can watch out and easily keep out of their way.”
To get to the road that led to Lodgeport, the two lads had to cross a heavy patch of timber. Here, under the pines, it was intensely cold, and they had to move along rapidly to keep their blood in circulation.
“Talk about Greenland’s icy mountains, I guess this is bad enough!” cried Chet, as he slapped his hands to keep them warm.
“We’ll soon be out in the sunlight again,” answered Andy. But he was mistaken, for by the time they reached the open country once more, the sun had gone under a fringe of light clouds, so it was as cold as ever.
At the end of four miles they passed through one of the lumber settlements, and then, leaving the wagon road, took to a trail running in the neighborhood of Moose Ridge.
“I met a man yesterday who was coming out to the Ridge to hunt,” said Andy. “Wonder if he’ll have any success.”
“Hunting is not as good as it might be,” answered his chum. “The best of the game was killed off at the very beginning of the season. Still, he may get some deer, or a moose, if he’s a good hunter.”
“I’d like to get a moose myself, Chet.”
“Oh, so would I. If you see one, kindly point him out to me.” And Chet’s usually serious face showed a grin.
“I will – after I have brought him down with my gun,” answered Andy, and then both laughed.
Less than fifteen minutes later they came on the trail of a deer. The marks were so fresh, both boys could not resist the temptation to go after the game. They plunged through some bushes, and Andy went headlong into a hollow.
“Wuow!” he spluttered, as the snow got into his ears and down his neck. “What a tumble!”
“Maybe you’re training for a circus,” cried Chet.
“Not out here – and in this cold. Help me up, will you?”
Chet gave his chum a hand, and slowly Andy came out of the hollow. He had dropped his firearm, but this was easily recovered from the snowdrift.
“I don’t want another such tumble,” said the unfortunate one, as he tried to get the snow out of his coat collar. “I’m cold enough already.”
Once more they went on, after the deer, but the game had evidently heard their voices and taken fright, for when they came to a long, open stretch, no living creature was in sight.
Another mile was covered in the direction of Lodgeport, and then they reached one end of the rock elevation locally termed Moose Ridge. Here there was a good-sized cliff, with smaller cliffs branching off in various directions.
“There used to be some good hunting around here,” said Chet, as, having climbed a small rise, they paused to catch their breath. “I once brought down a dandy buck over yonder.”
He had scarcely spoken, when from a distance ahead there sounded out the crack of a rifle, followed, a few moments later, by a second report.
“Somebody is out!” cried Andy. “Wonder if he hit what he was aiming at.”
“Maybe we’ll see. Come ahead.”
“I hope he isn’t shooting this way.”
“The reports came from the top of the big cliff.”
The two boys moved on, keeping their eyes on the alert for the possible appearance of the hunter who had fired the two shots.
“Look! look!” cried Andy, suddenly, and pointing over the top of a small tree that stood between them and the big cliff ahead.
“What did you see?”
“Maybe I was mistaken, but I thought I saw a man tumble off the cliff!”
“A man? Perhaps it was a deer, or a moose.”
“No, it looked like a man to me. Come on! If he fell to the bottom he may be killed!”
Andy set off as rapidly as the depth of the snow permitted, and Chet followed in his footsteps. Soon they rounded half a dozen trees and came in full view of the big cliff. Both uttered cries of horror, and with good reason.
Halfway down the edge of the cliff was a narrow ledge, and on this rested the body of a man, – a hunter, as was shown by his gun and game bag. He had tumbled from the top of the cliff, and the fall had rendered him unconscious. He lay half over the edge of the ledge, and was in imminent danger of falling still further and killing himself.
CHAPTER V – THE MAN ON THE LEDGE
“Is he dead?” questioned Chet, in a strained voice.
“I don’t know – but I don’t think so,” answered Andy. “He has certainly had a nasty tumble.”
“It looks to me as if he was going to tumble the rest of the way, unless he holds on.”
“Let us see if we can’t help him.”
Both youths stood their guns against a tree, and made their way to the bottom of the cliff. As they did this, they saw the man’s body shift slightly, and then came a low moan.
“He’s alive!” cried Andy. “Hi, there!” he shouted. “Look out for yourself, or you’ll get another tumble!”
To this, the man on the ledge did not answer. But the boys, listening intently, heard him moan again.
“I wonder if we can get at him?” mused Chet. “I don’t see any way up the cliff from here, do you?”
“Oh, we must find a way to get to him!” cried Andy.
“Maybe we can catch him if he falls. If we – Look out!”
Andy leaped to one side, and the next instant the man’s gun dropped down on the rocks and fell in the snow. The game bag followed. They now saw the man in his unconscious state turn partly over.
“He’ll fall sure, unless we help him,” said Chet. “But I don’t know what to do.”
“I have it,” returned his chum. “Come on.”
“Where to?”
“I’ll show you.”
Wondering what his friend had in mind to do, Chet followed Andy to where was located an ash sapling of fair size. It had been broken off about two feet above the ground – how, they could not tell.
“We can put that against the cliff, and use it as a ladder,” said Andy.
“Provided we can get it over, Andy.”
Both began to tug at the sapling, and at last got it free from the stump end. Then they fairly rushed with it to the bottom of the cliff.
“You hold the end, and I’ll raise it up,” said Chet, who was a little the stronger of the two. “We can put the top right against the man, and that will keep him from rolling down.”
“If
