"Where are you?" screamed Provy.
"Down the chimbley."
There was a black square of adobe sticking out of the snow near them.They ran to it.There was a hole.They peered down, but could see nothing at first but a faint glimmer.
"Come down, fellows! It ain't far!" said Tribbs's voice.
"Wot yer got there?" asked Julian cautiously.
"Suthin' to eat."
That was enough.In another instant Julian and Provy went down the chimney.What was a matter of fifteen feet after a thousand?
Tribbs had already lit a candle by which they could see that they were in the cabin of some tunnel-man at work on the ridge.He had probably been in the tunnel when the avalanche fell, and escaped, though his cabin was buried.The three discoverers helped themselves to his larder.They laughed and ate as at a picnic, played cards, pretended it was a robber's cave, and finally, wrapping themselves in the miner's blankets, slept soundly, knowing where they were, and confident also that they could find the trail early the next morning.They did so, and without going to their homes came directly to school--having been absent about fifty hours.They were in high spirits, except for the thought of approaching punishment, never dreaming to evade it by anything miraculous in their adventures.
Such was briefly their story.Its truth was corroborated by the discovery of the bear's carcass, by the testimony of the tunnel-man, who found his larder mysteriously ransacked in his buried cabin, and, above all, by the long white tongue that for many months hung from the ledge into the valley.Nobody thought the lanky Julian a hero,--least of all himself.Nobody suspected that Jackson Tribbs's treatment of a "slide" had been gathered from experiments in his father's "runs"--and he was glad they did not.
The master's pardon obtained, the three truants cared little for the opinion of Hemlock Hill.They knew THEMSELVES, that was enough.
End