On the Trail of Pontiac | Page 7

was already at work, blowing up the fire for his mother.
"If this keeps on, it will be a couple of feet deep by nightfall."
As there was but little to do that morning, Dave and Henry took their
time in dressing. After breakfast they set about cleaning the wild
turkeys and the rabbits. The feathers of the turkeys were saved and also
the rabbits' skins, for all would come in useful, sooner or later, around
the cabin home.
"The wind is rising once more," remarked Joseph Morris in the middle
of the afternoon, after a trip to the cattle shed, to see that the stock were
safe. "It is blowing the snow in all directions."
The boys had been out, trying to clean a path to the spring, but found
their labors unavailing. So they filled a cask which stood in the pantry
with water, that they might not fall short of this necessary commodity
should they become completely snowed in.
Nightfall was at hand, and the wind was whistling 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