Chapter IX: The Adventure at Bruce’s Cavern

On their arrival at the manse, they found that the minister himself had been called away to pray with a poor woman who was supposed to be dying.

But Maggie May was eminently suited to perform the duties of hostess, and a right hearty welcome did she give them.

With her own hands did she prepare them a delicious hot draught of mulled heather-ale, with soft biscuit broken up in it, for it was a long time ere the dinner-hour.

Lord Raglan was put in the best stall in the stable, and the sleigh was drawn into the shed.

Given three people all in their teens, a good piano, plenty of books and music, and I think there is no danger of the time feeling irksome. It did not in this case, at all events; and when Mackenzie entered the room three hours after, he found them all as merry as crickets, and merrier.

He was glad to see the boys, and said he really envied them their pleasant ride. “For,” he added, “of all kinds of vehicular motion, that of the sledge is undoubtedly the most pleasant.”

Sandie was a true gentleman at heart, and he at once proposed to place his sleigh and Lord Raglan at the disposal of Mackenzie and his little daughter for next day, if he chose to enjoy a ride. He himself would be going back to Aberdeen, he said, in three days’ time, but his father would let him have the sleigh at any time, all the same.

“Besides,” said Sandie, “it will hold you and me, sir, and little Maggie May easily; so, if you like, I will come over if it is fine to-morrow and give you an outing.”

The minister thanked him very much and readily accepted. But, woe is me! there is many a slip in this world ’twixt the cup and the lip.

At dinner that day all three male people seemed to be in more than their usual spirits, while Maggie May sat saying little, but an amused and delighted listener nevertheless.

At nine o’clock it was time to start, but, first and foremost, all went out to have a look at the weather.

It was moonlight--bright, clear, full moonlight--but ever and anon grey and white ominous-looking snow-clouds were driving across the moon’s disc, and rendering it momentarily dark. There was heard also now and then a low moaning sound coming upwards from the pine woods that fringed the icy Don. It appeared as if a storm were awakening in the forest, and might soon burst bounds and go howling over all the land.

“I must confess,” said Mackenzie, shaking his head, “that I don’t quite like the look of things. The wind--what little there is--is dead from the north too. Don’t you think you had better stay all night?”

But for once in a way Sandie was obstinate, and so the sleigh was had out, and Lord Raglan with his jingling bells put proudly in.

Soon after this, bidding their friends an affectionate “good night,” the boys took their seats, and, with a farewell wave of their caps, off they started as silently as if they had been ghosts--only ghosts don’t have such sweetly musical bells.

* * * * *

They had accomplished about three miles of the journey at no great pace, and were now in a very wild and dreary country indeed, hill and dell and gloomy glen.

They were down in a hollow, and just crossing a Gothic bridge that spanned a stream of dark brown water, which, slowly winding between its banks of snow, looked at present as black as ink. Hardly had they left the bridge, when, from the hills above and from the pine woods, swept a blizzard so terrible that it almost cut their breath away, and caused even the horse himself to stagger and feel faint.

It grew very dark too all at once, and, strange sight, they could see lightning flashes among the snow, and hear peals of thunder high over the roaring of the blizzard wind.

The whole air was not only filled with falling snow, but with ice-dust, as it is called,--that is, the snow was caught up from the ground and pulverised, till it became a powder so fine, but so cold, that to breathe it caused a feeling of asphyxia, somewhat akin to that one feels on going first under a shower-bath.

It must be confessed Sandie M‘Crae was taken aback, and hardly knew what to do for the best. Perhaps the best would have been to return to the manse. But his pride forbade, and he determined to push on.

It must be confessed, also, that Lord Raglan did all he could, and proved himself a right good pony indeed. Yet it was soon evident to Sandie that he must depend upon his sagacity entirely to keep to the right path, for he could not tell in which direction he was driving.

Facing fearful odds, they got on about another mile, and the blizzard now seemed to increase rather than abate, while great snow-wreaths were thrown across the road that were all but impassable.

Sandie had shut his eyes for a time, leaving everything to Lord Raglan. Every eyelash was an icicle, and the ice and snow were incrusted on the cheeks of both boys.

And now I have to record an instance of sagacity on the part of this wise old pony, that, if not unparalleled, is at least very strange, and proves that there are more things in heaven and earth than we have dreamt of in our philosophy. In fact, in our human pride, we are all too apt to despise the lower animals, and to forget that they reason and think on the same lines as we do, though not to the same degree. But every now and then occasions or emergencies arise that seem to stimulate their reasoning faculties, and raise them for the time being to a level with those of the biped man.

When Sandie opened his sleepy, half-frozen eyes--indeed he was not sure that he had not been asleep--he found that there was a momentary lull in the blizzard, and that the moon once more shone clearly down on the great snow waste, though away to windward huge clouds, like rocks and towers, were slowly banking up, and would soon again cover all the sky, when once more the storm would rage with additional fury.

