To Win or to Die Part 9

"Ah, yes, and on mine too."

"We were out of heart last night," continued Dallas, encouragingly, "and in the scare thought we were done for. But we can breathe; we shall not suffer for want of food; the melted snow will give us drink; and once we can determine which way to dig, what is to prevent our finding our way to daylight again?"

"Our position," said Abel, in his faint whisper. "Where are we to put the snow we dig out?"

Dallas was silent for a few moments.

"Yes," he said at last; "that will be a difficulty, for we must not fill up this place. But never mind that for the present. We must eat and drink now, for we shall want all our strength. Pressed snow is almost like ice. Ah, here is the sledge--mine or yours. My head is too thick to tell which. Bel, lad, we are going to dig our way out, if it takes us a month."

"Yes," came rather more strongly; and the next minute Dallas Adams was feeling about the sledge for the tin which held the traveller's food.

It was hard work fumbling there in the dark, for parts of the sledge were pressed and wedged down by snow that was nearly as hard as ice; but others were looser, and by degrees he managed to get part of the tin free, when he started, for something touched his arm.

"Can I help you, Dal?"

"How you made me jump, lad! I don't know. Feel strong enough?"

"I think so; but I want to work. It's horrible lying there fancying the top of this hole is going to crumble down every time you move some of the snow."

"Lay hold here, then, and let's try and drag this tin out."

They took hold of it as well as their cramped position would allow, and tugged and tugged, feeling the tin case bend and grow more and more out of shape; but it would not come.

"No good," said Dallas. "I'll cut through the tin with my knife."

"But it's looser now. Let's have one more try."

"Very well.--Got hold?--Now then, both together."

They gave a sudden jerk, and fell backward with the once square tin case upon them, lying still and horrified, for there was a dull creaking and crus.h.i.+ng noise as if the snow was being pressed down to fill up the vacancy they had made, and then _crick, crack_, sharply; there was the sound of breaking, as portions of the sledge gave way from the weight above.

Abel caught his cousin's hand to squeeze it hard, fully expecting that their last moments had come; but after a minute's agony the sounds ceased, and the prisoners breathed more freely.

"It's all right, Bel," said Dallas; "but it did sound rather creepy."

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Abel. "I thought--"

"Yes, so did I, old fellow; but it's a mistake to think at a time like this. We only frighten ourselves. Now then, let's see what we've got."

"See?" said Abel bitterly.

"Yes, with the tips of our fingers. It's all right, I tell you; rats and mice and rabbits don't make a fuss about being in burrows."

"They're used to it, Dal; we're not."

"Then let's get used to it, lad. I say, suppose we were getting gold here, instead of a biscuit-tin; we shouldn't make a fuss about being buried. Why, it's just what we should like."

"I suppose so," replied Abel.

"It's what we shall have to do, perhaps, by-and-by. This is a sort of lesson, and it will make the rest easy."

"If we get out."

"Get out? Pis.h.!.+ We shall get out soon. The sun and the rain will thaw us out if we don't dig a way. Hullo! The lid's off the tin, and the biscuits are half of them in the snow. Never mind. Set to work and eat, while I pick up all I can find. I'm hungry. Peck away, lad, and think you're a squirrel eating your winter store. I say, who would think one could be so warm and snug surrounded by snow?"

Abel made no reply, but tried to eat, as he heard the cracking and crunching going on at his side. It was hard work, though, and he went on slowly, for the effort to swallow was accompanied by a good deal of pain, and he ceased long before Dallas gave up.

"How are you getting on?" the latter said in an encouraging tone.

"Badly."

"Yes, they are dry; but wait till we get our gold. We'll have a banquet to make up for this. By Jove!"

"What is it?"

"I forgot about your throat. It hurts?"

"Horribly. But I can manage."

Dallas said no more, but thought a great deal; and after placing the tin aside he turned to the sledge to try whether he could not get at the shovel bound to it somewhere, for the package was pressed all on one side by the snow.

After a long search he found one corner of the blade, and drawing his big sharp knife, he set to work chipping and digging with the point, with the result that in about an hour he dragged out the tool.

"Now," he said, "we can get to work turn and turn. The thing is, where to begin, for I have not seen the slightest glimmer of light."

"No; we must be buried very deep."

"Say pretty deep. Which way shall we try?"

"Up by the rock, and slope upward where the air seems to come."

"That's right. Just what I thought. And, look here, Bel, there's room for a couple of cartloads of snow or more about us here, and my plan is this: one will dig upward, and of course the snow will fall down of its own weight. As it comes down the other must keep filling that biscuit-tin and carrying it to the far end yonder and emptying it."

"And bury the sledge and the food."

"No: we can get a great deal disposed of before we come to that. Look here--I mean, feel here. We have plenty of room to stand up where we are. Well, that means that we can raise the floor. So long as we have room to lie down, that is all we want."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"After a while we must get out all the food we want and take it with us in the tunnel we make higher and higher as we go."

"Yes, that sounds reasonable," said Abel thoughtfully. "We shall be drawing the snow down and trampling it hard beneath our feet."

"And, I believe, be making a bigger chamber about us as we work up towards the light."

"Keeping close to the face of the rock, too," said Abel, "will ensure our having one side of our sloping tunnel safe. That can never cave in."

"Well done, engineer!" cried Dallas laughingly. "Here were we thinking last night of dying. Why, the very remembrance of the way in which animals burrow has quite cheered me up."