"It's a good thing—this prison—-was built by—convict labour," he muttered at intervals, as he plied his knife—" good for us, I mean." A moment later he tore the bayonet from the rifle which Maurice had brought with him, and after a few jabs with the further-reaching weapon, announced that the log was loose. He prized the bayonet in one end, while Maurice used the wedge at the other extremity. Then, working in concert, the log was gradually drawn in, until Platoff was able to grasp and lower it to the ground. The hole thus made was a foot and a half high by six feet long. Outside was revealed the thickly-falling snow and the grey outlines of the palisade.
"The coast is clear," said Platoff, after a brief survey. "The glare from the fires is visible at each end of the passage, but I don't think there is much danger of being disturbed. I don't intend to run any risks, though, so you two will remain inside till all is ready."
He nimbly crept through the aperture, and with the bayonet began to work at one of the big boards of the palisade.
It was harder work than he had expected. He inserted his bayonet first on one side, then on the other, but the board was firmly in place.
Then he put too much strength into the effort and his weapon snapped sharply in two. At this critical moment death and disaster stared the fugitives in the face. Their best weapon broken, of what avail would be the knife or the wedge? Platoff flung the fragments on the ground, and turned to the boys with a gesture of despair.
"I fear we are lost," he said, hoarsely. "The stockade is firmer than I supposed. It is impossible to loosen any of the planks without tools. And even now our time must be nearly up."
"Ah, I have a plan," whispered Maurice. "The stockade cannot be more than fifteen feet high. Take this log outside and stand it on end. I will mount the log, and you, Platoff, shall climb over my back to the top. You are strong enough to pull us both after you, are you not?"
* * *
CHAPTER XVII
"Yes, yes," exclaimed Platoff, "was I not blind not to think of it before. Pass me that log out as quickly as possible. But it is more dangerous," he added; "from the top of stockade we may be seen by the men on guard in the sentry-house outside. But it is our last chance, We must not think of the risk."
During this conversation, Platoff was standing in the narrow avenue, in plain view of any sentry who might chance that way, just around the angles were twenty or thirty armed soldiers. Maurice and Phil lifted the heavy log and shoved one end at right angles through the opening. It stuck fast several times, but Platoff by main force dragged it clear, and lifting it in his arms placed it at a slight angle against the stockade.
"Now come on," he whispered, and assisting Maurice through the hole he lifted him to the top of the log. Bidding him cling firmly to the boards he mounted behind him. A clever spring landed him on Maurice's shoulders, and a second later he was straddling the stockade.
"Is the coast clear?" whispered Maurice.
Platoff made no reply. His face expressed sudden terror, but the darkness concealed this from his companions. The distance from Maurice's head to the top of the stockade was less than four feet. Bending down in silence, Platoff grasped the lad's outstretched hands, and drew him quickly to the top. Phil instantly gained the vacant place on the log, and, in less time than it takes to tell, he too was safely on the summit of the stockade.
"Not a sound for your lives," whispered Platoff, and, with a trembling hand, he pointed through the driving snow to a dark object some twenty yards distant.
"The sentry," he whispered; "his back is turned. We must drop together and run. Don't lose sight of me."
At this moment, when the danger was most critical, a starting interruption came from the prison-yard. Round the front angle strode a sentinel, rifle on shoulder. He marched down the avenue beneath the very noses of the frightened fugitives staring straight ahead under the visor of his cap. He failed to see the log projecting from the stockade, and catching his foot on the end, down he went with a crash full length on the ground.
"Jump quick!" whispered Platoff, and all three sprang from the stockade together, landing heavily on the snowy crust below.
"Don't rise," said Platoff; "follow me on hands and knees." He crawled away into the darkness at a speed which the boys found difficult to equal, glancing to their right, they saw the sentry still motionless at his post; whether he was facing them or not, it was impossible to tell. Foot by foot they left the stockade behind, and still the silence was unbroken. Then on the night air rose a single loud cry. It was answered by a shout, and then another and another boom thundered the little cannon in the courtyard, and the echoes quivered through the valley
Platoff leaped to his feet. "The alarm gun," he exclaimed. "The whole settlement knows we are free. Run as you never ran before, and keep me always in sight."