But he also noticed, to his alarm and surprise, that Lord Raglan had left the road, bringing the wind more on their backs, and that he was rapidly approaching a high, black, rocky cliff at the head of a field, and close to a dark and brawling burn.

Ten minutes afterwards he drew up right at the foot of these rocks, and close to the opening of a cave.

Lord Raglan and Sandie too had often been here before in the sweet summer-time, when the banks of the stream were covered with wild-flowers, and glad fish leapt up in scores in every sunlit pool.

Sandie knew the place at once.

He nudged Willie, who was half asleep.

“Willie, Willie,” he cried, “we are saved. The horse has saved us from a terrible death.”

“Where are we?” muttered Willie.

“At Bruce’s cavern. I know it well. We must all get in before the storm comes on again. Arise, Willie, pull yourself together; there is no time to lose.”

Willie did arise, and leapt as nimbly down as his half-frozen legs would permit him.

Then Lord Raglan was unharnessed and led into the cave. Next the sleigh was dragged in, and hardly was this secured ere the blizzard came on again with redoubled fury. The mouth of the cave was so situated that the snow could not drift very far in, but in less than an hour it was entirely and completely snowed over, so that to all intents and purposes the boys were buried alive.

The snow at the cave mouth, however, only made it warmer within. So one of the lamps were lit, and Sandie proceeded to make a bed from the rugs and skins, but not before he had thrown one of the heaviest of these over Lord Raglan’s loins, kissed his soft snout, and wished him good-night.

A few minutes after both boys, huddled close together for warmth, had said their prayers, and were sound asleep.

Under circumstances such as these human beings slumber well. When Sandie awoke, for a time he could remember nothing. But gradually things came back to his memory. It was pitch dark, however; the lamp had burned out, so he lit the other, and finding by his old silver watch that it was past nine o’clock, he knew it must be broad daylight out of doors, so he awoke Willie.

An attempt was now made to force their way through the snow, but having nothing to dig with, this was soon abandoned, the terrible truth forcing itself upon them that they were as much lost as miners buried in a mine, and cut away from their fellows. They breakfasted on a little snow, which, at all events, refreshed them somewhat. They must live in hope of being dug out.

* * * * *

When the fearful blizzard broke over Kilbuie, great fears were entertained for the safety of the boys, but it was hoped they had stayed at Belhaven manse all night. The storm lasted all night, but abated at daybreak, and then Jamie Duncan and Mr. M‘Crae himself started to ride each on a strong cart-horse to the manse. They found the road almost impassable, for some of the wreaths were eight feet high.

But they reached the manse at last, only to suffer grief and disappointment.

The country near to the minister’s house was more densely populated, and it was not difficult to get up a small but strong search party, and once more they returned along the road, Mackenzie himself accompanying them, their object now being to find a trail or cue.

Poor Tyro, Sandie’s dog, seemed to know exactly what the matter was, and exerted himself as much as any one.

All along the route the snow-banks at each side were searched, and probed with long poles, and every hollow into which the sleigh might have fallen was also examined.

They had now advanced about three miles on the road, but so particular and careful had the search been, that it was already two by the clock. And now they all assembled for luncheon, and soon after the search was resumed.

Another mile was slowly got over, but without success. Where could they have gone to? It seemed as if the earth had opened and swallowed them. Hope was now beginning to fade and die in the hearts of the searchers. If the boys were under a bank of snow somewhere, they could hardly now be alive. Besides, the day was far spent. It would soon be dark, then all work must be abandoned. But see! what aileth Tyro? He has left the main road, and is galloping in a straight line towards the beetling rocks, yapping or barking every now and then, with his nose on the ground as if chasing a rabbit.

Hope springs fresh in every heart!

The men shoulder their poles and spades and follow the dog.

Straight as the bee flies he leads them to the snowed-up entrance to Bruce’s cavern, and here Tyro begins to tear and scratch at the snow in the most frantic way.

“To work, men,” cries M‘Crae. “Dead or alive, the boys are inside the cave.”

And the men did work too, as hard as ever men worked in life.

The snow, however, was powdery, and difficult to dig, and it must have been fifteen feet deep if a single inch.

Willie and Sandie had both fallen into an uneasy kind of slumber, worn out with cold and hunger, when they were aroused by hearing Raglan neigh. Indeed it seemed more of a happy laugh than a neigh.

“Hee--haw--hm-m-m--haw--hm-m-m!” Over and over again too.

For his quick ear could catch sounds outside long before those of the boys.

Presently, however, a little ray of light streamed into their utter darkness through the awful bank of snow, and they could hear voices without.

Before the opening was a foot wide Tyro came dashing through, and the wild excitement and delight of the poor animal it would indeed be difficult to describe.

The boys shouted now as well as their voices would permit them. Raglan neighed once more.

Wider and wider grew the opening, and in ten minutes more Sandie was pressed in his father’s arms.

The tears were streaming down the good farmer’s face, and down the minister’s as well.

“Thank God!” was all he could say, and fervently indeed did every one in that group of uncouth-looking men add the little word, “Amen!”

END OF BOOK FIRST.