The Long Portage Part 37

Lisle could not remember how long he waited, beating his stiffened hands and stumbling to and fro to keep his feet from freezing, but at last, though he could see nothing, he heard a crunching sound, and he called out sharply.

"I've got here!" came the answer. "Where shall I leave the ice? Seems to be an opening in front of me!"

It was difficult to hear through the clamor of the water and the crash of drifting ice; but Lisle caught the words and called again:

"Turn your back on the wind and walk straight ahead!"

He supposed that Crestwick was obeying him, but a few moments later he heard a second shout:

"Brought up by another big crack!"

The voice was hoa.r.s.e and anxious, and Lisle, deciding that the lad was worn out by his journey and probably confused, bade him wait, and hurrying down-stream a little he moved out upon the frozen pool. He proceeded along it for a few minutes, calling to Crestwick and guiding himself by the answers; and then he stopped abruptly with a strip of black water close beneath his feet. On the other side was a ridge of rugged ice; but what lay beyond it he could not see.

"I'm in among a maze of cracks; can't find any way out!" Crestwick cried, answering his hail.

Lisle reflected rapidly as he followed up the creva.s.se, which showed no sign of narrowing. The snow was thick, the bitter wind increasing, and a plunge into icy water might prove disastrous. It was obvious that he must extricate his companion as soon as possible, but the means of accomplishing it was not clear. Crestwick was somewhere on the wrong side of the crack, which seemed to lead right across the stream toward the confusion of broken ridges and hummocks which, as Lisle remembered, fringed the opposite bank. He must endeavor to find the place where the lad had got across; but this was difficult, for fresh breaches and ridges drove him back from the edge. Presently the chasm ended in a wide opening filled with an inky flood, and Lisle, turning back a yard or two, braced himself and jumped.

He made out a shapeless white object ahead, and coming to another crack he scrambled to the top of an ice-block and leaped again. There was a sharp crackle when he came down, the piece he alighted on rocked, and Crestwick staggered.

"Look out!" he cried. "It's tilting under!"

Lisle saw water lapping in upon the snow, but it flowed back, and the cake he had detached impinged upon the rest with a crash.

"Come on!" he shouted. "The stream will jamb it fast!"

They reached the larger ma.s.s and moved across it, but Lisle, clutching his companion's arm, bewildered and almost blinded by the snow, doubted if he were retracing his steps. He did not remember some of the ridges and ragged blocks over which they stumbled, and the smaller rents seemed more numerous. It was evident that Crestwick was badly worn out and they must endeavor to reach the bank with as little delay as possible.

At last they came to the broad creva.s.se, farther up the stream, and Lisle turned to Crestwick.

"Better take off your skin-coat. You'll have to jump."

"I can't," said the other dejectedly. "It's not nerve--the thing's clean beyond me."

His slack pose--for he was dimly visible amid the haze of driving snow--bore out his words. The long march he had made had brought him to the verge of exhaustion; his overtaxed muscles would respond to no further call on them. For a moment or two Lisle stood gazing at the dark water in the gap.

"Then we'll look for a narrower place," he decided. "Where did you get across?"

"I don't know. Don't remember this split, but the ice was working under me. Perhaps the snow had covered it and now it's fallen in."

They scrambled forward, following the creva.s.se, but could find no means of pa.s.sing it and now and then the ice trembled ominously. At last, when the opposite side projected a little, Lisle suddenly sprang out from the edge and alighted safely.

"It's easy!" he called, stripping off his long skin coat and flinging one end of it across the chasm to Crestwick. "Get hold and face the jump!"

It was not a time for hesitation; the exhausted lad dare not contemplate the gap, lest his courage fail him, and nerving himself for an effort, he leaped. Striking the edge on the other side, he plunged forward as Lisle dragged at the coat, and then rolled over in the snow. He was up in a moment, gasping hard, almost astonished to find himself in security, and Lisle led him back to the snow-covered shingle.

"It strikes me as fortunate that I came to look for you," he observed.

"You'd probably have ended by walking into the river."

"Thanks," said Crestwick simply. "It isn't the first hole you've pulled me out of."

