“A HAZARD OF THE SNOWS,"

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16330, 20 January 1921, Page 5

“A HAZARD OF THE SNOWS,"

(By

OTTWELL BINNS.)

CHAPTER XX. With the coming of the storm that had driven Endicott and Betty to j shelter, Neil. Musgrave, liot upon their trail, was also forced to camp, and, for the four days that it raged, to remain inactive, eating his heart out witn anxiety. On the fifth day when the pursuit waa resumed all sign of the trail was lost, and when he and his comoanion reached the pl'ace where tne valley forked, not knowing whioh their quarry had followed they prospected both ways, and finally took the one to the right, which presently began to bear to the west. As they travelled

they kept a sharp look-out for any signs of encampment, and on tlio second day were driven to the conclusion that they had gone astra3' and that the trail vs as utterly lost. That night Musgrave had a consultation with the Indian, and found that the latter’s opinion agreed with Ins own. “ The man and the girl go the other valley. The snow make them camp; then they go on. They other side the hills.” “Yes,” said Musgravo ..despairingly, “ and ii w© go back wo shall lose another two days.” “ So,” said Ligoun, looking up to whore the stars shono coldly above the Heights. “ But if the hills be crossed “ We can cross them? ” interrupted the policeman excitedly. “ I do not know,” replied the Indian quietly. “I not been here. But a way may bo found; and if it is found we earn much time. Maybe from the heights w© see the girl and the man and make a cut-off.” Then in the morning we will cast about, and try and find a way over, Ligoun. It will be much better than going back.” Ginger Bob listened to the conversation without intervening; but he marked what was said, and was far from easy a» he contemplated the journey in i prospect. In the morning ho looked at the hills with thoughtful eyes; and ■ when Ligoun departed to prospect for ft way, he expressed his mind. “ Say, Musgrave, yer never goin’ ter be seek a blamed fool as ter try an’ cross them hills? ” “That is the idea.” “ Then ther sooner et ain’t ther idenr ther better; et can’t be done.” “Why not?” asked Musgrave sharply. “ Well, jest cast yer eyes ter thet place between ther two hills thar.” Musgrave looked towards the place indicated and a, puzzled expression came on his fat?. “ See anything?” asked the whiskygunner. “ Nothing particular! Certainly nothing to hinder.” “ Nothing ter hinder !” Ginger snorted contemptuously. “ Then look again and tell me what ther ’ell yer do see 1” Wondering if something had missed his gade, Musgrave looked again, long and. carefully. All that he saw was j one or two little clouds of vapour, which seemed to stream from the hills —nothing else; and he said so. 1 ‘ ’Zactly,” said Ginger Bob, “ an’ that vapour, as yer calls et, es snow —snow thet’s blowin’ m ther wind thet's nearly alius lifting cn ther tall hills. I know. I’ve seen thet kind o' thing before up in ther Nat mi Bass in Alaska- Man, efc's jest a ’ell of a blizzard on ther tops of them .hills, an’ I ain’t havin’ none. Hari-kari . ain’t mv style vet, an’ when et cb I’ll go out with a pistol to my head, an’ not freeze like a durned Esquimaux in ther snow.” “ You’ll go th© way I want you, said Musgrave quietly. “ Ter the p’leece-post, yep- But it ain’t up thar, an' I ain’t takin’ no trips across bloomin’ glaciers.” “ l!f I go there, you’ll go toe, if I want you.”

“Oh. will IP I sun-pose yer are thinking o’ thet dog-whip thet yer talked of thei other lay.” “ No,” said Musgr-tre quietly. 1 wasn’t thinking of that.” “ Then may I max© so ooid as inquire what ver weio thinkin’ of?” “Well.” answered Musgravo smilingly, “ I was thinking that d .on didn’t want to come, ? could leave you e ™Leave mo here?” . Ginger’s heart, jumped at the idea. \ai\j me camp here, yer mean?” , , . “If you want to do so. I shall t hinder you.” . . _ ‘ ‘ Whacks at ther p;©visions, I suppose ?V t , “ Theff you suppose wrong. . Ginger Boob stared at him in vrratn-f-ul amazement. “Do you mean the*, you’d leave me here ter starve, whilst yer goes off wi’ my dogs- . “ Mv dogs, I think. Ging©r,’ interrupted' Musgravo with a laugh. ‘ You re forgetting that you stole them, aren t von? My dogs and my provisions—and a man does what he likes with ins own von know. . . . You can stay here if you insist: hut you know the terms so you can think them over. Another’thing—if you decide to accompany us voir 11 do. your share or the work, without shirking: f,or I don’t question that to cross those- hills is going to bo a trving job. If you come you’ll have to help all you’re able/' “ An’ e£ I stops I starves! Yer a nice sort o’ Christian, ain’t yerr'” “ About tho average.” laughed Musgrave, turning and beginning to pack the sledge. About two hours afterwards Ligoun returned, and reported that he had found what looked like a feasible way across the hills. Then Musgrave looked at Ginger, who immediately began to put on his snow-shoes. “ I goes with yer,”. he said. “Guess I can say what I remember o’ the burial service over yer frozen remains.”