With great strides he plunged forward over the snow. Close at his heels came Maurice and Phil, amazed at their own speed. The sentry. catching a fleeting glimpse of the fugitives, raised his rifle and fired. The bullet whistled overhead. He fired again and again, shooting aimlessly into the night.
Six times the rifle cracked, and the red flash blazed briefly athwart the darkness. Then came silence—an ominous, fateful calm, and the daring fugitives fleeing across the valley heard nothing but the rapid tramp of their own footsteps. In single file they sped over the deepening snow, facing the cutting blast and breathing quickly through closed teeth.
Platoff ran at the head, every muscle strained, his ear alert to catch the faintest sound. From time to time he uttered cheering words to his companions.
Before them and on both sides was darkness, but looking over their shoulders, they saw the twinkling lights of the prison still perilously close at hand.
Twice Maurice stumbled, exhausted by the fearful strain, but Platoff dragged him to his feet with new encouragement.
Then Phil gave out almost entirely, and his companions had to help him along between them.
"You must keep up," said Platoff, impatiently. "See, we are on the downward slope now. The river is not far off. Once there, we are comparatively safe."
"Listen! what is that?" cried Maurice, and as he spoke, a dull noise was heard in the distance that seemed to grow more distinct every second. Platoff threw himself upon his knees, and put his ear to the ground. "As I thought," he exclaimed. "the mounted Cossacks are coming. They will spread in all directions, and carry on the search in squads of three and four. Now is the time to show your speed. Here, give me a hand, each of you."
He dashed off again, fairly dragging his companions with him Faster and faster they ran, louder and louder grew the trampling of hoofs in their rear, and then, with a sudden effort, they checked themselves on the bank of the Kara.
"He we are!" exclaimed Platoff, fervently; "there is one important thing in our favour. The direction in which we must go is the very last one that will be suspected. But it will be a very terrible ordeal, and full of suffering. Can you endure it, do you think?"
"What do you mean?" asked Maurice, not quite catching his meaning.
"The water," was the reply—" the icy channel of the river. We must wade for several miles. It is our last and only hope."
Little wonder that the boys recoiled at this prospect. They were suffering intensely now from the bitter cold. Platoff gave them no time for deliberation.
He plunged sturdily off the bank into the running waters and they followed without hesitation. The Kara River is a river only in name. The channel is shallow and not more than thirty yards broad at the widest part. The water flows swiftly over a gravel bed and among big stones that rise in profusion above the surface. Being fed entire[ly] by mountain springs it never freezes in winter, though a fringe of ice forms on the edges and floating cakes are borne down with the current. The fugitives waded into mid-stream through water waist-deep.
"We must throw these bloodhounds off the track," said Platoff, "and I think I know how to do it."
He led the way across to the other shore, and climbed out on the bank.
"Now come with me," he said to Maurice. "No, you stay here, right on this rock," he added to Phil, who started to follow, "two of us will be enough."
He dashed off at right angles to the stream, and halted thirty or forty yards from the bank. Then still facing forward, he began to take great strides backwards towards the river, bidding Maurice do the same.
"It will appear as though there were four of us," he remarked, "but no one will notice that."
"But what will they do when they come to the end of our tracks?" asked Maurice.
"They won't wait that long," laughed Platoff. "If they discover that we have crossed the river at this point, they will dash off at full speed without attempting to stick to our footprints."
They soon reached the water again, much to Phil's relief, who could not imagine what they were trying to do.
The mounted pursuers were alarmingly close to the river by this time, and without a second's delay Platoff started up the channel, followed closely by the boys. Their sufferings were almost forgotten in the fear of recapture. They pressed forward over the slippery stones, waist-deep at times, but mostly barely knee-deep.
It was snowing so fast and thickly that only the merest outlines of the shores could be seen.
