CHAPTER XI
FROM ONE HARDSHIP TO ANOTHER
"I guess I was right about the rain," remarked Phil, grimly, as the drops pattered unceasingly on the cover of the automobile.
"You sure were, Phil!" cried Belle. "It's coming down just as hard as ever it can."
"If only the wind would stop blowing!" said Jessie. "Do you think there is any danger of our being blown over?"
"Oh, it isn't as bad as all that," answered Dave.
A few minutes later Mr. Porter espied a suitable place under several large trees, and here he brought the touring-car to a standstill. Then the Basswood car come close alongside.
"Going to put on the chains?" called out Mr. Basswood, to make himself heard above the noise of the elements.
"I think we had better," returned Dave's uncle. "I imagine we've quite a hill to descend a little farther on."
There were raincoats in each touring-car, and these were now donned by Dave and his uncle, and by Ben and his father. Then the chains for the back wheels for both automobiles were brought forth.
Even under the thick foliage of the trees the rain was coming down, although of course not nearly as hard as on the roadway beyond. The chains were straightened out on the grass, and each automobile was backed up a little so that the articles might be fastened on. The task took but a few minutes, and then those who had accomplished it got back into the machines.
"I'll lead the way," called out Mr. Porter. "You had better not follow me too closely."
"Very well, I'll watch out," answered Mr. Basswood.
"Uncle Dunston, don't you want to let me drive?" queried Dave. "I've had a little more experience at it than you have had."
"I can do it, Dave," was the reply. "But, at the same time, if you think it would be safer, take the wheel. I must own up that I'd rather be on a horse or behind one than steering a car like this in such a storm."
Dave squeezed himself into the driver's seat, and a moment later they were off again over the plateau of the hill, and then down the other side.
The wind was blowing as furiously as ever, and now from a distance came the low rumble of thunder.
"O dear! What is that?" cried Laura.
"I guess it was thunder, but I don't think it will amount to anything," returned Roger.
The bottom of the hill gained, they traversed a narrow valley for a distance of seven or eight miles. Then came another climb over a winding highway, which at certain points was filled with loose stones and dirt.
"Be careful, Dave. We don't want to do any skidding," cautioned the youth's uncle.
"I'm watching out all I can," was the grim reply. Dave was bending over the steering-wheel, trying his best to see through the windshield. "I guess I'll have to open it a little," he went on, nodding in the direction of the glass.
"I'll do it for you," answered Dunston Porter, and threw out the upper side of the shield.
By this means Dave was able to get a clear vision of the roadway directly in front of the machine. But the opening of the windshield let in considerable of the driving rain.
"Oh, Dave, you'll get wet from the knees down!" cried Jessie, solicitously.
"Can't help it," he replied. "I can't see with the windshield closed."
The rumblings of thunder had increased, and now from over a distant hill came various streaks of lightning. The sky was much darker, and in order to see better, Dave turned on the electric lights. Looking back, those in the tonneau of the forward car saw that the Basswood machine was also lighted. By the time the top of the next hill was gained, a distance of fully a mile, the thunderstorm was on them in all its fury. The wind tore through the woods, sending leaves and small branches flying in all directions. From the north and the west came vivid flashes of lightning, followed by sharp claps of thunder, which rolled and rumbled across the hills and mountains.
"O dear, if we only had some place to stop!" cried Jessie, timorously.
"There isn't any sort of a building in sight," replied Dunston Porter, who had been looking on all sides for some time. "If there was I'd have Dave head for it pretty quick."
"According to the map we ought to be within a few miles of Simpson's Corners," said Roger. "How about it, Dave?"
"Just what I was thinking," answered our hero. "I was wondering if it wasn't on the other side of the next rise."
They were running along another small valley, at the end of which was a sharp turn to the left and a rise of several hundred feet. Here the downfall of rain had flooded the road for a considerable distance. Coming to this place Dave had to slow down, but he still kept on some power, not wishing to get stuck.
"Can you make it, Dave?" asked his uncle, anxiously, as the chains of the automobile ground deeply into the mud and loose stones.
