The Foreigner Part 45

At the cost of great pain and labour, he dragged within reach of the cave a number of dead trees. He was disgusted to find his stock of provisions rather low.

"I wish I'd eaten less," he grumbled. "If I'm in for a three days'

storm, and it looks like that, my grub will run out. I'll have a cup of tea to-night and save the grub for to-morrow."

As he was busy with these preparations, a sudden darkness fell on the valley. A strange sound like a m.u.f.fled roaring came up the ravine. In a single minute everything was blotted out before him.

There hung down before his eyes a white, whirling, blinding, choking ma.s.s of driving snow.

"By Jove! that's a corker of a blizzard, sure enough! I'll draw my fire further in."

He seized his shovel and began to sc.r.a.pe the embers of his fire together. With a shout he dropped his shovel, fell on his knees, and gazed into the fire. Under the heap of burning wood there was a ma.s.s of glowing coal.

"Coal!" he shouted, rus.h.i.+ng to the front of the cave. "Coal! Coal!

Oh, Jack! Dear old Jack! It's coal!"

Trembling between fear and hope, he broke in pieces the glowing lumps, rushed back to the seam, gathered more of the black stuff, and heaped it around the fire. Soon his doubts were all at rest.

The black lumps were soon on fire and blazed up with a blue flame.

But for his foot, he would have mounted Jacob and ridden straight off for the ranch through all the storm.

"Let her snow!" he cried, gazing into the whirling mist before his eyes. "I've got the stuff that beats blizzards!"

He turned to his tea making, now pausing to examine the great black seam, and again going to the cave entrance to whistle for his dogs.

As he stood listening to the soft whis.h.i.+ng roar of the storm, he thought he heard the deep bay of Queen's voice. Holding his breath, he listened again. In the pause of the storm he heard, and distinctly this time, that deep musical note.

"They're digging out a wolf," he said. "They'll get tired and come back soon."

He drank his tea, struggled down the steep slope, the descent made more difficult by the covering of soft snow upon it, and drew another pail of water for evening use. Still the dogs did not appear. He went to the cave's mouth again, and whistled loud and long. This time quite distinctly he caught Queen's long, deep bay, and following that, a call as of a human voice.

"What?" he said, "some one out in that storm?"

He dropped upon his knees, put his hands up to his ears, and listened intently again. Once more, in a lull of the gale, he heard a long, clear call.

"Heavens above!" he cried, "a woman's voice! And I can't make a hundred yards with this foot of mine."

He knew enough of blizzards to realize the extreme danger to any one caught in those blinding, whirling snow clouds.

"I can't stay here, and I can't make it with this foot, but--yes--By Jove! Jacob can, though."

He seized his saddle and struggled out into the storm. Three paces from the door he fell headlong into a soft drift, wrenching his foot anew. Choking, blinded, and almost fainting with the pain, he got to his feet once more and fought his way down the slope to where he knew his horse must be.

"Jacob!" he called, "where are you?"

The faithful broncho answered with a glad whinny.

"All right, old boy, I'll get you."

In a few minutes he was on the broncho's back and off down the valley, feeling his way carefully among the trees and over stones and logs. As he went on, he caught now and then Queen's ringing bugle-note, and as often as he caught it he answered with a loud "Halloo!" It was with the utmost difficulty that he could keep Jacob's head toward the storm. Yard by yard he pressed his way against the gale, holding his direction by means of the flowing stream. Nearer and nearer sounded the cry of the hound, till in answer to his shouting he heard a voice call loud and clear. The valley grew wider, the timber more open, and his progress became more rapid. Soon, through the drifting ma.s.s, he caught sight of two white moving figures. The dogs bounded toward him.

"h.e.l.lo there!" he called. "Here you are; come this way."

He urged forward his horse till he was nearly upon them.

"Oh, Kalman! Kalman! I knew it was you!"

In an instant he was off his horse and at her side.

"You! You!" he shouted aloud above the howling gale. "Marjorie!

Marjorie!" He had her in his arms, kissing her face madly, while sobbing, panting, laughing, she sank upon his breast.

"Oh, Kalman! Kalman!" she gasped. "You must stop! You must stop!

Oh! I am so glad! You must stop!"

"G.o.d in Heaven!" shouted the man, boy no longer. "Who can stop me?

How can I stop? You might have died here in the snow!"

At a little distance the other figure was hanging to a tree, evidently near to exhaustion.

"Oh, Kalman, we were fair done when the dogs came, and then I wouldn't stop, for I knew you were near. But my! my! you were so long!"

The boy still held her in his arms.

"I say, young man, what the deuce are we going to do?

I'm played out. I cawn't move a blawsted foot."

The voice recalled Kalman from heaven to earth. He turned to the speaker and made out Mr. Edgar Penny.

"Do!" cried Kalman. "Why, make for my camp. Come along.

It's up stream a little distance, and we can feel our way.

Climb up, Marjorie."

"Can I?"

"Yes, at once," said Kalman, taking full command of her.

"Now, hold on tight, and we'll soon be at camp."

With the gale in their backs, they set off up stream, the men holding by the stirrups. For some minutes they battled on through the blizzard. Well for them that they had the brawling Creek to guide them that night, for through this swaying, choking curtain of snow it was impossible to see more than a horse length.

In a few minutes Mr. Penny called out, "I say, I cawn't go a step further. Let's rest a bit." He sat down in the snow. Every moment the wind was blowing colder.

"Come on!" shouted Kalman through the storm. "We must keep going or we'll freeze."

But there was no answer.

"Mr. Penny! Mr. Penny!" cried Marjorie, "get up! We must go on!"

Still there was no answer. Kalman made his way round to the man's side. He was fast asleep.

"Get up! Get up, you fool, or you will be smothered!" said Kalman, roughly shaking him. "Get up, I say!"