Fix Bay'nets Part 60

"I shall be all right directly, my lad. This is grand. I hope by daylight that we shall be in safety."

"That's right, sir. My! shouldn't I have liked this when I was a youngster! Think we shall come back this way?"

"Possibly," said Bracy.

"Be easy travelling, sir. Why, we could sit down on our heels and skim along on the nails of our boots, with nothing to do but steer."

"Don't talk, my lad," said Bracy. "Now, forward once more."

The journey was continued, and grew so laborious at last from the smoothness of the ice, which increased as the gradient grew heavier--the melted snow having run and made the surface more compact during the sunny noon; and at the end of another couple of hours the difficulty of getting on and up was so great that Bracy changed his course a little so as to lessen the ascent by taking it diagonally.

This made matters a little better, and tramp, tramp, they went on and on, rising more swiftly than they knew, and little incommoded now by the darkness, for the stars were s.h.i.+ning out through the cloudy mist which hung over the slope, while their spirits seemed to rise with the ascent.

"Have we pa.s.sed the rocks along which we saw that body of men moving?"

said Bracy at last.

"I s'pose not, sir, or we must have felt 'em. They must have been a long way off when we saw 'em going along."

"Yes; the distances are very deceptive, and--Ah! stones, rocks. Here is the rough track at last."

They halted again, for by walking here and there they could make out that there was a rough track to right and left, comparatively free from snow, and if this were followed to the right there would be travelling which would necessitate their waiting for daylight, since it was all in and out among huge ma.s.ses of stone.

"We couldn't get along here, sir, very fast," said Gedge after making a few essays.

"No, it is impossible now," replied Bracy. "It would be a dangerous way, too, for it must, as we saw, cut the valley when; the enemy will come out."

He stood looking back and around him, to see that the darkness was lightened by the strange faint glare from the ice and snow around him; then, turning, he crossed the ridge of broken rocks and tried what the slope seemed like upon the other side, to find that it was a continuation of that up which they had toiled, and apparently much the same, the gradual curve upward to the mountain being cut by this band of rocks.

"Forward again, Gedge," he cried. "This must be right, for we are getting a trifle nearer to our journey's end, and more out of reach of our pursuers."

"Then it is right, sir; but I suppose we shall get a bit o' downhill some time."

They tramped on for the next hour, but not without making several halts, three of which were involuntary, and caused by more or less sudden slips. These were saved from being serious by the quick action of driving dagger-like the bayonet each carried into the frozen snow; and after repet.i.tions of this the falls seemed to lose; their risky character, the man who went down scrambling to his feet again the next instant and being ready to proceed. The still air was piercingly cold, but it only seemed to make their blood thrill in their veins, and a sense of exhilaration arose from the warm glow which pervaded them, and temptingly suggested the removal of their woollen _poshtins_. But the temptation was forced back, and the tramp continued hour after hour up what seemed to be an interminable slope, while fatigue was persistently ignored.

At last, though, Bracy was brought to a halt, and he stood panting.

"Anything wrong, sir?" whispered Gedge hoa.r.s.ely.

"No; only that I can get no farther in this way. We must fix bayonets, and use our rifles as staves."

"Right, sir."

"Be careful not to force your barrel down too far, so as to get it plugged with the snow," said Bracy; and then, as soon as the keen-pointed weapons were fixed, he started onward again, the rifles answering this new purpose admirably, and giving a steadiness to the progress that had before been wanting.

Consequently far better progress was made for the next half-hour, with much less exertion, and Bracy made up his mind that the first patch of pines they came to on the lower ground should supply them with a couple of saplings whose poles should have the bayonets fixed or bound upon them, so as to take the place of the rifles.

"I'm longing for the daylight, Gedge," said Bracy suddenly, for they had plunged into a mist which obscured the stars, "so that we can see better in which direction to go, for we ought to be high enough now to be safe from--Ha!"

Then silence.

"Safe from what, sir?" said Gedge, stopping short.

There was no reply, and after waiting a few seconds, feeling alarmed, the lad spoke again.

"Didn't quite hear what you said, sir; safe from what?"

There was no reply, and Gedge suddenly turned frantic.

"Mr Bracy, sir," he said hoa.r.s.ely, and then, raising his voice, he called his officer by name again and again; but the same terrible darkness and silence reigned together, and he grew maddened now.