"We've got to make it, Uncle Dunston!" cried the boy, grimly.
The car proceeded more and more slowly even with the power turned on. Dave had been running in second gear, but now he came down to low. Mud and stones flew in all directions, while the water was splashed out on both sides as if coming from geysers. Then, with one last effort, the automobile left the level roadway and started up the hill beyond.
The Wadsworth car was almost at the top of the rise when a turn in the road enabled its occupants to see the second car.
"Look!" burst out Roger. "I do believe they're stuck!"
"Stuck! Do you mean in that wet place?" asked Dave, quickly.
"That's it," put in Phil. "They are stuck just as sure as you're born!" he added, a second later.
The forward car had now reached a spot on the side of the hill which was comparatively level, so that Dave had no trouble in coming to a halt. It was still raining as furiously as ever, and the thunder and lightning were just as incessant. Looking down on the wet portion of the road below them, they saw that the Basswood car was standing still, with water and mud half way up to the hubs.
"He has shut off the power! That's no way to do!" cried Dave. "He ought to keep his engine going, and either try to go forward or backward. If he stands still he will sink deeper than ever."
"He's trying to back now, Dave," returned Phil, and he was right.
Soon they saw the wheels of the Basswood car revolving rapidly, and the turnout itself moved slowly to the rear. Then Ben must have reversed the power, for the car came forward, but this time headed for the left side of the road.
"I don't think he'll gain much by that move," observed Dave. "I tried it, and found it rather soft over there."
"Look, he is backing again!" cried Laura. "O dear! Whatever will he do if he gets stuck fast?"
"Let us hope that nothing like that happens," answered her uncle, gravely.
But that was just what did happen, and although both Ben and his father did their best to free the car from the mud, it was without avail. They managed to get to within fifteen feet of the end of the wet place, and there they stayed, unable to budge either forward or backward.
"Listen! he is sounding his horn!" cried Roger, during a brief lull in the storm.
"I guess he wants us to come back and help pull him out," answered Dave, and sounded a reply to show that he had heard the call of distress.
"What are you going to do, Dave – try to turn around here or back down?" asked Roger.
"Oh, it's too narrow to turn here!" cried Laura, in alarm.
"You'll have us all over in the ditch if you don't look out!" came from one of the others in the car.
"I see a little wider spot further ahead," answered Dave, and turned on the power once more.
Soon he had reached the place in question, and there, by skillful maneuvering, he managed to turn the touring-car the other way. Then he came down the hill slowly until within a few feet of the bad spot in the highway.
"Hello there!" called out Mr. Basswood. "I guess you'll have to get out that towing-rope again and give us a lift."
"Just what I thought," answered Dave. "We'll have it out in a jiffy."
He and his uncle alighted once more, taking with them the towing-rope that had been used before. Mr. Basswood was already out of the car, standing in water and mud over his shoe-tops.
"Here, catch the rope!" called out our hero, and sent one end whirling toward the other car in true cowboy fashion – a trick he had learned while staying at Star Ranch.
Mr. Basswood caught the rope, and soon had it adjusted to the front axle of the car. In the meanwhile Dave and his uncle fastened the other end to the rear axle of their own turnout.
"Now then, turn on your power when I sound my horn," directed Dave.
"Right you are!" yelled back Ben, who was at the wheel.
Mr. Porter remained on the ground to watch proceedings, while Dave re-entered the Wadsworth machine and turned on the power. Then our hero sounded the horn and began to advance. The towing-rope strained and cracked, and threatened for a moment to snap. Slowly the Wadsworth car went ahead inch by inch. The rear wheels of the Basswood machine churned the water and mud furiously.
"Say! we don't seem to be getting out of this very fast," remarked Shadow, who was in the rear car beside Mrs. Basswood.
"Put on all your power, Ben. It's the only thing you can do," ordered the lad's father.
The rear wheels of the second machine ground deeper into the mud and loose stones, throwing them and the water up into the air and even onto the cover of the machine. The towing-rope continued to creak ominously.
