For nearly two weeks the weather remained pretty much the same, and the fugitives made satisfactory progress. They kept far back from the river, and although they frequently saw wolves at a distance and heard them howling among the hills, the brutes made no attempt to molest them. No signs of pursuit were encountered, and with each night's journey they felt more hopeful of ultimate escape.
It was now early in the month of March—a whole year since the boys had first crossed the Russian frontier. Their main sufferings had been from cold, but they were cheered by the hope of warmer weather. In a month or more, Platoff said, spring would come, and their discomforts would then be over. By great economy the supply of provisions had been made to last, but now in the beginning of the third week of their flight, barely enough food was left to last them two days, and the future outlook was dark.
The day had been spent in hiding at the foot of a rocky hill. Water was close by—a mountain spring that was too cold and rapid to freeze . At sunset Platoff shared with the boys a scant supper of bread and dried meat.
"To-morrow," he said, "we must obtain food in some way. If we do not succeed in shooting any deer, extreme measures will be necessary. I shall endeavour to find a village and buy provisions."
"Are there people living near here?" asked Maurice.
"Oh, yes," replied Platoff, "Siberian towns are scattered all along the posting-route, at distant intervals, of course. We have seen nothing of them because, we have kept far back in the forest. It may not be necessary, though, to take any such risks. Who knows what a day may bring with it?"
Platoff spoke thus hopefully to encourage the boys. In his own heart the prospect was gloomy enough, and therefore what happened in the course of the next few hours was all the greater a surprise.
They travelled rapidly that night, covering mile after mile of forest land, and hearing constantly the howling of wolves in different directions The accounts of the ferocity of the Siberian wolves, however, are greatly exaggerated. It is seldom that they attack men, and the government sleighs have never been molested.
"Hereafter," said Platoff, "I think we will sleep at night, and travel in the day. The risk will be little greater, and we can make much better speeds
"That will be splendid," said Maurice; "it always makes me weary to hear the wolves howling."
"They are more than usually noisy to-night," replied Platoff, "and they will become more dangerous as we near the Pacific. In daylight they lose their courage and are cowards."
They travelled on in silence for a time. Suddenly Platoff halted and raised his hand. Far off in the forest a great tumult was heard. It swelled in volume each moment, until the boys could distinguish the howling of wolves, and the scurrying of feet over the snow. At intervals a branch cracked sharply above the din.
"They are coming this way," said Phil—"what shall we do? where shall we go?"
"Hush! don't be alarmed," exclaimed Platoff, "stay just where you are."
Motioning the boys back, he crept forward to the brink of the ravine which they had been about to cross. Down this hollow the wolves were evidently coming, and their furious outcries had a significance for Platoff which the inexperience boys failed to understand. He drew out his revolver and examined it carefully. Then turning to Maurice, he called out, guardedly, "Get your weapon really—be on the safe side, you know."
The wolves were close at hand, and as Platoff crept a yard or two further down the ravine, a deer broke into view through the spruce thicket, and dashed swiftly past him. The poor animal was nearly exhausted, and ran with difficulty. Taking a quick aim at the shadowy figure Platoff pulled trigger. As the report echoed throngh the ravine, the deer was seen to fall, but it rose again quickly and speed [sic] on in flight. That brief delay was fatal. With wild howls, half a dozen wolves burst from the forest, and, overhauling the fugitive in half a dozen leaps, bore it still struggling to the ground not twenty yards from where Platoff stood.
The boys, hearing the outcry and not knowing what was taking place, were inclined to run, but Platoff turned round, and shouted:
"Follow me now, we can easily drive off this handful of wolves."
Then he vanished down the ravine, pistol in hand. Maurice cocked his revolver, and followed, shouting to Phil, who was armed only with knife, to keep in the rear. He reached the bottom of the gully almost at Platoff's side, and his hasty glimpse of the struggle made plain the Russian's eagerness for the conflict.
The first glimmer of dawn shed a dim light on the scene, and the grey forms of the wolves outlined against the snowy whiteness of the ground afforded a fine opportunity for aim.
The struggles of the wounded deer were over, and his assailants were swarming over its body, tearing the flesh with such ferocious haste that the approach of Platoff and Maurice was unheeded.