.\fusgrax r o laughed, and forthwith they started on a journey that none of them will ever forget. At first the

going was fairly easy, up the side of a hill, whence they gradually worked round in the direction of the smoking mountain-tops. But at the end of two hours, their real difficulties began, for by that time they had passed the timber line, and were fronting the glacial slopes. Bluffs lifted themselves in their way, which when they could not be skirted had to be climbed ; the sled being unpacked and its contents carried up on their shoulders. Treacherous snow-filled hollows intervened, on which the snow crust broke through, so that more than once dogs and men were in danger of being smothered. Then came the downy snow of the heights which no trampling would make firm ; which lmd to be waded through, and wherein the dogs marched brenstdeep. Then tho three men toiled mightily to pull the sled forward, dragging it"through and under rather than over tho mountain snow. Before they gained the head of this virgin pass Ginger’s estimate of the clouds of vapour was justified. -They encounter edw iud, the iron wind of the North, the deathly breath of the high altitudes laden with snow gathered from the hill-tops. The wind and snow together made a blinding inferno. More than once they were forced to halt in the shelter of convenient rocks, and when they started again it waa with heads lowered, and with every nerve crying out in travail. Late in th© afternoon they passed the i head of the pass, and began the descent on t-lie further side. Their toil was scarcely lessened, the dangers

thing were increased. Constantly they found themselves on the edge of dizzy cliffs; one© Ginger slipped down ft declivity into deep snow from which he was (lug out sobbing and cursing, and more than once the whole party wandered into drifts from which it was difficult to extricate themselves. But as the day wore on tho wind slackened, and tho air cleared of snow, and they reached the first wood, a few stunted willows. Beyond lay the spruce, and there was com para tiro safety. Musgrave cried out in exultation: “By Heaven—we’vo made it, Ginger!” • “ Yes,” growled Ginger, “we ve made et; but how ther’ ’ell we’re gom’ ter get back- ” He got no further. A loos© stone under the snow suddenly gave way. Ginger tried to save himself, but failed

and rolled down a elope which was net very steep, and landed up against one of the willows at the bottom. Then he tried to lift himself, and rolled over again with a grunt of pain. “ What is it?” ftsked Musgrave, making his way to liim. “My ankle!” answered the whiskyrunner tersely. “ \LVs broke or twisted.”

With a feeling of dismay, the policeman made such an examination as was possible without removing the footgear and then asked: “ Sure you can’t walk, GingerP”

“Dead sure. But I can try. Guess vye hev got ter got down ter the big timber before dark.” Musgrave helped him to his feet, and Ginger made the attempt. A groan waa torn from him as lie did so, but lie set his teeth and tried again. The second attemxit demonstrated that it was impossible for him to move without assistance, and in tho end, tho

Indian went on with the dogs to make a camp, whilst Musgrave and the injured man followed on at a much slower pace, the former assisting his prisoner as best he could over tho rough ground. When they reached the big timber it was quite dark; but Ligoun had a groat fire going, and a meal already cooking, which gave Ginger new heart. “ Nope,” lie said, when Musgrave proposed to examine his foot. “ Guess I’d as soon stoke up before inspectin’ damages. Thet bacon smells mighty good.” Tho meal was made, and then followed tlie inspection ox the injured foot and ankle ; both were badly swollen and discoloured, and when the investigation was completed, Ginger asked sharply, “ Broke ” “ I think not,” answered Musgrave, looking at. Ligoun. “Not broke,” agreed the Indian. “ Him pull hard an’ twist.” “ He means the muscles are badly wrenched,” explained Musgrave. “ I’ve seen something like it before. It ought to be strapped up; but as we’vo no plaster, we shall have to manage with bandages.” “ How long of a job es it?” asked Ginger. “ Don’t know* Depends on the extent of the injury. But it will be a week at least.” Ginger whistled softly, and wondered to himself what the policeman would do 1 They had risked death and fought their way over th© hills to save a couid© oi days or so; and now were faced with a week’s delay, when there certainly was need for haste, if they wore to get on the girl’s trail. As he bandaged the foot Neil Musgrave also wondered what would have to be done ; and he had not reached any solution of the problem when an hour later, as they sat smoking by th© fire, the Indian rose suddenly to his feet, and stood staring into the darkness. “ What is it?” asked Musgravo quickly. \ “There is someone who comes,” answered the Indian. Both the white men listened, and then Ginger growled his opinion on the statement. “Oh, rot!”

But Ligoun maintained his attitude of attention and presently the whit© men caught tho sound which he had heard long before them. Tt was the faint crunch ! crunch !. of snow-shoes. The sound cam© nearer; and Musgrave was conscious of a mounting excitement. Wild thoughts drifted across his mind ; impossible hopes leaped in his heart. Perhaps Betty “ Ther beggar’s travellin* whoever h© es! Guess he’s matin’ for thiscamp; on’ et’s plain he ain't got no dogs.”

“ How do you know?” asked Musgrave, as a sharp disappointment fell “They’d hev given tongue before this. Dogs es mortal human ; an’ t-liey knows when they’re maltin’ for a camp.” fTo l>» continued.)