Rick Dale, A Story of the Northwest Coast Part 26

After supper the Frenchman lighted a cigarette, the Indian puffed, with an air of intense satisfaction, at an ancient pipe, our lads toasted their stockinged feet before the few remaining embers of the fire, and, in various languages, all four discussed the adventures of the day.

Although they had much to say, their conversation hour was soon ended by their weariness and by the ever-increasing cold, which even a jet of volcanic steam could not exclude from that chamber of ice. So they speedily slipped into their sleeping-bags, and, lying close together for greater warmth, prepared to spend a night under the very strangest conditions that Alaric and Bonny, at least, had ever encountered.

Some hours later the occupants of the ice-cave became conscious of the howlings of a storm that shrieked and roared above their heads with the fury of ten thousand demons; but, knowing that it could not penetrate their retreat, they gave it but slight heed, and quickly dropped again into the sleep of weariness.

CHAPTER x.x.x

BLOWN FROM THE RIM OF A CRATER

When our lads next awoke they were oppressed with a sense of suffocation and uncomfortable warmth. It was still dark, and M. Filbert was striking a match in order to look at his watch.

"Seven o'clock!" he cried, incredulously. "How can it be?"

"_Cole sna.s.s!_" (snow) exclaimed the Indian, to whom the flare of light had instantly disclosed the cause of both darkness and suffocation. The cave was much smaller than when they entered it, and was also full of steam. Its walls were covered with moisture, and rivulets of water trickled over the floor.

"_Cultus snow!_ Heap plenty! Too much! _Mamook ilahie_" (must dig), continued the Indian, springing to his feet, and making an attack on the drifted snow that had completely choked the cavern's mouth. When he had excavated a burrow the length of his body, Bonny took his place, while Alaric and M. Filbert removed the loosened snow to the back of the cave, where they packed it as closely as possible.

Although a faint light soon appeared in the tunnel, it was a full hour before it was dug to the surface of the tremendous drift and a rush of cold air was admitted.

A glance outside showed that, while no snow was falling at that moment, the day was dark and gloomy, and the mountain was enveloped in clouds that were driven in swirling eddies by fierce gusts of wind.

In spite of the threatening weather, M. Filbert declared that they must begin their retreat at once, as they had but one day's supply of food left, while the storm might burst upon them again at any minute and continue indefinitely. So, after a hasty meal of biscuits and cold meat, the little party sallied forth. The Indian, having no longer a burden of fire-wood, relieved Alaric of his camera, and led the way. M. Filbert followed, then came Alaric; while Bonny, with a coil of rope hung over his shoulder, brought up the rear.

Oh, how cold it was! and how awful! To be sure, the dangers surrounding them were hidden by impenetrable clouds, but they had already seen them, and knew of their presence. As they started to traverse the rocky crater rim that still rose slightly above the snow, the entire summit was visible; but a few minutes later a furious gust of wind again shrouded it in clouds so dense as to completely hide objects only a few feet away.

Just then Alaric tripped on one of his boot-lacings that had become unfastened, and very nearly fell. That was no place for tripping, and such a thing must not happen again. So he paused to secure the loosened lacing, and, as he stooped over it, Bonny cried impatiently from behind:

"Hurry up, Rick! the others are already out of sight, and it will never do to lose them in this fog."

The necessity for haste only caused the lad's numbed fingers to fumble the more awkwardly, and several precious minutes were thus wasted.

With the task completed, Alaric, full of nervous dread, started to run after his vanished companions, slipped on a bit of glare ice at a place where the narrow path slanted down and out, and pitched headlong. Bonny saw his danger, sprang to his a.s.sistance, slipped on the same treacherous ice, and in another moment both lads had plunged over the outer verge of the sheer wall. There was a stifled cry, drowned by the roaring blast, and then, without leaving a trace behind them, they were lost to sight in the crowding mists. So complete was their disappearance that when, one minute later, M. Filbert and the Indian pa.s.sed back over that very place in anxious search of their young companions, they could neither see nor hear aught to tell them of what had happened.

Neither Alaric nor Bonny could ever afterwards tell whether they fell twenty feet or two hundred in that terrible, breathless plunge. Almost with the first knowledge of their situation they found themselves struggling in a drift of soft, fresh-fallen snow, and a moment afterwards rolling, bounding, and shooting with frightful velocity down an icy, roof-like slope of interminable length. Breathless, battered, bruised, expecting with each instant to be dashed over some awful brink, as ignorant of their surroundings as though stricken with blindness, the poor lads still tried, with outstretched arms and clutching fingers, to check their wild flight.

While they realized in a measure the desperate nature of the situation, its worst features were mercifully concealed from them by the clinging clouds. Had these lifted ever so little, they would have seen that their perilous coast was down a ridge so narrow that the alpenstocks flung from them as they plunged over the rim of the crater had fallen on either side into yawning chasms.

At length, after what seemed an eternity of this terrible experience, though in reality it lasted but a few minutes, they were flung into a narrow, snow-filled valley that cut their course at a sharp angle, and found themselves lying within a few feet of each other, dazed and sorely bruised, but apparently with unbroken bones, and certainly still alive.