"We must have that meat," whispered Platoff. "it will keep us for weeks," and raising his revolver he aimed at the nearest wolf, a huge gaunt brute, which toppled over simultaneously with the report. At the same instant Maurice fired, but unfortunately made a miss, and the remaining wolves, angered at this interruption to their feast, sprang in a body at the daring intruders.
Crack! crack! went Platoff's revo[l]ver, and down went the foremost animal, staining the snow a dark crimson. His second shot crippled another, which retreated with a mournful howl.
Maurice, who remained admirably cool under this trying ordeal, killed a third by careful shooting, and the remaining uninjured brutes, two in number, very wisely retreated up the slope. The wounded wolf had crawled away under cover.
"Hurrah! we've done it!" cried Maurice, with pardonable glee and as he spoke a loud outcry was heard from Phil, who had remained on top of the slope. Platoff was off like a streak with Maurice at his heels, and gaining the ridge they were horrified to see the lad struggling with one of the fugitive wolves. The crust had broken, and both were floundering about in the snow beneath.
Platoff reached the spot in a couple of leaps, and actually seizing the brute by the throat, lifted him up and flung him a yard or two away. He reached for his revolver, but it was missing and snatching the knife from Phil, who was now rising unsteadily to his feet, he turned just in time to meet the rabid animal's attack. The wolf was not a large one, but what he lacked in size he made up in ferocity and for a moment Platoff's position was one of extreme peril. The brute landed on his breast, and for a second or two he tottered. Then recovering himself, he clutched the woolly throat in one hand, and with the other struck repeatedly with the knife. The muscular blows went home, the brute's efforts relaxed, and down he went on the blood-stained snow, a limp and lifeless heap. Platoff coolly wiped the blood from his hands, and examined the scratches on his arms and breast.
"I'm not hurt," he said, in answer to the boys' eager inquiries, the marks are only skin-deep. I dropped my revolver somewhere, or I should have settled him without all this fuss."
"You saved my life," exclaimed Phil, "in a moment more his teeth would have been in my throat. The brute sprang on me from that thicket there, and when we fell the crust broke. That is what kept me from being bitten. I don't believe I'm hurt at all, except for my clothes," and he pointed to the front of his coat all ripped and hanging in tatters.
Platoff disdained all praise, and strode off to look for his lost revolver. It was found halfway down the slope, where he had dropped it while running to Phil's assistance.
It was now nearly daylight, and Platoff started at once to cut up the deer. It was a long and difficult task with but one knife, and a dull one at that, but an hour after sunrise the choice parts of the meat had been removed, and packed for carriage.
"Now," said Platoff, "we must leave here. It is just possible that our shots reached somebody's ear, and it will be a wise proceeding to put some miles between us and this spot
* * *
CHAPTER XX
As a more effective safeguard Platoff led the boys deeper into the forest, and they plodded on for some miles before stopping even to eat. Refreshed by a hearty meal, they then travelled until nearly evening, and camped in a sheltered hollow.
Of course a fire was necessary, not only for warmth, but to keep off prowling wolves. The night was divided into watches, each taking his turn at guard duty and feeding the fire.
For half a week more they journeyed on without incident, and then a spell of wet weather set in, which continued several days and made travelling impossible. But it soon grew cold again, and a crust formed on what little snow remained.
This good weather lasted for two weeks, and the fugitives took advantage of it to travel rapidly and steadily. They subsisted mainly on the venison, but the bill of fare was varied occasionally by a rabbit or a pheasant which Platoff succeeded in knocking over. At times during their march the Anner was in sight and the telegraph poles that follow the post-road could be dimly made out. But for the most part they kept well back in the hills, and had the rare good fortune to avoid meeting anyone, though signs of human beings were frequently encountered.
The boys endured their sufferings and hardships with a stoicism that excited Platoff's admiration, and their health remained good.
As the first of April drew near they began to hope for milder weather, but as yet no change was visible. It remained cold, with occasional snow-storms of brief duration.
