The Pony Rider Boys in Alaska

Chapter 6

Tad knew the meaning of that rushing, roaring sound now. A few particles chipped from the rocks far above them had struck him sharply in the face. He knew that a landslide was sweeping down.

His first impulse was to urge his companions forward, but upon second thought he realized that this might be the very worst thing they could do. His quick ears had told him that the center of the slide was ahead of them. That was his judgment, but he knew how easily it was to be mistaken in a moment like this.

Glancing up the boy could see nothing but a great cloud of dust that filled the air. His companions seemed powerless to stir, and it was fortunate for them that such was the case, else they might have done that which would have sent them to a quick death.

Tad unslung his rope with the intention of casting it over a sharp rock that extended some six feet up above the level of the trail and on the mountainside. In an emergency it would serve to anchor him. He motioned to the others to do the same, but either they did not understand or they were too frightened to act.

A sudden dust cloud obliterated the trail for fully five rods ahead of Professor Zepplin, then went shooting out into the chasm beyond, and a great mass of earth seemed to leap from the mountainside just above them. It hovered right over the center of the line of ponies for an agonizing second, then swept down on them.

The secondary slide, which this was, had but little width, perhaps a few feet. Furthermore, it had fallen only a short distance, so that it had not had time to gain great velocity. The mass smote the pack mule just ahead of Tad Butler. Tad saw the pack mule’s hind feet go out from under him. For the smallest fraction of a moment the animal stood quivering, then his hind hoofs slipped over the edge of the trail.

The little animal was making desperate efforts to cling to the trail with its fore feet, at the same time trying to get its hind feet back on solid ground. That effort was fatal. Little by little the frightened beast slipped toward the great gulf. Evidently realizing the fate that was in store for it, the mule brayed shrilly.

The Pony Rider Boys sat gazing on the scene with fascinated eyes. Even Professor Zepplin was at a loss for words, and at a greater loss for a remedy for the disaster that was upon them. Tad Butler’s brain was working, however.

Suddenly Tad raised his rope above his head and gave it three sharp twirls. Then he let go. The big loop dropped over the head of the unfortunate pack mule.

“Jump on him and hold him down,” shouted Tad. “Be careful that you don’t go over.”

The boys hesitated slightly. Perhaps they could not have accomplished anything, but Butler did not wait to see. He had slipped from his own pony with a sharp, commanding “Whoa” to the little animal, which served in a measure to reassure it.

The lad then sprang to the upright rock carrying the end of his rope with him. He did not make the mistake of making the end fast to his own body as he might have done in some circumstances. Instead he threw the rope over the rock, taking one quick turn about it. He had no more than taken that turn when the slack on the rope was suddenly taken up and the rope was drawn taut.

There was no need to look around to see what had happened. Butler knew well enough without looking. The pack mule had slipped over the edge and was hanging there with the boy’s lasso about its neck. The rope was tough rawhide, and Tad felt sure it would hold. Still, that would not save the mule, so he made fast and sprang to the other side of the trail. The mule, he found, was dying a terrible death.

The freckle-faced Tad comprehended the situation in a single glance. He knew now that it would not be possible to save the pack animal. Drawing his revolver he placed the muzzle close to the head of the unfortunate beast and pulled the trigger.

The report, in the walled-in pass, sounded like the discharge of a cannon.

“N-n-n-now you’ve done it,” chattered Stacy Brown.

“Tad, Tad! What have you done?” cried the Professor.

“I have put the poor thing out of its agony, that’s all,” answered Butler. His face was pale and his eyes troubled.

“But you’ve killed him,” protested Professor Zepplin.

“Didn’t you see that he was choking to death, Professor? Don’t you think it was better to end his sufferings with a bullet rather than let him slowly strangle?”

The Professor took off his sombrero, and, with an unsteady hand, wiped the perspiration from his forehead.

“Too bad, too bad!” he muttered. “Yes, yes. You were right, Tad. You did right. You thought more quickly and more clearly than I did. We had better cut the rope and let him go. There is nothing else to be done, I suppose.”

“There is something else to be done, sir. There is something quite important to be done.”

“What do you mean?”

“The pack. Surely we are not going to send that pack crashing to the bottom of the pass. We shall have to go all the way back for more supplies if we do that, provided we ever find a place where we can turn around.”

“That is so. Still, lad, I am afraid it is hopeless. We never shall be able to get the pack.”

“I think it can be done, but how I don’t know yet. What time is it?”

“The afternoon is well along,” answered the Professor.

“It’ll be dark soon,” spoke up Ned. “We simply must get out of this before night or we are lost.”

“You forget about the length of the days up here at this time of the year,” reminded Tad with a faint smile.

“That’s so,” agreed Rector.

“You know it doesn’t get really dark until about eleven o’clock to-night. So you see we have plenty of time in which to get that pack and reach a camping place before the night gets too dark for us to see what we are about.”

Tad stepped to the edge of the trail and looked over the dead mule and the pack lashed to him. He saw that the pack already had slipped dangerously, and that a sudden jolt might send it hurtling into the chasm. The lad measured the distance to the pack, with his eyes, and also saw that he could not lean over far enough to accomplish anything. Then an idea occurred to him.

“Have you fellows got back your nerve so that you can help me?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” answered Chunky promptly. “Anything but jumping over. Don’t ask me to do that, please, or I shall be under the necessity of returning a polite refusal.”