"Be on guard, everybody, if that rope breaks!" cried Mr. Basswood, warningly. He knew that if the towing-line parted near one end or the other there was grave danger of the flying rope coming back to damage one of the machines.
Inch by inch the second car moved forward. Dave had not dared to turn on all power, fearing to snap the towing-line, but now, as the second machine gained a little headway, he added power steadily.
"Hurrah! Here we come!" shouted Luke, in a tone of relief. And a few seconds later the Basswood car rolled out of the water and mud to the comparatively dry roadway ahead.
"Say, that was some stunt – to get out of there!" was Shadow's comment.
"I'm mighty glad the other car was here to help us," answered Ben. "If it hadn't been here I guess we would have stayed there for a while," he added, grimly.
"I think both our cars will need washing after this trip," observed Dave, with a grin, as he coiled up the towing-line once more and stowed it away.
"This sure is some ending to this trip!" observed Ben, making a wry face.
"We haven't seen the end of it yet, Ben," answered Dunston Porter. "There may be worse roads than this ahead. I don't believe they are very good around Carpen Falls."
With the rain pelting down unceasingly, the two cars proceeded on the journey. The thunder and lightning had let up a little, but now, as the top of the next hill was gained, it seemed to become more violent than before.
"Oh, this is dreadful!" cried Jessie, as a particularly bright flash lit up the interior of the automobile. "What if we should be struck!"
"Let us hope that nothing like that happens!" answered Laura. Her face, too, showed her alarm.
"I think I saw some sort of a village ahead," cried Dave, who had been peering intently through the windshield. "I think I saw the white steeple of a church."
"Maybe it's Simpson's Corners," suggested Belle.
"I hope there is a hotel there and a garage," said Dunston Porter. "We'll want to have a chance to dry ourselves and get supper."
"Then you don't think we'll reach Carpen Falls to-night?" questioned Phil.
"I don't know what to think, Phil. Perhaps we may – "
Mr. Porter did not finish what he was saying. Just at that instant came a vivid flash of lightning that nearly blinded them. It was followed by an ear-splitting crash of thunder. Then came another crash closer by, and an instant later Dave and his uncle saw a large tree fall directly toward the roadway in front of them!
CHAPTER XII
A STROKE OF LIGHTNING
"Look out!"
"We are going into that tree!"
"Jam on both brakes, Dave, just as hard as you can!" cried Dunston Porter.
Even before his uncle had spoken Dave had pressed down both feet hard, thus putting on the foot-brake and releasing the gear-clutch. Now his hand shot over to the emergency brake, and this came up with all the power at his command. But the grade was downward, and the road slippery from the rain, and instead of stopping, the touring-car went on, sliding through the mud and over the rocks until it was practically on top of the tree. Then came a jar that threw everybody forward. The steering-wheel saved Dave, but his uncle's elbow struck the windshield, cracking it in several places.
"Look, we've run into a tree!"
"Did the lightning hit the machine?"
"Say, Roger, take yourself off my feet; will you?"
This last cry came from Phil, who was huddled up in a corner of the tonneau.
"It isn't me, it's the handbag, Phil," gasped out Roger, who hung partly over the front seat of the touring-car.
"Anybody hurt?" questioned Dunston Porter quickly, as soon as the shock had come to an end.
"I – I – think I am all right, Uncle Dunston," panted Laura. "But dear me! wasn't it awful?"
"I thought I was going to fly right over Dave's head," wailed Jessie, who had come up behind the youth with a great thump. "Oh, Dave, did I hurt you?"
"Knocked a little of the wind out of me, Jessie; that's all," he answered. "But I won't mind that if only you are not hurt."
"Say, that was some stop, believe me!" was Phil's grim comment, as he managed to straighten up and look ahead. "Stuffed mackerel! what did we try to do, Dave – climb a tree?"
"No. We tried to take a running jump and go over it," replied Roger, with a faint attempt at humor.
