On the Trail of Pontiac | Page 7

more fiercely than ever, when Henry chanced to go to the door, to see if the snow was covering the cattle shed.
As he looked out he heard a faint cry. He listened intently and soon the cry was repeated.
"Somebody is calling for help!" he exclaimed to the others.
"Where?" asked Joseph Morris quickly, and reached for his hat and greatcoat.
"I think the call came from yonder," answered the son, pointing in the direction.
"Was it Sam Barringford's voice?"
"I couldn't make out."
"Perhaps some traveler has lost his way," put in Rodney.
"We can go out and see," said Joseph Morris. He went to the doorway. "This way!" he shouted. "This way!"
"Help!" came back faintly. "Help!"
"We're coming!"
Joseph Morris was soon out of the house, and James Morris followed him. Without delay Mrs. Morris lit the lantern and hung it outside of the doorway, that they might see their way back, and also placed a candle in the window. The fire was stirred up, so that the one in trouble might be warmed up and given something hot to drink.
With the snow swirling in all directions around them, it was no easy matter for Joseph Morris and his brother to move forward to the spot from whence the cry for help had proceeded. In spots the snow lay three and four feet deep, and to pass through some of the drifts was out of the question.
"Sam, is it you?" called out James Morris presently.
"Yes!" was the feeble answer.
"Where are you?"
"Here, by the old split hickory. Jest about lost my wind, too."
"We'll soon be with you," answered James Morris.
There was a row of brushwood to the south of the split hickory tree, and in the shelter of this the Morrises moved forward as rapidly as possible. The keen wind cut like a knife, and they knew that it was this which had exhausted the old frontiersman they were trying to succor.
Almost blinded, and nearly out of wind themselves, they at last reached the split tree, to find Sam Barringford crouched behind a mass of the snow-laden branches. He had a large pack on his back and also a bundle in his arms.
Sam Barringford was a backwoodsman of a type that has long since vanished from our midst. He was between fifty and sixty years of age, tall, thin, and as straight as an arrow. He wore his hair and his beard long, and his heavy eyebrows sheltered a pair of small black eyes that were as penetrating as those of any wild beast. He was a skilled marksman, and at following a trail had an instinct almost equal to that of the red men with whom he had so often come in contact. He was dressed in a long hunting shirt and furs, and wore a coonskin cap, with the tail of the animal hanging over his shoulder.
"Winded, eh?" remarked Joseph Morris laconically.
"Why didn't you throw down your packs and leave 'em?"
"Couldn't leave this 'ere pack nohow," returned Barringford, nodding at the bundle in his arms.
"Why not? Nobody is going to steal it tonight, I reckon."
"Taint that, Joe; the bundle's alive."
"What!"
"Babies--two on 'em, too."
"I vow!" put in James Morris. "Babies! Give them to me and I'll carry 'em to the house. Joe, you give Sam a lift, if he needs it."
James Morris took the precious bundle, while his brother relieved the old frontiersman of the pack on his back and took the latter's arm. The return to the cabin was made without delay, James Morris getting there some minutes before Joseph managed to arrive with Barringford clinging to his arm.
"Sam has brought a couple of babies, Lucy!" said James Morris, as he rushed up to the fireside and proceeded to open the bundle in his arms.
"I do declare!" gasped Mrs. Morris. "Babies! Where did he get them?"
"I don't know, but--Oh!"
The bundle had burst open, and there to the astonished gaze of all gathered around were presented to view two little fat and chubby boy babies, each about a year of age.
"Oh, the dear little things!" cried Mrs. Morris, snatching up one of them and hugging it to her breast. "Are you alive?"
For answer the baby boy set up a faint cry and this was immediately answered by a similar cry from the other baby. Then arose a grand chorus which left no doubt of the facts that the babies were alive and that each possessed a good pair of lungs and full knowledge of how to use them.
"Warm them up, James, while I get them some pap," said Mrs. Morris.
"Oh, the nice little babies!" put in little Nell, crowding close to touch the soft and somewhat cold cheeks. "And such pretty eyes, too, and such soft hair! Mamma, I think they are just too beautiful for anything!"
While Mrs. Morris was preparing some pap and some warm milk