Dave Porter At Bear Camp Part 17

"Going to put on the chains?" called out Mr. Ba.s.swood, to make himself heard above the noise of the elements.

"I think we had better," returned Dave's uncle. "I imagine we've quite a hill to descend a little farther on."

There were raincoats in each touring-car, and these were now donned by Dave and his uncle, and by Ben and his father. Then the chains for the back wheels for both automobiles were brought forth.

Even under the thick foliage of the trees the rain was coming down, although of course not nearly as hard as on the roadway beyond. The chains were straightened out on the gra.s.s, and each automobile was backed up a little so that the articles might be fastened on. The task took but a few minutes, and then those who had accomplished it got back into the machines.

"I'll lead the way," called out Mr. Porter. "You had better not follow me too closely."

"Very well, I'll watch out," answered Mr. Ba.s.swood.

"Uncle Dunston, don't you want to let me drive?" queried Dave. "I've had a little more experience at it than you have had."

"I can do it, Dave," was the reply. "But, at the same time, if you think it would be safer, take the wheel. I must own up that I'd rather be on a horse or behind one than steering a car like this in such a storm."

Dave squeezed himself into the driver's seat, and a moment later they were off again over the plateau of the hill, and then down the other side.

The wind was blowing as furiously as ever, and now from a distance came the low rumble of thunder.

"O dear! What is that?" cried Laura.

"I guess it was thunder, but I don't think it will amount to anything,"

returned Roger.

The bottom of the hill gained, they traversed a narrow valley for a distance of seven or eight miles. Then came another climb over a winding highway, which at certain points was filled with loose stones and dirt.

"Be careful, Dave. We don't want to do any skidding," cautioned the youth's uncle.

"I'm watching out all I can," was the grim reply. Dave was bending over the steering-wheel, trying his best to see through the winds.h.i.+eld. "I guess I'll have to open it a little," he went on, nodding in the direction of the gla.s.s.

"I'll do it for you," answered Dunston Porter, and threw out the upper side of the s.h.i.+eld.

By this means Dave was able to get a clear vision of the roadway directly in front of the machine. But the opening of the winds.h.i.+eld let in considerable of the driving rain.

"Oh, Dave, you'll get wet from the knees down!" cried Jessie, solicitously.

"Can't help it," he replied. "I can't see with the winds.h.i.+eld closed."

The rumblings of thunder had increased, and now from over a distant hill came various streaks of lightning. The sky was much darker, and in order to see better, Dave turned on the electric lights. Looking back, those in the tonneau of the forward car saw that the Ba.s.swood machine was also lighted. By the time the top of the next hill was gained, a distance of fully a mile, the thunderstorm was on them in all its fury.

The wind tore through the woods, sending leaves and small branches flying in all directions. From the north and the west came vivid flashes of lightning, followed by sharp claps of thunder, which rolled and rumbled across the hills and mountains.

"O dear, if we only had some place to stop!" cried Jessie, timorously.

"There isn't any sort of a building in sight," replied Dunston Porter, who had been looking on all sides for some time. "If there was I'd have Dave head for it pretty quick."

"According to the map we ought to be within a few miles of Simpson's Corners," said Roger. "How about it, Dave?"

"Just what I was thinking," answered our hero. "I was wondering if it wasn't on the other side of the next rise."

They were running along another small valley, at the end of which was a sharp turn to the left and a rise of several hundred feet. Here the downfall of rain had flooded the road for a considerable distance.

Coming to this place Dave had to slow down, but he still kept on some power, not wis.h.i.+ng to get stuck.

"Can you make it, Dave?" asked his uncle, anxiously, as the chains of the automobile ground deeply into the mud and loose stones.

"We've got to make it, Uncle Dunston!" cried the boy, grimly.

The car proceeded more and more slowly even with the power turned on.

Dave had been running in second gear, but now he came down to low. Mud and stones flew in all directions, while the water was splashed out on both sides as if coming from geysers. Then, with one last effort, the automobile left the level roadway and started up the hill beyond.

The Wadsworth car was almost at the top of the rise when a turn in the road enabled its occupants to see the second car.

"Look!" burst out Roger. "I do believe they're stuck!"

"Stuck! Do you mean in that wet place?" asked Dave, quickly.

"That's it," put in Phil. "They are stuck just as sure as you're born!"

he added, a second later.

The forward car had now reached a spot on the side of the hill which was comparatively level, so that Dave had no trouble in coming to a halt. It was still raining as furiously as ever, and the thunder and lightning were just as incessant. Looking down on the wet portion of the road below them, they saw that the Ba.s.swood car was standing still, with water and mud half way up to the hubs.

"He has shut off the power! That's no way to do!" cried Dave. "He ought to keep his engine going, and either try to go forward or backward. If he stands still he will sink deeper than ever."

"He's trying to back now, Dave," returned Phil, and he was right.

Soon they saw the wheels of the Ba.s.swood car revolving rapidly, and the turnout itself moved slowly to the rear. Then Ben must have reversed the power, for the car came forward, but this time headed for the left side of the road.

"I don't think he'll gain much by that move," observed Dave. "I tried it, and found it rather soft over there."

"Look, he is backing again!" cried Laura. "O dear! Whatever will he do if he gets stuck fast?"

"Let us hope that nothing like that happens," answered her uncle, gravely.

But that was just what did happen, and although both Ben and his father did their best to free the car from the mud, it was without avail. They managed to get to within fifteen feet of the end of the wet place, and there they stayed, unable to budge either forward or backward.

"Listen! he is sounding his horn!" cried Roger, during a brief lull in the storm.

"I guess he wants us to come back and help pull him out," answered Dave, and sounded a reply to show that he had heard the call of distress.

"What are you going to do, Dave--try to turn around here or back down?"

asked Roger.

"Oh, it's too narrow to turn here!" cried Laura, in alarm.

"You'll have us all over in the ditch if you don't look out!" came from one of the others in the car.

"I see a little wider spot further ahead," answered Dave, and turned on the power once more.

Soon he had reached the place in question, and there, by skillful maneuvering, he managed to turn the touring-car the other way. Then he came down the hill slowly until within a few feet of the bad spot in the highway.