They reached the camp and the lad, shaking the snow off his furs, sat down wearily on a few branches laid close to the sheltering boulder, while Lisle took a frying-pan and kettle off the fire, and afterward filled his pipe again and watched his companion while he ate. Crestwick had changed since he left England; his face was thinner, and the hint of sensuality and empty self-a.s.surance had faded out of it. His eyes were less bold, but they were steadier; and, sitting in the firelight, clad in dilapidated furs, he looked somehow more refined than he had done in evening dress in Marple's billiard-room. When he spoke, as he did at intervals, the confident tone which had once characterized him was no longer evident. He had learned to place a juster estimate upon his value in the icy North.

"I was uncommonly glad to see the fire," he said at length. "Another mile or two would have beaten me; though I spent nearly twice as long in coming up from the Forks as the prospectors said it would take. I was going light, too."

"They've been doing this kind of thing most of their lives. You couldn't expect to equal them. Where did you sleep last night?"

"In some withered stuff among a clump of willows; I sc.r.a.ped the snow off it. That is, I lay down there, but as the fire wouldn't burn well, I don't think I got much rest. Part of the time I wondered what I was staying in this country for. I didn't seem to find any sensible answer."

"You could get out of it when the freighters go down with the dogs and sledges," Lisle suggested. "It would be a good deal more comfortable at Marple's, for instance."

"Do you want to get rid of me? I suppose I'm not much help."

"Oh, no!" Lisle a.s.sured him. "It only struck me that you might find the novelty of the experience wearing off. Besides, you're improving; in a year or two you'll make quite a reliable prospector's packer."

"That's something," replied Crestwick, grinning. "Not long ago I thought I'd make a sportsman; one of Gladwyne's kind. The ambition doesn't so much appeal to me now. But I want to be rather more than a looker-on.

Can't you let me put something into one of these claims?"

"Not a cent! In the first place, you'd have some trouble in raising the money; in the second, I might be accused of playing Batley's game."

"The last's ridiculous. But if I'm not to do anything, it brings me back to the question--why am I staying here?"

"I can't tell you that. I'll only suggest that if you hold out until you come into your property, you'll go back much more fit in several ways to look after it. I should imagine you'd find less occasion to emulate people like Batley and Gladwyne then. Of course, I don't know if that's worth waiting for."

It was the nearest approach to seriousness he considered advisable, for precept was obnoxious to him and apt to be resented by his companion.

"Now," he added, "what about the mail?"

Crestwick produced a packet of letters which he had not opened yet and Lisle glanced at two business communications. The boulder kept off most of the snow, and the glare of the snapping branches, rising and falling with the gusts, supplied sufficient light.

"Mine's from Bella; there's news in it," Crestwick remarked. "She says Carew--I don't think you've seen him--is anxious to marry her, and if she's convinced that I'm getting on satisfactorily, she'll probably agree. He's--I'm quoting--about as good as she's likely to get; that's Bella all over."

"What's he like?" Lisle asked with interest.

"To tell the truth, in one way I think she's right--the man's straight; not the Marple crowd's style. In fact, I found him decidedly stand-offish, though I'll own there might have been a reason for that.

Anyhow, I'm glad; she might have done a good deal worse. I suppose you won't mind giving me a testimonial that will set her doubts at rest?"

"You shall have it. Since the man's a good one, I'm nearly as glad as you are. I've a strong respect for your sister; she stood by you pluckily."

"That's true," a.s.serted Crestwick. "I was a bit of an imbecile, and she's really hard to beat. She says if the life here's too tough for me I'm to come back and live with them. That's considerate, because in a way she can't want me, though I haven't the least doubt she'd make Carew put up with my company. It decides the question--I'm not going."

"A little while ago you'd have taken Carew's delight for granted, wouldn't you?"

"I'm beginning to see things," Crestwick answered with a wave of his hand. Then he paused and looked confused. "After all, though she says I'm to give you the message, Bella really goes too far now and then."

"She doesn't always mean it. You may as well obey her."

"It's this--if it's any consolation, she has no intention of forgetting you, and Arthur--that's the fellow's name--is anxious to make your acquaintance. She says there are men who're not so unresponsive as you are, but Arthur has never been into the North to get frozen."

Lisle laughed--it was so characteristic of Bella.