The Mystery at Mead's Mountain by Julie Campbell Page A

everyone head for the woods.” As he was talking, Jim took a length of rope out of his knapsack and tied it around his waist. He instructed each of them to do the same. “If we get caught in another avalanche, pretend to swim in the snow. That will help you stay on the surface, but if you don’t, the rope will float up and you’ll be easier to find. It was stupid not to do this before we crossed this field. Heavy snowfall the other night, sun the last couple of days, the overhanging snow, and no trees—why didn’t we recognize this as a potential slide area?” In disgust, he pulled tight on the knot in his rope. “And I like to think of myself as a woodsman.”
    “No, it’s all my fault,” said Brian. “I suggested the race.”
    “Don’t be silly!” Honey cried. “It’s nobody’s fault. Let’s concentrate on saving Mart instead of blaming ourselves.”
    Jim turned to Trixie. “Where did you last see him?”
    “About ten yards from here. He came so close to outskiing the avalanche. He was right on the edge of it.” Trixie led the others to the place where she thought she had seen Mart disappear.
    Not too far from there, Di noticed something dark sticking out of the snow. She grabbed Brian’s arm and pointed excitedly. “Look, look, what’s that?”
    Brian skied over and picked up the object. He turned it over in his hand and said slowly, “It’s a piece of Mart’s ski.”
    Trixie moaned.
    “Come on, let’s put our skis in the woods first,” Jim urged. Everyone obeyed, and Jim continued, “Let’s start at the bottom of the slide area. Each person stand about two feet from the next person. Turn one ski pole upside down and stick it into the snow every foot as we walk up the hill. If you feel any resistance—any at all—yell. But not too loudly. Even the vibrations of our voices could start another avalanche.”
    As they started up the hill, Trixie tried to banish from her mind the picture of Mart lying buried under all the snow, but it was an impossible task. “How long do we have, Jim?” she asked tensely.
    “If we can’t find him in an hour, we’ll have to send for help.” That was all Jim would say.
    What he means is, if we don't find him in an hour, it may be too late, Trixie cried silently.
    No one said anything for a long time. They were too intent on poking their poles into the snow as far as they could. Finally, Trixie’s prayers seemed to be answered: Her ski pole went down a few feet and would go no farther.
    “Jim! Brian! Everyone! My pole hit something!”
    They all raced over to her and started digging in the snow with their hands. When they uncovered a large flat-topped boulder, Trixie stared at it for a moment, refusing to believe that Mart was still missing. Then, without a word, she got up and started poking her pole into the snow again.
    Minutes later, Brian gave a jubilant cry. Again Trixie joined in the digging, but this time she didn’t get excited. Brian had probably found another boulder... or Mart smashed against a boulder. Then she scraped away just enough of the powdery white to reveal some of the green fuzz of Mart’s sweater, and her troubled tears became tears of joy. He was alive!
    Working quickly and carefully, they dug him out of his snowy prison and got him back into the woods where they had left their skis. He appeared to be all right, but for what seemed like ages he just sat against a tree, taking deep breaths and blinking the snow out of his eyes. While he recovered, Brian checked for broken bones and took his pulse, and Jim brewed him a cup of tea over the Sterno fuel from his survival kit.
    After a few sips of tea, Mart was finally able to speak. “I can’t believe I’m here! When I realized I wasn’t going to make it, I kept my arms around my face so I’d have some breathing room. After I was good and buried, I tried to dig my way out, but by then I wasn’t sure which way was up. You can’t imagine what it’s like to be buried alive. I