THE LIGHT THAT CAME.

Gedge knelt there gazing upward, unable to grasp the truth of that which

he saw; for all around him seemed blacker than ever; but as he looked

there was another glowing speck high up in the distance, and then

another and another started into sight, while the first he had seen went

on increasing in brightness; and, as he still kept his eyes fixed upon

it, the fact came to him at last--the belief that it was indeed the sun

lighting up the glittering peaks of the vast range--and he started to

his feet with a cry of exultation.

"Why, it is to-morrow morning!" he shouted. "Ah! I can help him now."

But for a time he could only wait on patiently, and watch the bright

glow extending, and stealing slowly downward, in a way which suggested

that it would be hours before the spot where he stood would be lit up by

the full light of day; and, hardly daring to move, he listened, and

twice over gave one of his long, piercing whistles, which were echoed

and re-echoed in a way which made him shudder and hesitate to raise the

strange sounds again.

"It's o' no use," he said. "He's gone down there, and he's dead--he's

dead; and I shall never see him again.--Yah! yer great snivelling

idjit!" he cried the next moment, in his rage against himself. "The old

woman was right when I 'listed. She said I wasn't fit for a sojer--no

good for nothing but to stop at home, carry back the washing, and turn

the mangle. I'm ashamed o' myself. My word, though, the fog's not so

thick, but ain't it cold! If I don't do something I shall freeze hard,

and not be able to help him when it gets light."

It was a fact; for, consequent upon standing still so long, a peculiar

numbing sensation began to attack his extremities, and it was none too

soon when he felt his way down the slope for a few yards, and then

turned to climb again. A very short time longer, and he would have been

unable to stir; as it was, he could hardly climb back to the place from

which he started. Cut he strove hard to restore the failing

circulation, keeping his body in active motion, till, by slow degrees,

his natural activity returned, and, forgetting the weariness produced by

such a night of exertion, he felt ready to do anything towards finding

and rescuing his officer.

"There's no mistake about it," he muttered, "standing still up in these

parts means hands and feet freezing hard. It's wonderful, though, how

these sheepskins keep out the cold. I ought to feel worse than I do,

though, at a time like this; but it's because I won't believe the

gov'nor's dead. It ain't possible, like, for it's so much more sudden

than being caught by a bullet through the heart. Oh he ain't dead--he

can't be--I won't believe it. Tumbled down into the soft snow

somewhere, and on'y wants me to go down and help him out."

He took another turn up and down to keep up the circulation, and by this

time he could move about freely, and without having to climb the ascent

in dread of going too far and reaching the perilous edge, with its

treachery of snow.

"Getting lighter fast," he said, "and I shall be able to get to work

soon. And that's it. I've got to think o' that. There's no help to be

got. You've got to find all the help in yourself, old man. My! ain't

it beautiful how the light's coming! It's just as if the angels was

pouring glory on the tops o' the mountains, and it's running more and

more down the sides, till these great holes and hollows are full, and

it's day once more."

As the golden rays of sunshine came lower, the mountain in front grew

dazzling in its beauty. Minute by minute the glaciers which combed its

sides leaped into sight, shining with dazzling beauty, like rivers and

falls of golden water; the dark rifts and chasms became purple,

lightening into vivid blue; and the reflected light kept on flashing

upon hollows and points, till, saving the lower portions, the vast mass

of tumbled-together ice and snow shone with a glory that filled the

ignorant common lad with a strange feeling of awe.

This passed off directly, however; and, as the darkness on a level with

where he stood grew more and more transparent, Gedge's active mind was

searching everything in the most practical way, in connection with the

task he had in hand. He could see now dimly that the snow to right and

left of him curved over the vast gulf in front--vast in length only;

for, thirty or forty yards from where he stood, there was the huge blank

face of the mountain going downward, as one vast perpendicular wall of

grey rock, streaked with snow where there were ledges for it to cling.

In fact, the snow from above hung hen; and there as if ready to fall

into the black gulf, still full of darkness, and whose depths could not

be plumbed until the light displaced the gloom, and a safe coign of

vantage could be found from which the adventurer could look down.

In fact, the young soldier was on the edge of a stupendous

_bergschrund_, as the phenomenon is termed by Swiss climbers--a deep

chasm formed by the ice and snow shrinking or falling away from the side

of a mountain, where the latter is too steep for it to cling. And then,

after a little examination to right and left, Gedge, with beating heart,

found the place where Bracy had stepped forward and instantaneously

fallen. There was no doubt about it, for the searcher found the two

spots where he himself had so nearly gone down, the snow showing great

irregular patches, bitten off, as it were, leaving sharp, rugged,

perpendicular edges; while where Bracy had fallen there were two

footprints and a deep furrow, evidently formed by the rifle, to which he

had clung, the furrow growing deeper as it neared the edge of the snow,

through which it had been dragged.