One evening, after a weary march of twenty miles or more, they discovered a deserted cabin on the banks of a mountain stream. The wall was fitted with bunks, and in the closet was found a hard loaf of bread—a welcome discovery, for food had been very scarce during the past week. Soaked in water this made a palatable meal, and the last crumb was devoured with a relish.
"We can keep warm without a fire to-night," said Platoff. "I am afraid we are near habitations."
"How far have we come?" asked Maurice; "and how far do you suppose it is to Vladivostok?"
"That is a diflicult question to answer," replied Platoff, "we have been travelling in such a zigzag course that the journey has been necessarily lengthened. I have tried to keep a mental record, though. and I can give you a fair idea of what we have done. We have been on the road nearly seven weeks, and I think we have averaged nearly a hundred miles a week. Taking off one hundred, which is a good allowance for our deviations. we have marched six hundred miles down the Anner, and are only four hundred miles from the ocean. Bear in mind, though, that our most dangerous journey is ahead, and that we have to make still greater circuits."
"Then we are at least half-way?" said Maurice.
"Yes, half our journey is over," replied Platoff. "Heaven grant us equal prosperity during the remainder."
The boys were agreeably surprised to hear this. The whole distance covered seemed to them very large. They did not think of the long marches patiently endured through nearly every day of these seven weeks.
"In the morning," resumed Platoff, "we will go down this stream towards the river. Our rubles must now be turned to some account. Food we must have. If we continue eating this half-raw flesh we shall be ill."
That was a long-to-be-remembered night. The cabin was snugly sheltered by the hills, and all enjoyed a restful, unbroken sleep until morning, dispensing entirely with guard duty. They were off at day-break, after a hasty breakfast, and travelled rapidly down the stream through a thickly-wooded and rock-strewn ravine. It was at least four miles to the river, but a little more than an hour's march brought them in sight of its frozen surface. The hollow was thickly wooded with pine and spruce, and under its welcome cover the fugitives felt little fear.
"Ah, there is the post-road," said Platoff, and he pointed through a break in the trees to a couple of tall telegraph poles. They crept to its very edge, and the boys looked with curiosity at the smooth high-way scored with recent sled-tracks. A solid bridge of logs was built across the stream, and not twenty yards off, down a slight incline was the Anner. Not a habitation was in sight, ouly a barren stretch of ice and snow and wooded hills. Below, the road faded into the dim distance, but up stream a sharp curve cut off the view.
Platoff stood as though in deep thought, scanning the wintry landscape, and the boys hesitated to disturb his reverie. Suddenly from round the curve above was heard a sharp jingling of bells, faint at first, but rapidly growing louder. Platoff excitedly pushed the boys back into a dense spruce thicket that bordered the road.
"Keep low, and don't make a sound," he whispered.
From their retreat it was possible to see the curve in the road on this all fixed their eyes expectantly. The jingle of the bells came nearer and nearer, ringing out as though the horses were running at full speed, and now above their clatter was heard a voice raised to its highest pitch.
"Something is wrong," whispered Platoff, and as the words left his lips a huge sled burst round the curve, at full speed. It was a clumsy vehicle, with a leather hood over the rear end, drawn by a troika team of three horses harnessed abreast. The one inmate, a bearded man, muffled to his nose in furs, was tugging fiercely at the lines with an expression of terror on his face.
These details the boys noticed at one sweeping glance.
"The horses are running away," exclaimed Platoff, and that instant the frightened brutes, unable to round the bend at their terrific speeds plunged down the slope, dragging the heavy sledge behind them. The mouth of the stream, with its fringe of treacherous ice, was at hand, but they dashed madly forward, and, with a mighty crash, horses, sledge, and driver went through into the dark waters. Platoff turned to his companions.
"Stay here," he said. "I must save that man," and bounding across the road he ran down the slope to the river. The true nobility of this deed did not occur at once to the boys. At any moment other sleighs or troops of soldiers might pass along the road, and as for the man struggling in the water, he was very likely a Russian official, who would put pursuers on their track, and drag them back to a living death at the mines. They realised the danger, of course, and felt momentary angry at Platoff for imperilling at one move their dearly-purchased freedom. Then more generous impulses came to the front, and breaking out of their hiding-place, they ran down the bank, catching up with Platoff at the very water's edge.