As they slowly gained a sitting posture and gazed curiously at each other, Bonny said, impressively:

"Rick Dale, before we go any farther, I want to take back all I ever said about the life of a sailor being exciting, for it isn't a circ.u.mstance to that of an interpreter."

"Oh, Bonny, it is so good to hear your voice again! Wasn't it awful? And how do you suppose we can ever get back?"

"Get back!" cried the other. "Well, if we had wings we might fly back; but there's no other way that I know of. We must be a mile from our starting-point, and even to reach the foot of the place where we dove off we'd have to cut steps in the ice every inch of the way. That would probably take a couple of days, and when we got there we'd have to turn around and come down again, for nothing except a bird could ever scale that wall."

"Then what shall we do?"

"Keep on as we have begun, I suppose, only a little slower, I hope, until we reach the timber-line, and then try and follow it to camp."

"I wonder if we can?"

"Of course we can, for we've got to."

Painfully the lads gained their feet, and with cautious steps began to explore their surroundings. They walked side by side for a few yards, and then each clutched the other as though to draw him back. They were on the brink of a precipice, over which another step would have carried them.

While they hesitated, not knowing which way to turn nor what to do, the clouds below them rolled away, though above and back of them they remained as dense as ever, and a view of what lay before them was unfolded.

Rocks, ice, and snow; sheer walls rising on either side of them, and a precipitous slope forming an almost vertical descent of a thousand feet in front. There were but three things to do: Go back the way they had come, which was so wellnigh impossible that they did not give it a second thought; remain where they were, which meant a certain and speedy death; or make their way down that rocky wall. They crept to its brink and looked over, anxiously scanning its every feature and calculating their chances. The first thirty feet were sheer and smooth. Then came a narrow shelf, below which they could see others at irregular intervals.

"There is only one way to do it," said Bonny, "and that is by the rope.

I will go first, and you must follow."

"I'll try," replied Alaric, with a very pale face but a brave voice.

So Bonny, with the knowledge of knots that he had learned on s.h.i.+pboard, made a noose that would not slip in one end of their rope, tied half a dozen knots along its length for hand-holds, and fastened its other end about his body. Then he looped the noose over a jutting point of rock, and, slipping cautiously over the brink, allowed himself to slide slowly down.

It made Alaric so giddy to watch him that he closed his eyes, nor did he open them until a cheery "All right, Rick!" a.s.sured him of his comrade's safety. Now came his turn, and as he hung by that slender cord he was devoutly thankful for the strength that the past few weeks had put into his arms. He too reached the ledge in safety, and then, with great difficulty, on account of the narrowness of their foothold, they managed to slip the noose off its resting-place. Now they _must_ go forward, for there was no longer a chance of going back. In vain, though, did they search that smooth ledge for a point that would hold their noose. There was none, and the next shelf was twenty feet below.

"We must climb it, Rick, and this time you must go first. Put the loop under your arms, and I will do my best to hold you if you slip; but don't take any chances, or count too much on me being able to do it."

There were little cracks and slight projections. Bonny held the rope rea.s.suringly taut, and at length the feat was accomplished. Then Alaric took in the slack of the rope as Bonny, tied to its other end, made the same perilous descent.

So, with strained arms, aching legs, and fingers worn to the quick from clutching the rough granite, they made their slow way from ledge to ledge, gaining courage and coolness as they successfully overcame each difficulty, until they estimated that they had descended fully five hundred feet. Now came another smooth face absolutely without a crevice that they could discover, and the next ledge below was farther away than the length of their dangling rope. There was, however, a projection where they stood, over which they could loop the noose.

"We've got to do it," said Bonny, stoutly, "and I only hope the drop at the end isn't so long as it looks." Thus saying, he slipped cautiously over the edge, let himself down to the end of the rope, dropped ten feet, staggered, and seemed about to fall, but saved himself by a violent effort. Alaric followed, and also made the drop, but whirled half round in so doing, and but for Bonny's quick clutch would have gone over the edge.

There was now no way of recovering their useful rope; and fortunately, though they sorely needed it at times, they found no other place absolutely impossible without it. By noon, when they paused for rest and a scanty lunch of chocolate and prunes, they were down one thousand feet, and believed the worst of the descent to be accomplished.

Now came a rude granite stairway with steps fit for a giant, and then a long slope of loose bowlders, that rocked and rolled from beneath their feet as they sprang from one to another. They crossed the rugged ice of a glacier, whose innumerable creva.s.ses intersected like the wrinkles on an old man's face, and had many hair-breadth escapes from slipping into their deadly depths of frozen blue. Then came a vast snow-field, over which they tramped for miles with weary limbs but light hearts, for the terrors of the mountain were behind them and the timber-line was in sight. Darkness had already overtaken them when they came to a steep, rock-strewn slope, down which they ran with reckless speed. They were near its bottom when a bowlder on which Bonny had just leaped rolled from under him, and he fell heavily on a bed of jagged rocks.

As he did not regain his feet, Alaric sprang to his side. The poor lad who had so stoutly braved the countless perils of the day was moaning pitifully, and as his friend bent anxiously over him he said, in a feeble voice:

"I'm afraid, old man, that I'm done for at last, for it feels as though every bone in my body was broken."

CHAPTER x.x.xI

A DESPERATE SITUATION