"Oh Lor'!" he cried, "what's come to him?" and he went upon his hands and knees to crawl and feel about. "He's gone down in a fit, and slipped sudden right away; for he ain't here. He's half-way down the mountain by now, and I don't know which way to go and help him, and-- Ah!" he shrieked wildly, and threw himself over backwards, to begin rolling and sliding swiftly back in the way he had come, his rifle escaping from his grasp.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

A PRAYER FOR LIGHT.

Gedge glided rapidly down the icy slope for a good fifty yards in the darkness, with the pace increasing, before he was able to turn on his back and check himself by forcing his heels into the frozen snow.

"And my rifle gone--where I shall never find it again," was his first thought, as he forced back his helmet, which had been driven over his eyes: but, just as the thought was grasped, he was conscious of a scratching, sc.r.a.ping noise approaching, and he had just time to fling out his hands and catch his weapon, the effort, however, sending him gliding down again, this time to check himself by bringing the point of the bayonet to bear upon the snow. And now stopped, he lay motionless for a few moments.

"Mustn't be in a flurry," he panted, with his heart beating violently, "or I shan't find the gov'nor, and I must find him. I will find him, pore chap. Want to think it out cool like, and I'm as hot as if I'd been runnin' a mile. Now then; he's gone down, and he must ha' gone strite down here, so if I lets myself slither gently I'm sure to come upon him, for I shall be pulled up same as he'd be."

He lay panting, still, for a few minutes, and his thinking powers, which had been upset by the suddenness of the scare, began to settle themselves again. Then he listened as he went on, putting, as he mentally termed it, that and that together.

"Can't hear nothing of him," he said to himself. "He must have gone down with a rush 'stead o' falling in a fit as I thought fust; but it ain't like a fall. He wouldn't smash hisself, on'y rub some skin off, and he'll be hollering to me d'reckly from somewheres below. Oh dear!

if it only warn't so precious dark I might see him: but there ain't no moon, and no stars now, and it's no use to light a match. I say, why don't he holler?--I could hear him a mile away--or use his whistle?

He'd know that would bring me, and be safer than shouting. But I can't hear nothing on him. Here: I know."

Gedge rose to his feet and drove his bayonet into the snow to steady himself, without turning either to the right or the left.

"Mustn't change front," he said, "or I may go sliding down wrong and pa.s.s him," he thought. Then raising his hand, he thrust two fingers into his mouth and produced a long drawn whistle, which was a near imitation of that which would be blown by an officer to bring his men together to rally round him and form square.

"That ought to wake him up," he thought. "He'd hear that if he was miles away."

There was a faint reply which made his heart leap; and thrusting his fingers between his lips, he whistled again in a peculiar way, with the result that the sound came back as before, and Gedge's heart sank with something akin to despair.

"'Tain't him," he groaned. "It's them blessed eckers. I'll make sure, though."

He stood listening for some minutes, and then, with his heart feeling like lead, took off his helmet and wiped his dripping brow.

"Oh dear!" he groaned; "ain't it dark! Reg'lar fog, and cold as cold.

Makes a chap s.h.i.+ver. I dunno how it is. When I'm along with him I feel as bold as a lion. I ain't afeared o' anything. I'd foller him anywheres, and face as many as he'd lead me agen. 'Tain't braggin', for I've done it; but I'm blessed now if I don't feel a reg'lar mouse--a poor, s.h.i.+verin' wet mouse with his back up, and ready to die o' fright through being caught in a trap, just as the poor little beggars do, and turns it up without being hurt a bit. I can't help it; I'm a beastly coward; and I says it out aloud for any one to bear. That's it--a cussed coward, and I can't help it, 'cause I was born so. He's gone, and I shan't never find him agen, and there's nothing left for me to do but sneak back to the fort, and tell the Colonel as we did try, but luck was agen us.

"Nay, I won't," he muttered. "I'll never show my face there again, even if they call it desertion, unless I can get to the Ghoorkha Colonel and tell him to bring up his toothpick brigade.

"Oh, here, I say, Bill, old man," he said aloud after a pause, during which he listened in vain for some signal from his officer, "this here won't do. This ain't acting like a sojer o' the Queen. Standin' still here till yer get yerself froze inter a pillar o' salt. You've got to fetch your orficer just as much now as if if hailed bullets and bits o'

rusty ragged iron. Here goes. Pull yourself together, old man! Yer wanted to have a slide, so now's your time."