Part 42 (1/2)

”The light's going and the trees are a long way off,” he said. ”Mush along, boys. You have got to get there!”

In places the snow was loose and to get forward was hard. Jimmy pushed Stevens for some distance and they were forced to stop for a young police trooper. On some pitches the snow was hard and slippery, and rocks with icy tops broke the surface. Dark crept up from the valley and the trees were behind the ground in front. Yet from the daunting gully they had looked down across the vast white slope and the picture that melted like the mist led them on. Ahead were rest and food and warmth.

At length, two or three hours after dark, Dillon stumbled and rolled in the snow.

”Watch out for the juniper I ran up against,” he shouted. ”Keep going!

This trail's for the woods!”

Half an hour afterwards Jimmy threw off his pack and leaned against a spruce. The ground was steep and stony, but rows of small trunks cut the glimmering snow. All round was fuel and one could build a shelter and eat hot food. He thrilled and the blood came to his frozen skin. They had run daunting risks and borne all flesh and blood could bear, but the strain was done with. They had made it!

x.x.xII

BY THE CAMP-FIRE

In the timber the cold was not very keen and the tired men braced themselves for the effort to pitch camp. Peter and the sergeant took control and soon a big fire burned behind a wall of branches. Against the wall twigs and thin branches were packed for beds. Where the bushman can find fuel and material for building he does not bother about the frost, and in winter the Royal North-West patrols sleep by their camp-fires far out on the snowy wilds.

A trooper fried pork and doughy bannocks, Deering brewed a kettle of strong tea, and when all had eaten like famished animals the men, for the most part, went to sleep. For a time, however, Deering, the sergeant, and Jimmy sat by the fire and smoked.

On the mountains, they were absorbed by the stern physical effort, and concentrated mechanically on getting down. Animal instinct urged them forward, but now the risk of freezing was gone, they began to think like men. The sergeant and Jimmy were puzzled and imagined they might get some light from Deering. Jimmy's brows were knit and when he looked about he frowned. Although he was warm and the hot tea had revived him, he felt his brain was dull.

Sparks leaped up from the fire; smoke tossed about the camp. One heard the wind in the pine-tops and the trunks reflected gleams of flickering light. The mist had blown away, and Jimmy saw far off a dim white ridge cut the sky. Then he turned his head and s.h.i.+vered, for he knew Stannard's broken body was somewhere in the rocks and perhaps n.o.body would find the spot. Stannard was his friend, a cultivated gentleman and a famous mountaineer; but he had slipped and gone down the precipice like a raw tourist. Moreover, although it looked as if he had killed the game warden, he had said nothing. In fact, it looked as if he were willing for Jimmy to pay. Yet Jimmy was not persuaded; for Stannard to use treachery like that was unthinkable.

”You're satisfied I'm not accountable for the shooting accident?” he said to the sergeant.

”I guess my chiefs are satisfied. Our orders were to leave you alone.”

For a few moments Jimmy was quiet. He had carried a heavy load and now the load was gone. He could urge Margaret to marry him and get on with his ranching. Perhaps, if she agreed, he might go back to Lancas.h.i.+re, but he must not yet dwell on this.

”When did your officers find out I had nothing to do with it?” he resumed.

”Not long since; the day before warden Douglas died. All the time he was at the hospital we waited for his statement, but got nothing. Although I've seen men shot, Douglas puzzled me and I reckon he puzzled the doctors. Sometimes he was sensible, but he didn't talk, and when we asked him about the shooting he looked at us as if he'd plumb forgot.

Then, one day, it all came back and he gave us his story.”

”The night was dark and Douglas could not see much,” Deering remarked.

”I expect you had something to go on that helped you fill out his statement.”

The sergeant smiled. ”The trooper who measured up the distances and made a plan of the clearing was a surveyor's clerk. Then Douglas was shot in the center of his chest, but the mark at the back was to one side.

Besides, we had got Mr. Leyland's hired man; Miss Jardine put us on his track. He sure doesn't like Mr. Leyland but his tale was useful.”

”In fact, if Mr. Leyland had not pulled out, you would not have bothered him?”

”I expect that is so. When Stannard sent Mr. Leyland off, he reckoned to give us a useful clue. Our duty was to try the clue.”

Jimmy looked up sharply, but Deering said, ”Stannard's plan was good, but your officers are not fools. Then another thing is obvious; if you had tried very hard, you might have hit Mr. Leyland's trail before.”

”It's possible,” the sergeant agreed with a touch of dryness. ”Maybe the bosses were after Stannard. But I don't get it all yet. Stannard was not a fool. I guess he knew we couldn't put it on him that he meant to shoot Douglas. Since he was using the pit-light, he'd have gone to the pen, but I guess he could have stood for all he got. Yet when he saw he was corralled, he stepped back off the rocks!”

”Stannard was an English highbrow. A year or two in a penitentiary would have knocked him out. Perhaps this accounts for it.”