. Nobody else could imitate that whistle so
perfectly," returned his brother.

"Oh, let us go on! We must get to him," went on Sam, impatiently.
"Maybe that whistle will bring him to his right senses, Dick!"

"I'm afraid that is too much to expect, Sam. But I am glad he
remembered the whistle, anyway. It shows that he hasn't forgotten
everything."

"Let us yell that we are coming, and for them to wait," suggested the
old miner.

"That's it," answered Dick. "Now then, I'll lead off."

And loud and clear rang the cry:

"_We are coming! We are coming! Wait for us! Wait! Wait!_"

To this some answer came back, but what it was they could not make out.
Then, in the silence that followed, they picked up their traps once
more and went forward on the wearisome trail.

With each yard of advance the walking became more difficult. In some
spots the rocks were covered with snow and they had to proceed with
caution, for fear of a nasty tumble. They were climbing upward
steadily and they noted with satisfaction that the cliffs seemed to
become correspondingly lower.

"We'll be up there in quarter of an hour more," said Jack Wumble. "But
don't ye try to go too fast. This trail is gittin' wuss an' wuss."

At last they came to some rocks where further progress seemed
impossible. There had been something of a landslide, and big rocks
covered the footpath for a distance of a hundred feet or more.

They gazed around the spot in perplexity.

"Well, one thing is certain," said Sam. "Tom and that man must have
come this way, If they could get over these rocks we ought to be able
to do the same thing."

"I think I see a way," said Dick. "Yes, here are some footprints in
the snow and on this fallen tree. They climbed up by holding on to
those branches. We can do the same thing."

"Don't ye try it!" yelled Jack Wumble. "Thet tree is loose! It might
carry ye to the bottom of the mountain!"

"Hark!" called out Sam. "I hear something! What is that?"

All listened. From a distance came a curious swishing and cracking
sound, followed by a wild sort of yell. Then came a crash--and
then--utter silence.

CHAPTER XXII

IKE FURNER'S CAMP

"Dick, what was that?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Sam. Sounded like something falling."

"It was a tree sliding down the mountain," put in Jack Wumble. "A tree
jest like the one you was goin' to take hold on."

"And somebody on it!" gasped Sam. "Oh, do you suppos