Gedge's face flushed with excitement as he grasped all this and proved

its truth, for, between where he stood and the footprints made through

the crust of snow, there were his own marks, those made by his bayonet,

and others where he had flung himself down, for the snow here was far

softer than upon the slope.

In spite of the darkness still clinging to the depths, Gedge began at

once searching for a safe place--one where he could crawl to the edge of

the gulf, get his face over, and look down; but anywhere near where

Bracy had gone down this was in vain, for the snow curved over like some

huge volute of glittering whiteness, and several times over, when he

ventured, it was to feel that his weight was sufficient to make the snow

yield, sending him back with a shudder.

Baffled again and again, he looked to right and left, in search of some

slope by whose means he could descend into the gulf; but he looked in

vain--everywhere the snow hung over, and as the light increased he saw

that the curve was far more than he had imagined.

"Oh, if I only knowed what to do!" he groaned. "I can't seem to help

him; and I can't leave him to go for help. I must get down somehow; but

I dursen't jump."

This last thought had hardly crossed his brain when a feeling of wild

excitement rushed through him; for faintly heard from far away below,

and to his left, there came the shrill chirruping note of an officer's

whistle, and Gedge snatched at the spike of his helmet, plucked it off,

and waved it frantically in the air.

"Hoorray!" he yelled. "Hoorray! and I don't care if any one hears me.

Hoorray! He ain't dead a bit; he's down somewhere in the soft snow, and

hoorray! I'm going to get him out."

At that moment the whistle chirruped faint and shrill again, the note

being repeated from the vast wall.

"He's this side somewhere," cried Gedge. "Out o' sight under this

curl-over o' snow. There he goes again, and I haven't answered. Of all

the--"

The cramming of his fingers into his mouth checked the speech, and,

blowing with all his might, the young soldier sent forth a shrill

imitation of the officer's whistle, to echo from the mountain face; and

then, unmistakably, and no echo, came another faint, shrill whistle from

far to the left.

"All right, Mr Bracy, sir! Hoorray! and good luck to you! I'm

a-coming."

He whistled again, and went off in the direction from which his summons

seemed to have come, and again he was answered, and again and again,

till, quite a quarter of a mile along the edge, the young soldier

stopped, for the whistles had sounded nearer and nearer, till he felt

convinced that he had reached a spot on the snow hanging just above his

summoner's head.

As he stopped he whistled again, and the answer sounded shrill and near.

"Below there! Ahoy!" he yelled, and mingling with the echoes came his

name, faintly heard, but in the familiar tones.

"Oh dear! What's a chap to do?" panted Gedge. "I want to holler and

shout, and dance a 'ornpipe. Here, I feel as if I'm goin' as mad as a

hatter. Hi! Oh, Mr Bracy--sir--ain't--half--dead--are--yer?" he

shouted, as if he had punctuated his words with full stops.

"Not--much--hurt," came up distinctly.

"Then here goes!" muttered Gedge. "I must try and get a look at yer, to

see where yer are."

The speaker threw himself on his faces once more, and began to crawl

towards the edge of the cornice, to look down into the fairly-light

chasm; but shrank back only just in time to save himself from going down

with a great patch of snow; and he listened, shudderingly, to the dull

rush it made, followed by a heavy pat and a series of whispering echoes.

Then faintly heard came the words: "Keep back, or you'll send an

avalanche down."

"What's a haverlarnsh?" muttered Gedge. Then aloud, "All right, sir.

Can yer get out?"

"I don't know yet. I must rest a bit. Don't talk, or you'll be sending

the snow down."

"All right, sir; but can't yer tell me what to do?"

"You can do nothing," came slowly back in distinct tones. "The snow

curves over my head, and there is a tremendous depth. Keep still where

you are, and don't come near."

"Oh, I can keep still now," said Gedge coolly. "It's like being another

man to know that's he's all alive. Oh! can't be very much hurt, or he

wouldn't call like he does. Poor chap! But what's he going to do?

Climb up the side somehow? Well, I s'pose I must obey orders; but I

should like to be doing something to help him out."

Gedge was of that type which cannot remain quiet; and, feeling irritated

now by his enforced state of helplessness, he spent the time in looking

down and around him for signs of danger.

The sun was now above the horizon, lighting up the diversified scene at

the foot of the mountain, and away along the valleys spreading to right

and left; but for some time he could make out nothing save a few specks

in the far distance, which might have been men, or a flock of some

creatures pasturing on the green valley-side, miles beyond the

termination of the snow-slope up which they had climbed. He made out,

too, the continuation of the stony track leading to the head of the

valley, and along which the party of tribes-men had been seen to pass;

but there was apparently nothing there, and Gedge drew a breath full of

relief as he felt how safe they were, and beyond the reach of the enemy.

Then, turning to the gulf again, he went as near as he dared to the

edge, and stood listening to a dull sound, which was frequently

repeated, and was followed by a low rushing noise, which kept gathering

in force till it was like a heavy rush, and then dying away.