“I shan’t ask you,” answered Tad shortly. “How about you, Ned?”

“I think I have got over my panic.”

“Good. Pass over two strong ropes here. We’ll have that pack in no time.”

“See here, Tad. I am not going to permit you to take unnecessary risks. Before you go farther in this matter I want to know what you propose to do,” insisted the Professor.

“I am going to secure one of these ropes to me. The boys will lower me over the edge and I will fasten a second rope to the pack. I will tell you what to do after that.”

“I can’t permit it!” answered the Professor decisively.

“Listen to me, please. There can be no possible danger. It is perfectly simple. Before I go over I’ll secure the rope to that rock, and in case the boys let go, which they’d better not, I can’t fall; the rope will hold me.”

After a moment’s reflection Professor Zepplin concluded that the task would not be attended with a very great risk after all. Besides, it was all-important that they get the pack and its contents, if this could be done without endangering any lives.

“How about it, sir?” asked Tad. “Time is precious.”

“You may try it, but I shall see to the fastening of the rope myself. Make your arrangements.”

Tad lost no time in trying out his plan. He first secured one end of their strongest rope to the rock that already had played such an important part in their operations at that point. He next fashioned a non-slip loop about his body under the arms, then taking the second rope in his hands announced himself as ready.

“Take a turn about the rock so you will have a leverage. Take up all the slack. That’s it. Now I’m all ready.”

The lad let himself over the edge of the precipice without hesitation. There really was no great danger, but it was not a pleasant position in which to be placed. He secured his rope to the pack lashings and tossed the free end up to his friends.

“How are you going to free the pack from the mule?” asked the Professor.

“Cut it.”

“But we can’t manage both you and the pack at the same time,” protested the boys.

“You don’t have to. Can’t you folks think of two things at the same time?”

“I can when my thinking apparatus is working,” returned Stacy. “The whole plant is idle at the present moment.”

“Listen! Fasten the pack rope to that rock. Do you get that?”

“Yes.”

“First take up all the slack or you may lose the pack after all. We don’t want any great jolt when I cut loose the lashings. Draw it up well. Tighter! There, that’s better. Now, have you got it so that it will hold?”

“It’ll hold as long as the mountain holds together,” answered Ned.

“Then watch your rope. Here goes.”

Tad slit the cinch girth. He was obliged to make several efforts before he freed the pack, which then swung out and away from the dead mule, swaying back and forth for a moment or so, but safe. The boys uttered a cheer.

“Now shall we pull you up?” cried Ned.

“Now, don’t be in a hurry. I’m not done yet. I want to save my lasso. You don’t think I’m going to throw that away, do you? Pass me another rope, please.”

This was done, after which Butler secured the third rope about the neck of the mule. He tossed the free end up as he had done with the other line.

“Make it fast. First see if you can’t give me a little slack.”

“Can’t do it,” called Walter.

“Yes you can. Try again. That’s the idea. A little more. You’re doing finely. You would make good sailors. Whoa! Make fast.”

Grunting and perspiring, and with aching backs, the boys made fast the advantage they had gained. The weight of the dead mule was now resting on the new rope which Butler had fastened about its neck. Some time was occupied in getting his lasso loose, which had drawn very tight under the weight of the mule.

“That’s what comes from having a good rope,” said Tad.

“Well, are you coming up? You must like it down there,” cried Rector.

“I’m almost ready. There, now see if you can get me up. Take up all your advantage and hold it until I can get my hands on the ledge and help you a little.”

Hauling Tad Butler up, a dead weight, was not the easiest thing in the world. They drew him up an inch or so at a time, until at last he fastened his hands on the edge of the trail and curled himself up. The boys took up the slack and made fast at his direction.

“You needn’t pull any more, but stand by the rope. If I slip it will give me a hard jolt.”

“I should say it would,” muttered Ned. “How are you going to get up the rest of the way if we don’t haul you?”

“This way.”

Tad crawled up the rope hand over hand until he was able to swing one foot over on the trail. The rest was easy, and a moment later he was standing on the trail, his face red, his hair and shirt wet with perspiration.

“Hooray!” bellowed Chunky.

“Wait until we get the pack up. Don’t waste your breath,” grinned Tad. “We are only half finished.”

The lad surveyed the situation critically. Still he saw no other way than for them to haul the pack up by main strength. He told his companions to get ready for real work. The pack was heavier than Tad.

“I–I can’t do another thing,” wailed Chunky.

“Why can’t you?” demanded the Professor.

“My heart won’t stand it.”

“Oh, pooh!” scoffed Professor Zepplin.

“Did you ever have a thorough physical examination, Chunky?” questioned Ned.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“If you had you would no doubt have found that you hadn’t any heart at all.”

“Now, Ned, that isn’t fair,” chided Tad laughingly. “You know Stacy has a heart. He has shown many times that he has. The only trouble with it is that it isn’t as hard as it might be,” added the freckle-faced boy with a twinkle.

The fat boy wasn’t quite sure whether this was a compliment or otherwise. He decided to think about it and make up his mind later. But he most emphatically refused to pull a single pound on the rope. They compromised by making him look out for the stock.

Hauling the pack up was a slow and tedious process, for it was continually catching on points of rock and threatening to drop into the depths. Great patience was required to land it safely on the trail, but land it they did after working and perspiring over it for nearly half an hour. The Professor proposed that they move on at once, after having divided the pack. Tad shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “I’ve something else to do first.”