some projecting rocks hid them from view. The man in charge of the sheep-station was questioned, and he told them it would take the men on the mountain a good two hours to get down to the house, as the trail wound around considerably to avoid several dangerous cliffs.

"Let us go out to meet them," said Dave. "I can't stand this hanging around doing nothing."

"All right, I'll go with you," answered his chum.

Granbury Lapham was also anxious; and in a few minutes the three started out, along a road the sheep-station keeper pointed out. It was now dark, but they kept to the road with ease, as it ran between several patches of stunted pines.

No words can describe the feeling that filled Dave's heart. Was he to meet his father at last? At times he trembled like a leaf just to think of it.

His eyes were on the alert, and after trudging along for half an hour he made out several forms approaching down the mountain trail. He set up a shout and so did his companions, and presently came an answering call.

In a few minutes the two parties were within speaking distance. Dave gave each of the three newcomers a searching look, and his heart sank. Not one of them was his father.

The three men were the Norwegian guide and two individuals named Hausermann and Davis. They were almost exhausted by their journey, and begged to be conducted to the sheep-station and given something to eat before telling their story.

"But my brother—what of him?" demanded Granbury Lapham.

"Who is your brother?" asked Samuel Hausermann.

"Philip Lapham, the head of this expedition."

"Oh, so you are Philip's brother. Well, he is safe—at least he was when we left him. He hurt his knee a little, slipping over some rocks, but it didn't amount to much."

"And what of my father, David Porter?" put in Dave, anxiously. "He was with you, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was with us," answered Samuel Hausermann. "But he——" The man stopped speaking and looked at his companions.

"But what? Oh, don't say something has happened to him!" cried Dave, and a sudden chill took possession of his heart.

"We're hoping he is safe," said Charles Davis. "You see, he went out yesterday, to look for some food. It was very slippery on the rocks and the wind knocked him down and rolled him over a cliff."

"And then——" Dave could hardly speak.

"We tried to get to him, but couldn't," said Samuel Hausermann. "Our rope wasn't long enough. Then he tried to climb up the cliff, but the snow seemed to blind him and he lost his grip, went down, and disappeared over another cliff about a hundred feet below. And that's the last we saw or heard of him."