As Platoff had predicted, the tramp of the horses now seemed to come from various directions, as though the troopers were spreading over the plain.
A stray light was visible here and there, and occasionally the cannon boomed above the noise of the water, spreading further and further the news of the escape.
Before the first of the horsemen reached the river the fugitives were some distance up stream, and it was impossible to tell whether their tracks were discovered or not. At times the sounds of the pursuit seemed to die out in the distance, only to return closer than before. Beyond a doubt the Cossacks were on both sides of the stream, and the general location of the fugitives seemed to be suspected, for the horsemen could be heard galloping to and fro within a limited space.
The darkness of the night and the driving snowstorm placed the odds against the pursuers.
"They will never think of looking for us in the water," remarked Platoff, "we are safe here if we can only hold out."
That was a formidable "if," however, and the sufferings which the boys endured that night they will never forget. Toiling painfully from rock to rock they crept up stream through the icy current. At first the pain was agonising, but presently their limbs were benumbed and weak, and they found it difficult to move. sometimes they crept out on big rocks, and stamped up and down, or rubbed their legs with their aching hands until they were able to proceed again. Several times mounted soldiers passed close by along the shore, and the fugitives bent low among the stones until the danger was over. Not a murmur escaped Platoff's lips.
He went resolutely forward, seeking out the easiest channel and showing the boys the way. The force of his example helped them to endure their sufferings with comparative fortitude. For two hours they marched up the bed of the river, stopping for short intervals of rest. The immediate danger seemed to be past. Occasional sounds of pursuit still floated up the valley, but no horsemen had approached for a long time, and the lights of the prison had long since vanished.
It was a joyful moment when Platoff announced that the mines were close at hand, and his prediction was verified ten minutes later when the sharp ridge of the hill appeared before them. They scrambled out of the water and started in single file up the slope past the very spot where Lora Melikoff had been hidden during the eventful interview. The snow was knee-deep, but had ceased falling. On the top of the ridge Platoff halted and pointed to the distant lights of the settlement three miles away. "I have entered that prison for the last time," he said, impressively. "and done my last day's work in yonder mines. I will never be taken back alive."
He was silent for a moment, and then, in a more cheerful tone, he resumed. "But it is time to seek the cave. We must journey two miles along this ridge."
"Won't our tracks in the snow be discovered?" asked Maurice, as they started briskly off.
"It will soon snow again," answered Platoff, and fill up our tracks beyond all discovery. Between now and then it is not likely that any of our pursuers will visit the mines.
The truth of this statement was readily apparent, and the boys followed their leader with lighter hearts than they had known for many months, walking rapidly to restore the circulation to their benumbed limbs. The way was rough and stony, but Platoff pressed on without stopping, and finally paused by the side of a huge rock.
"Yonder are the pine-trees," he said, pointing ahead: "it must be the place, for I have noted the spot while marching to the mines, and they are the only trees on this ridge."
* * *
CHAPTER XVIII
The party pressed eagerly forward, and were soon standing in the shadow of the pines. The trees were indeed seven in number, all of mammoth size, and growing close together on the very verge of the cliff. Huge rocks were scattered about in all directions.
"Now for the cave!" said Platoff, as he began to go over the ground enclosed by the seven trees, inspecting every stone and peering into each cranny. The boys joined in the search, but in spite of their efforts the location of the cave remained undiscovered. With nervous haste they went over the ground again and again, afraid to confess their own fears.
Finally Maurice crept to the verge of the cliff, and looked down. The rock had a sheer descent for a distance of forty or fifty feet. At its base the hill sloped more gradually towards the valley. Four feet below the edge was a narrow platform on which grew a few scrubby pine-shoots.
Impelled by a singular impulse, Maurice cautiously lowered himself to this ledge, and stooping low, was confronted by a hole of impenetrable blackness.
"The cave!—the cave!" he cried, and Platoff and Phil were quickly at his side. Together they crawled into the opening which led downward at a sharp angle. The passage became wider and higher, and in a short time they reached a level space.