"Sound the horn, Dave, as loudly as you can!" cried his uncle, quickly. "We must warn the others." And thus admonished, Dave put his finger on the button of the electric horn and held it down for some time. Looking backward, those in the Wadsworth car soon saw the Basswood machine come into sight and then slow down. The heavy clap of thunder was now followed by another fierce downfall of rain, while the sky grew blacker than ever. In the midst of this outburst the second touring-car came slowly forward.
"Did the lightning strike you?" yelled Ben.
"No. But we had a close call of it," answered Mr. Porter. "It hit this tree when we were less than one hundred and fifty feet away. Then the tree came down as you see, and we ploughed right into it."
"Phew! That's some escape!" was Mr. Basswood's comment. "Anything broken?"
"We don't know yet," answered Dave.
He alighted from the car, and his uncle did likewise. An examination showed that one of the mudguards in front had been badly bent, and that a headlight had snapped off, but beyond this, and the windshield, the big touring-car seemed to be undamaged.
"I'm thankful it's no worse," remarked Dunston Porter.
"It's too bad the light had to go," returned Dave. "It will make running at night rather dangerous until we can get it fixed."
"Oh, let us be thankful that no one was hurt!" cried Laura.
While Dave and his uncle had been examining the car, Mr. Basswood and the others had been looking for some way around the tree, which covered the roadway completely.
"I think I see a path through yonder trees," said Ben, pointing to his left. "The ground seems to be pretty good there, and I think the opening is plenty large enough for our cars."
Mr. Basswood moved forward in the direction his son indicated, and soon called to Ben to start the car. He led the way on foot, and the machine followed slowly. They passed in and out among several trees, and then emerged once more on the highway, some distance beyond the obstruction.
"Hurrah! That's the way to do it!" cried Luke. "Now the others can back up and follow us."
"So they can," answered Shadow. "But what about leaving that tree in the roadway? It's mighty dangerous, and will be more so after dark."
"We can notify the authorities at Simpson's Corners," said Mr. Basswood. "They can send somebody up here with a lantern."
He went back to tell the others of what had been accomplished, and soon the Wadsworth car was backed out from between the branches of the tree that shut off the highway.
"Well, I think the rain is letting up a little, anyway," announced Roger, after the two touring-cars were once more under way. And he was right. That last downfall seemed to clear the sky, and soon they saw the clouds scattering.
Wet from end to end, and covered with mud, the two automobiles rolled into the little settlement that went by the name of Simpson's Corners. Here an old man named Simpson kept a general store to which, in the rear, was attached a small livery stable and garage.
"You certainly must have had some trip over the hills in this storm," remarked Mr. Simpson, after the party had trooped into his place. "It's about as heavy a rainfall as we have had in some time. Where are you bound?"
"We wanted to get to Carpen Falls if we could," answered Dunston Porter. "But perhaps we'll stay in Simpson's Corners, if there are any accommodations."
"Ain't no hotel here," answered the storekeeper. "Used to be one some years ago, but it didn't pay, so the feller that run it gave it up. But Mrs. Whittle serves lunch to travelers if you are hungry."
"Me for Mrs. Whittle's!" whispered Phil.
"Good gracious, Phil! You seem to be hungry all the time on this trip," was Belle's good-natured comment.
"Maybe if we stay here an hour or two it will clear off," said Dave, who was examining the sky closely. "I think the storm is shifting very rapidly."
"I believe you're right, Dave," answered his uncle. "Yes, we'll stay here and get dried out a little, if nothing else."
It was learned that Mrs. Whittle's place was just across the street, and the lady said she would be very glad to furnish them with a hot supper, and added that they could come in and dry themselves in her sitting-room, where she started an open fire. The machines were placed in Mr. Simpson's garage, and they purchased from the storekeeper some gasoline and oil.
"Only a little after five o'clock," announced Roger. "I think by six o'clock the storm will be over," he added.
While they were eating the supper provided by Mrs. Whittle, it stopped raining, and a little later they saw the setting sun over the hills to the westward.
"How many miles is it to Carpen Falls from here?" asked Luke.
"Fourteen by the automobile blue book," answered Dave.
