our young friend harvey hamilton often recalled the words of detective simmons pendar. one remark impressed him when his course diverged from that of his brother, and they passed from the sight of each other. whenever a crime or bit of wrongdoing comes to light, the officers whose duty it is to bring the guilty ones to justice proceed to formulate their theories. their guesswork is often ingenious to the degree of brilliancy, and an error seems impossible. the skeins when unraveled must make clear everything as was promised at the beginning.
and yet it not infrequently comes about that the whole theory turns out to be a rope of sand. it crumbles and truth assumes a wholly new guise. the brothers had done a good deal of guessing and might be far astray. it seemed to them that the missing bohunkus johnson would be found either near the spot where professor morgan had made his last descent and rise, or at the other place not far off where dick hamilton had seen the monoplane more than once. and still it was possible[158] that the colored youth was not within miles of either locality.
since, however, the two had no other basis upon which to act, they promptly set out to test the truth of their guesses. although they were not far from settlements, towns, villages and camps of visitors in the wilderness, both straightway plunged into the wildest section of the southern adirondacks. harvey found the steeply ascending surface so precipitous that it was often hard work to force his way forward. rarely could he do so in a straight line, and he was obliged to make many long, laborious detours, but he had a fine perception of direction, and a glance at the lake and country behind him prevented any confusion of the points of the compass. so arduous was his work that a full hour passed before he believed he was near the spot where the monoplane last halted. he was in doubt for some time, but finally identified the vast pile of rocks, with the exuberant growth of underbrush and trees only a little way beyond.
“this is the place,” he decided, after some time spent in inspection; “over yonder is where the machine was hidden from sight for awhile. i am sure i am not mistaken, though it remains to be seen whether the discovery will do any good.”
[159]nothing striking was observed when he looked around. working his way to the right of the pile of stones, his eye rested upon an open space only a few rods in area, just beyond and between the rocks and the trunks of the trees. the decayed leaves on the bottom proved that not long before vegetation had taken root in the spot, but some cause which he did not understand had obliterated all traces of it.
an examination of the ground showed a disturbance of the leaves as if made by the feet of a person, and closer scrutiny disclosed where the small rubber-tired wheels of the monoplane had pressed. unquestionably the young aviator had come upon the place for which he was searching.
but where was bohunkus johnson? harvey saw nothing to suggest a cavern or the rudest kind of shelter. he groped here and there, but the search was unavailing. it might be, however, that the machine had descended at this point because no other near at hand would serve.
harvey had hesitated through a strange dread of disappointment to appeal to the help that was his from the first. he now inserted his thumb and forefinger between his lips and sent out two resounding blasts which were twice repeated, the last closing with a queer tremolo that may be said[160] to have been the highest attainment of the art of signaling. only he, his brother and bunk had mastered this crowning achievement.
“if that reaches bunk’s ears he will know from whom it comes,” reflected harvey in the attitude of intense listening.
from some point a long way off sounded the faint report of a gun; he heard the shout of a person answered by that of another; the soft breeze rustled the foliage overhead, but there was nothing more. then he again repeated the calls, but in vain; not the slightest suggestion of a reply was returned.
harvey’s depressing dread was that his colored friend had heard the call and refused to reply. it might be he refrained through fear of the professor, whom he held in abject awe, or possibly he was so obsessed by the trip to africa that he was resolute not to allow any interference by his friends. finally harvey muttered:
“i don’t believe he is within reach of my signals; it will be the fortune of dick to bring him out from cover.”
a possibility occurred to the young aviator. if bunk had heard his call he would set out on a stealthy search for harvey. he would steal like a red indian through the undergrowth, around the[161] rocks and among the tree trunks in the effort to gain a peep at the one who had followed him to his lonely retreat. harvey stood motionless, listening and peering around for some minutes, and then, hearing nothing more than he had heard from the first, he started on a little search of his own.
feeling the necessity of the utmost caution, he inched around to the rear of the ledge, halting at every step and peering into the labyrinth of undergrowth and tree trunks, many of which grew close to one another as if crowded for room. when he reached the spot he had in mind, a thrill ran through him, for he assuredly heard something moving apparently with the same care he was himself using. he stood motionless and listened.
the noise was so faint that for a time he could not tell the direction whence it came. he was in the midst of a dense growth of bushes, woven through in many places by matted vines which at times blocked his way.
