Part 40 (1/2)

Day broke drearily. The sky was dark and snow clouds rolled about the peaks. In the hollow behind the rock Stannard's party crowded round the spirit lamp. One could get no warmth, but in the snowy wilds the small blue flame and steaming kettle called. Moreover, each would soon receive a measured draught of strong hot tea.

All were numb and their faces were pinched. Stevens was frankly despondent, and when Dillon broke his hard bannock his stiff hands shook. Gillane was apathetic, but when Stannard measured out the tea he joked and Deering laughed. To laugh cost the big man something, but he knew he must. Stern effort was needed and human effort does not altogether depend on muscular strength. The packer's mood was daunting and it was obvious they would not get much help from him.

Jimmy was quiet. He must concentrate on holding out and could not force a laugh. He admitted he had not pluck like Stannard's. Stannard was indomitable, and now his gay carelessness was very fine. Although he was the oldest of the party and his face was haggard, he joked and his jokes were good. When the meal was over he got up and beat his hands.

”We must get down before dark and I think I know a line,” he said. ”If our luck is good, we'll camp in the trees by a splendid fire.”

To start was hard, but they got off and the snow was firm. The steep slope below the neck was smooth and for a time they made progress. Jimmy remarked the thickening snow cloud and knew Stannard thought it ominous, for he pushed on as fast as possible. So far, one could use some speed; the obstacles were in front.

The snow-field stopped at the top of a chain of precipices. The rocks were broken by the deep gap through which the glacier went, but Jimmy noted smaller breaks he thought were gullies filled by snow. He could not see the front of the precipices, but he pictured their falling for six or seven hundred feet. At the bottom, no doubt, were steep spurs and long ridges, across which one might reach the trees rolling up from the valley. The precipice was the main obstacle, but Jimmy did not think the rocks were perpendicular. Anyhow, the glacier was not, and if one could cross the ice-falls, it would carry them down. The trouble was, the cloud was getting thick.

After a time, they stopped at the head of the glacier, and Stannard, Jimmy and Deering climbed to a shelf that commanded the ice-fall. Mist rolled about, but for some distance one saw the broad white belt curve down between the rocks. Then Jimmy saw the fall and set his mouth. The snowy ice was piled in tremendous blocks and split by yawning cracks.

It looked as if the cracks went to the bottom, and one imagined others, hidden by fresh snow. Stannard turned to Deering, who shook his head.

”The boys can't make it; I doubt if you can. Nothing's doing!”

”Very well,” said Stannard. ”I marked a gully about two miles south. I don't know if you'll like it, but we must get down.”

Deering pulled out his watch. ”You have got to hustle. The boys can't stand for another night on the mountain.”

When they rejoined the others, it looked as if his remark was justified.

Gillane declared if they could not cross the ice-fall they must stop and freeze; Stevens owned he was exhausted and doubted if he could reach the gully. Jimmy would sooner have risked the fall, since he was persuaded the other line would not carry them down, but if Stannard thought the line might go, he was willing to try it.

They fronted the laborious climb to the snow-field, and soon after they got there mist blew across the slope. The party was now drawn out in a straggling row and by and by Deering stopped and looked about. He knew two or three were behind him, but he saw n.o.body.

”Where are the boys?” he shouted.

Peter said he had not seen Stevens and Dillon for some time, but they were no doubt pus.h.i.+ng along and the party's track was plain.

”I'm going back,” said Deering. ”Watch out for Jimmy.”

He plunged into the mist and presently found Stevens sitting in the snow. Dillon was with the lad and when Deering arrived urged him to get up. Stevens dully refused and said there was no use in the others bothering; he could go no farther. Deering pulled him up and shoved him along.

”You're going to the gully, anyhow,” he shouted with a jolly laugh.

”When we get you there, you can sit down and slide.”

Dillon helped and some time afterwards they came up with Peter.

”Where's Jimmy?” Deering asked in a sharp voice.

”Stannard reckoned he was near the spot he'd marked. He took a rope, and Gillane and Jimmy went along. They allowed I must stop to watch out for you.”

”You let Jimmy go!”

”Sure I did,” said Peter, with sullen quietness. ”I reckon you needn't bother about Jimmy. Something's bitten you. Stannard's all right. If he can't help us, we have got to freeze.”

Deering said nothing. Stannard's charm was strong, and cold and fatigue had dulled Peter's brain. There was no use in arguing and he followed the others' track. He could not see much, for the mist was thick. The ground got steeper and rocks pierced the snow. It looked as if he were near the top of the precipice, but so long as the marks in front were plain he need not hesitate. After a few minutes he saw Gillane. The packer leaned against a ma.s.sy block, round which he had thrown the rope; the end was over the top of the rocks.

”h.e.l.lo!” said Deering. ”What's your job?”