To Win or to Die Part 10

"That and the thought that we may have to mine underground for our gold," replied Abel. "Shall I begin?"

"No; you're weak yet, and it will be easier to clear away my workings."

Without another word the young man felt his way to the end of their little hole, tapped the rock with the shovel, and then stood perfectly still.

"What is it?" asked Abel.

"I was trying to make out where the air comes from, and I think I have hit it. I shall try and slope up here."

Striking out with the shovel and trying to cut a square pa.s.sage for his ascent, he worked away for the next hour, the snow yielding to his efforts much more freely than he had antic.i.p.ated; and as he worked Abel tried hard to keep up with him, filling the tin, bearing it to the other end beyond the sledges, and piling up the snow, trampling down the loads as he went on.

Twice over he offered to take his cousin's place; but Dallas worked on, hour after hour, till both were compelled to give up from utter exhaustion, and they lay down now in their greatly narrowed cave to eat.

This latter had its usual result, and almost simultaneously they fell asleep.

How long they had been plunged in deep slumber, naturally, they could not tell. Night and day were the same to them; and as Dallas said, from the hunger they felt they might have been hibernating in a torpid state for a week, for aught they knew.

They ate heartily of the biscuits, Abel's throat being far less painful, and once more the dull sound of the shovel began in a hollow, m.u.f.fled way.

A couple of hours must have pa.s.sed, at the end of which time so much snow had acc.u.mulated at the foot of the sloping shaft that Dallas was compelled to descend and help his fellow-prisoner.

"This will not do," he said. "We must get out some more provisions before we bury the sledges entirely."

"There is enough biscuit to keep us alive for a couple of days," replied Abel. "Let us chance getting out, and not stop to enc.u.mber ourselves with more provisions."

"It is risky, but I fancy that I am getting nearer the air. Go up and try yourself."

Abel went up the sloping tunnel to the top with ease, Dallas having clipped steps out of the ice, and after breathing hard for a few minutes the younger man came down.

"You must be getting nearer the top. I can breathe quite freely there."

"Yes, and the snow is not so hard."

"Chance it, then, and go on digging," said Abel eagerly. "I will get the snow away. I can manage so much more easily if I may put it down anywhere. It gets trampled with my coming and going."

Dallas crept up to his task once more and toiled away, till, utterly worn out, both made another meal and again slept.

Twice over this was repeated, and all idea of time was lost; still they worked on, cheered by the feeling that they must be nearing liberty.

However, the plan arranged proved impossible in its entirety, the rock bulging out in a way which drove the miner to entirely alter the direction of his sap. But the snow hour after hour grew softer, and the difficulty of cutting less, till all at once, as Dallas struck with his spade, it went through into a cavity, and a rush of cool air came into the sloping tunnel.

"Heavenly!" cried the worker, breathing freely now. "I'll slip down, Bel. You must come up and have a mouthful of this."

He descended to the bottom, and Abel took the spade and went to his place.

"The shovel goes through quite easily here," he said excitedly.

"Yes, and what is beyond?" shouted Dallas. "Can you see daylight?"

"No; all is black as ink. It must be a hole in the snow. We must get into it, for the air comes quite pure and fresh, and that means life and hope."

In his excitement he struck out with the shovel twice, and had drawn it back to strike again, when there was a dull heavy crack, and he felt himself borne sidewise and carried along, with the snow rising up and covering his face.

The next minute, as he vainly strove to get higher, the movement ceased, and he felt himself locked in the embrace of the snow, while his breathing stopped.

Only for a moment, before the hardening crystal which surrounded his head dropped away, and a rush of pure air swept over him and seemed to bring back life.

Then the sliding movement entirely ceased, and he wildly shouted his cousin's name.

His voice echoed from somewhere above, telling him that, though a prisoner, he was free down to the shoulders, though his arms were pinned.

But there was no other reply to the call, and he turned sick and faint with the knowledge that Dallas must be once more buried deep, and far below.

Around all was black darkness, and in his agony another desperate effort was made; but the snow had moulded itself around him nearly to the neck, and he could not stir a limb.

CHAPTER NINE.

UNDER PRESSURE.

The fit of delirium which once more attacked Abel Wray was merciful, inasmuch as it darkened his intellect through the long hours of that terrible night, and he awoke at last with the level rays of the sun showing him his position in a hollow of a tremendous waste of snow, while fifty yards away the sides of the rocky valley towered up many hundred feet above his head.

But it was daylight, and instead of the ravine seeming a place of horror and darkness, the snow-covered mountains flashed gloriously in the bright suns.h.i.+ne, whose warm glow brought with it hope and determination, in spite of the terrible sense of imprisonment, and the inability to move from the icy bonds. The great suffering was not bodily, but mental, and not selfish, for the constantly recurring question was, how was it with Dallas?

But the suns.h.i.+ne was laden with hope. Dallas was shut in again, but he had the tools and provisions with him, and he would be toiling hard to tunnel a way out, _if_--

Yes, there was that terrible "if." But Abel kept it back; for it was quite possible that he might still be getting a sufficient supply of air to keep him alive.

How to lend him help?

There was the face of the vast cliff some fifty yards away, and it was close up to it that they had been first buried, the fresh collapse, when the snow had fallen away and borne him with it, having taken him the above distance. It was probable, then, that Dallas would not be now very far below the glittering surface of the snow.

How to get at him?

Abel's first thought was to free one arm. If he could do that he might possibly be able to get at his knife, dragging it from the sheath at his waist. Then the work would be comparatively easy, for he could dig away the partly consolidated snow in which he was cased, and throw it from him.

He set to, struggling hard, but without effect, for it seemed to him that he was only working with his will, his muscles refusing to help; and by degrees the full truth dawned upon him, that the absence of pain was due to the fact that his body was quite benumbed, and a horrible sensation of fear came over him, with the belief that all beneath the snow must be frozen, and that he could do absolutely nothing to save his life.

Even as he thought this the benumbed sensation seemed to be rising slowly towards his brain.

"In a short time all will be over," he groaned aloud, "and poor Dal will be left there, buried, thinking I have escaped and have left him to his fate. Is there no way to escape from this icy prison?"

He wrenched his head round as far as he could, first on one side, and then on the other; but it was always the same--the narrow valley with its stupendous walls, no longer black and horrible with its unseen horrors in the darkness of the night, but a wondrous way to a city of towers and palaces gorgeous to behold. His eyes ached with the flas.h.i.+ng beauties of the scene. It was not the golden Klondike of his dreams, but a land of silver, whose turrets and spires and minarets were jewelled with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds; whose shadows were of sapphire blue or darker amethyst; and whose rays flashed and mingled till he was fain to close his eyes and ask himself whether what he saw was part of some dazzling dream.

He looked again, to see that it was no vision, but a scene of beauty growing more and more intense as the sun rose higher. The darkness had fled to display these wonders; there was not a chasm or gully that was not enlightened--everywhere save within the sufferer's darkened soul.

There all was the blackness of despair.

But black despair cannot stay for long in the breast of youth. Hope began to chase it away, and inanimate though the body was, the brain grew more active, offering suggestion after suggestion as to how he might escape.