"And what of the road?" questioned Ben.
"Mr. Simpson said it wasn't so bad but that it might be worse," answered Dunston Porter, who had been interviewing the storekeeper and who had told the man about the fallen tree, having learned that Mr. Simpson was the head of the township committee.
"We don't want to get stuck, especially after it gets dark," said Ben.
"I wish we could stay here," sighed Mrs. Basswood. "But there don't seem to be any accommodations."
"Oh, we'll get through; come ahead!" cried Dave. "If we don't reach Carpen Falls to-night Mr. and Mrs. Wadsworth will worry about us."
Feeling in somewhat better spirits after having eaten, and after having had an opportunity to dry themselves, the tourists brought out their automobiles again, and soon Simpson's Corners was left behind. They had a long hill to climb, and then the road wound in and out among some particularly rough rocks. Then they came out along the edge of a cliff with a vast panorama of woods and waters below them.
"Oh, isn't it perfectly lovely!" cried Belle.
"If I'm not mistaken, Mirror Lake lies off in that direction," said Dunston Porter, pointing with his hand. "That sheet of water away off yonder may be it."
Leaving the cliff, the road wound in and out of the forest for a distance of several miles. Then they came to another little valley, in which the highway was wet and, in some spots, suspiciously spongy.
"Now then, Dave, be careful," warned his uncle. "We don't want to get stuck if we can possibly help it."
"I'll do my best, Uncle Dunston," was the answer.
With the wheels sucking and sousing in the mud, the Wadsworth machine moved forward as rapidly as the conditions would permit. Close behind was the Basswood car, and this time Ben took care not to let the engine slow down too much. Once Dave was afraid that he was going to be stuck, but in a few seconds the danger was past, and in two minutes more they were out on the solid roadway once more.
"We are coming to some sort of a settlement!" cried Mr. Porter, after several miles more had been covered. "See, there it is – right down at the foot of this hill!"
"It must be Carpen Falls," announced Dave. "See, there are the Falls off to the right!" and he pointed to where a fair-sized stream of water came down between the trees and fell over the rocks. The Falls were fifteen to twenty feet high, and made a beautiful sight.
Carpen Falls was a settlement of some importance, for the campers on the lakes for miles around came there to do their trading. There were two general stores, one containing the post-office, and also a blacksmith's shop, livery stable and garage combined, and a small summer hotel.
"Oh, look! My father and mother!" cried Jessie, as the two machines rolled up to the hotel.
To the surprise of all, Mr. and Mrs. Wadsworth stood on the piazza watching their approach.
"Oh, we thought you would never get here!" cried Mrs. Wadsworth, in relief. "We thought sure you had had some sort of accident on the road."
"And how is it you are here?" asked Dave, quickly.
"We came in this morning to do some trading at the store," answered Mr. Wadsworth. "We were going back, when it began to storm so hard that we decided to stay here until the rain let up, and until you arrived. It certainly was a hard downpour!"
"We came pretty near having several accidents," answered Ben. And then after the party had alighted, they told of the various happenings on the journey.
"We can remain here all night if you want to," announced the jewelry manufacturer. "But if you would rather go on to the bungalows I think we can make it. There are two old stages here, and the drivers are perfectly willing to make the trip."
"Now we have gotten so far, let us finish the trip," urged Laura. "I think I would rather be at the bungalows than at this hotel," she added, with a look around that hostelry – a place that was not particularly inviting.
"But you'll want supper first; won't you?" questioned Mrs. Wadsworth.
"We had something to eat at Simpson's Corners," answered her daughter.
The stages that Mr. Wadsworth had mentioned were certainly old-fashioned and dilapidated, but each was drawn by a pair of sturdy horses, and the drivers said that they were perfectly safe and could make the journey to Mirror Lake without trouble. So, having transferred the baggage from the automobiles to these ancient vehicles, and having placed the touring-cars in the garage, with orders to have the damaged car repaired, our friends piled into the turnouts, and then, with various calls to the animals and loud crackings of the whips, the two stages started for Bear Camp.