Another mile was covered in the direction of Lodgeport, and then they reached one end of the rock elevation locally termed Moose Ridge. Here there was a good-sized cliff, with smaller cliffs branching off in various directions.

"There used to be some good hunting around here," said Chet, as, having climbed a small rise, they paused to catch their breath. "I once brought down a dandy buck over yonder."

He had scarcely spoken, when from a distance ahead there sounded out the crack of a rifle, followed, a few moments later, by a second report.

"Somebody is out!" cried Andy. "Wonder if he hit what he was aiming at."

"Maybe we'll see. Come ahead."

"I hope he isn't shooting this way."

"The reports came from the top of the big cliff."

The two boys moved on, keeping their eyes on the alert for the possible appearance of the hunter who had fired the two shots.

"Look! look!" cried Andy, suddenly, and pointing over the top of a small tree that stood between them and the big cliff ahead.

"What did you see?"

"Maybe I was mistaken, but I thought I saw a man tumble off the cliff!"

"A man? Perhaps it was a deer, or a moose."

"No, it looked like a man to me. Come on! If he fell to the bottom he may be killed!"

Andy set off as rapidly as the depth of the snow permitted, and Chet followed in his footsteps. Soon they rounded half a dozen trees and came in full view of the big cliff. Both uttered cries of horror, and with good reason.

Halfway down the edge of the cliff was a narrow ledge, and on this rested the body of a man,--a hunter, as was shown by his gun and game bag. He had tumbled from the top of the cliff, and the fall had rendered him unconscious. He lay half over the edge of the ledge, and was in imminent danger of falling still further and killing himself.

CHAPTER V

THE MAN ON THE LEDGE

"Is he dead?" questioned Chet, in a strained voice.

"I don't know--but I don't think so," answered Andy. "He has certainly had a nasty tumble."

"It looks to me as if he was going to tumble the rest of the way, unless he holds on."

"Let us see if we can't help him."

Both youths stood their guns against a tree, and made their way to the bottom of the cliff. As they did this, they saw the man's body shift slightly, and then came a low moan.

"He's alive!" cried Andy. "Hi, there!" he shouted. "Look out for yourself, or you'll get another tumble!"

To this, the man on the ledge did not answer. But the boys, listening intently, heard him moan again.

"I wonder if we can get at him?" mused Chet. "I don't see any way up the cliff from here, do you?"

"Oh, we must find a way to get to him!" cried Andy.

"Maybe we can catch him if he falls. If we--Look out!"

Andy leaped to one side, and the next instant the man's gun dropped down on the rocks and fell in the snow. The game bag followed. They now saw the man in his unconscious state turn partly over.

"He'll fall sure, unless we help him," said Chet. "But I don't know what to do."

"I have it," returned his chum. "Come on."

"Where to?"

"I'll show you."

Wondering what his friend had in mind to do, Chet followed Andy to where was located an ash sapling of fair size. It had been broken off about two feet above the ground--how, they could not tell.

"We can put that against the cliff, and use it as a ladder," said Andy.

"Provided we can get it over, Andy."

Both began to tug at the sapling, and at last got it free from the stump end. Then they fairly rushed with it to the bottom of the cliff.

"You hold the end, and I'll raise it up," said Chet, who was a little the stronger of the two. "We can put the top right against the man, and that will keep him from rolling down."

"If it will reach that far."

"I think it will."

Their experience as lumbermen stood them in good stead, and while Andy kept the bottom of the ash sapling from slipping in the snow, his chum raised it slowly but steadily, until it stood upright. Then Chet let it go over against the cliff with care, so that the man might not be further injured. The little tree reached several feet above the man's head.

"I'll go up and see what I can do for him," said Andy, throwing off his overcoat. "You steady the tree, Chet."

"All right. But be careful."

From early boyhood days Andy had been a good climber, and he went up the ash sapling with ease. The young tree was strong, so there was no danger of its breaking beneath his weight. Soon his feet touched the ledge, and he knelt down beside the hurt man.

"Why, I know him!" he called down to his chum. "He's the man I told you about--the one who asked me about the road to Moose Ridge."

"Pull him back, before he has a chance to slip," ordered Chet, and this Andy did. The movement made the man groan, and presently he opened his eyes for an instant.

"Oh, what a fall!" he murmured, and then relapsed into unconsciousness again.

"We'll have to get him down from here and try to do something for him,"

announced Andy. "He has a bad cut behind his left ear. I can't do anything for him up here--it's too slippery."