“bunk was always good at this business,” he reflected; “i remember he used to trace me and dick and dodge us when we were hunting for him. i don’t believe he has detected me, but may suspect i am looking for him. sh! there it is again.”
this time he identified the point from which the indistinct rustling issued. it was to the left and[162] perhaps a hundred feet away. the intervening growth made his view uncertain, but while gazing he saw some bushes agitated, as they might have been by a person stealing through them. he noticed that the very gentle breeze which was blowing came from the spot toward him, whereat he was glad, for he fancied his own movements were not so likely to be noticed by bunk, provided it was really he who was so near.
fearful of being discovered before he could get nigh enough to the colored youth to prevent his running off, harvey took several guarded steps, which placed him behind the trunk of a large oak, and peered out.
the rustling ceased; then he heard it again and saw the bushes stirred. he thought this was a most peculiar way of acting on the part of his friend. after waiting until it had lasted several minutes without any change, he grew impatient. he stepped from behind the oak and advanced, keenly watching the bushes in front.
suddenly an immense pair of antlers loomed to view amid the dense shrubbery and harvey observed the head of a huge buck which was browsing upon a species of berry that grew on the upper part of a group of bushes. the direction of the wind prevented the animal from scenting the[163] nearness of an enemy, but he had discovered something that roused his suspicion. he stopped chewing and holding his head high stared around in quest of the cause.
harvey did not think of screening himself from sight of the buck, and immediately recalled the accounts dick had written home of the huge creature for whose antlers he yearned.
“this must be the fellow; i don’t suppose he would mind such a weapon as my revolver, even if it wasn’t against the law to shoot his kind at this season, but til give him a good scare for making me think he was bunk.”
with which the youth flung up his arms, uttered a loud “whoof!” and bounded through the undergrowth toward the buck. instead of making off in a panic, the animal looked for a moment at the approaching form, and then lowering his head charged straight at it.
this was turning the tables with a vengeance. harvey hamilton had set out to hunt a magnificent buck only to awake suddenly to the fact that the buck was hunting him.
“jingo! i didn’t expect that!” exclaimed our young friend, whirling round and dashing off at headlong speed.
“i wonder if he can climb a tree,” was the next[164] thought of the panic-stricken youth, who, without drawing the small weapon, which would have been practically useless, glanced hurriedly around for a refuge. he had precious little time to spare, for the brute was crashing down upon him like a runaway locomotive on a down grade.
a few paces away the fugitive thought he saw what he longed for, in the shape of a limb as thick as his arm, which put out at right angles from a trunk eight or ten feet above the ground. he could leap upward, catch hold and swing himself above the branch, but while running with might and main it suddenly occurred to him that the support was too low, and the towering antlers would overtake him before he could scramble out of their reach.
he heard the superb terror so close on his heels that, after running a few paces farther, he glanced over his shoulder to learn how many more seconds he had to live. as he did so, his foot caught in a wirelike vine which wound along the ground and he sprawled forward on his hands and knees.
harvey not only fell but kept on falling. he had struck the edge of a ravine down which he shot so abruptly that he was gone beyond the power of checking himself, before he knew what was happening. he felt he was sinking and flung[165] out his hands in a desperate effort to save himself, though he might well have questioned whether he was not fortunate after all in the promised escape from his infuriated pursuer. he gripped bush after bush, but in every instance it was uprooted and remained in his hands or gave way to others which he seized and which in their turn yielded to the strain. then came the terrifying thought that the buck would tumble down upon him and crush out the breath of life.
harvey was absolutely helpless. he might have been badly hurt by his fall had not his attempts to stop his descent so broken its force that when he suddenly landed on his feet he was only slightly jarred. in the same moment that this occurred, he plunged to one side so as to be out of the way of the avalanche which he expected from above.
but the buck was wiser in his way than the young aviator. stillness followed the involuntary descent of the latter, and then the animal was heard threshing through the undergrowth. whatever intentions he had held regarding the lad were given up and he went off.
“i wonder whether any fellow ever had a stranger escape,” reflected harvey, when he realized that he had nothing more to dread from the brute; “he would have had me sure but for that tumble.”
the fear that the buck might be waiting in the vicinity held harvey listening for some minutes. he was disturbed by the thought that his foe might find a path into the gorge and still have it out with him, but nothing of the kind occurred.
when finally he felt it safe to move about, he set out to learn his real situation, and the result was disquieting. his first thought was that the gap through which he had been precipitated was a ravine out of which he could climb with little difficulty; but to his dismay he found that it was a pocket or hole, which might be compared to an immense irregular well, twenty or thirty feet in diameter, with a depth nearly as great. the inclosing walls were of rock not only perpendicular but in several places the top narrowed, thus leaving the bottom broader than above. only in one spot did the bushes grow to the edge, and that was where he had fallen, bringing so much undergrowth with him that he was not harmed.
having made an inspection of his rocky prison, the all-important question presented itself: how was he to get out of it?
his hope was that by grasping the projecting bits of stone, he could climb to the upper edge, but the more he studied the problem the harder it seemed. there was one place where he finally[167] decided to make the attempt. he believed he could raise himself to the top, but for the fact that about half way thither, the wall protruded in a way to suggest in a modified form the feat of treading a ceiling after the manner of a fly.
this slope, however, was so moderate and so short that he believed he might succeed. he was not encumbered with luggage and his outer coat had been left by the lakeside with the canoe and the fish which he and his brother had counted upon to furnish them their evening meal. the field glass being suspended by a cord behind his shoulders was no handicap; arms and legs were free to do their best, and few youths of his age were more capable athletes than he. the longer he studied the situation, the higher his hopes rose.