"What's he doing?" muttered Gedge. "Sounds like digging. That's it;

he's been buried alive; and he's hard at work trying to dig himself out

of the snow with his bayonet stuck at the end of his rifle. Well, good

luck to him. Wonder where he'll come up first."

Gedge watched the cornice-like edge of the snowfield as the sounds as of

some one feebly digging went on; but he could gain no further hint of

what was going on, and at last his excitement proved too much for him,

and he once more began to creep towards the edge of the snow, getting so

far without accident this time that he could form an idea of what must

be the depth from seeing far down the grey face of the wall of rock,

certainly four or five hundred feet, but no bottom.

"He couldn't have fallen all that way," he said to himself. "It must go

down with a slope on this side."

A sharp crack warned him that he was in danger, and he forced himself

back on to firm snow, receiving another warning of the peril to which he

had exposed himself, for a portion many feet square went down with a

hissing rush, to which he stood listening till all was still once more.

Suddenly he jumped back farther, for from somewhere higher up there was

a heavy report as of a cannon, followed by a loud echoing roar, and,

gazing upward over a shoulder of the mountain, he had a good view of

what seemed to be a waterfall plunging over a rock, to disappear

afterwards behind a buttress-like mass of rock and ice. This was

followed by another roar, and another, before all was still again.

"Must be ice and snow," he said to himself; "can't be water."

Gedge was right; for he had been gazing up at an ice-fall, whose drops

were blocks and masses of ice diminished into dust by the great

distance, and probably being formed of thousands of tons.

"Bad to have been climbing up there," he muttered, and he shrank a

little farther away from the edge of the great chasm. "It's precious

horrid being all among this ice and snow. It sets me thinking, as it

always does when I've nothing to do.--If I could only do something to

help him, instead of standing here.--Oh, I say," he cried wildly, "look

at that!"

He had been listening to the regular dull dig, dig, dig, going on below

the cornice, and to the faint rushing sound, as of snow falling,

thinking deeply of his own helplessness the while, wondering too, for

the twentieth time, where Bracy would appear, when, to his intense

astonishment, he saw a bayonet dart through the snow into daylight about

twenty feet back from the edge of the great gulf.

The blade disappeared again directly, and reappeared rapidly two or

three times as he ran towards the spot, and then hesitated, for it was

dangerous to approach the hole growing in the snow, the direction of the

thrusts made being various, and the risk was that the weapon might be

darted into the looker-on. Gedge stood then as near as he dared go,

watching the progress made by the miner, and seeing the hole rapidly

increase in size as the surface crumbled in.

Then all at once Gedge's heart seemed to leap towards his mouth, for

there was a sudden eddy of the loose snow, as if some one were

struggling, the bayonet, followed by the rifle, was thrust out into

daylight, held by a pair of hands which sought to force it crosswise

over the mouth of the hole, and the next instant the watcher saw why.

For the caked snow from the opening to the edge of the gulf, and for

many yards on either side, was slowly sinking; while, starting from the

hole in two opposite directions, and keeping parallel with the edge; of

the cornice, a couple of cracks appeared, looking like dark jagged

lines.

It was a matter of but a few moments. Gedge had had his lessons

regarding the curving-over snow, and knew the danger, which gave him the

apt promptitude necessary for action in the terrible peril.

Dropping his own rifle on the ice, he sprang forward, stooped, and,

quick as a flash, caught hold of the barrel of the rifle lying on the

surface just below the hilt of the bayonet. Then throwing himself back

with all the force he could command, he literally jerked Bracy out from

where he lay buried in the loose snow and drew him several yards rapidly

over the smooth surface. The long lines were opening out and gaping the

while, and he had hardly drawn his officer clear before there was a

soft, dull report, and a rush, tons of the cornice having been

undermined where it hung to the edge of the icefield, and now went

downward with a hissing sound, which was followed by a dull roar.

"Ah-h-h!" groaned Gedge, and he dropped down upon his knees beside the

prostrate snowy figure, jerked his hands towards his face, and then fell

over sidewise, to lie motionless with his eyes fast closed.

When he opened them again it was to see Bracy kneeling by his side and

bending over him, the young officer's countenance looking blue and

swollen, while his voice when he spoke sounded husky and faint.

"Are you better now?" he said.

"Better!" replied Gedge hoarsely as he stared confusedly at the speaker.

"Ain't been ill agen, have I! Here, what yer been doing to make my

head ache like this here? I--I--I d' know. Something's buzzing, and my

head's going round. Some one's been giving me--Oh, Mr Bracy, sir! I

remember now. Do tell me, sir; are yer all right?"

"Yes, nearly," replied the young officer, with a weary smile. "Twisted

my ankle badly, and I'm faint and sick. I can't talk."

"Course not, sir; but you're all right again now. You want something to

eat. I say, sir, did you finish your rations?"

"No; they're here in my haversack. You can take a part if you want

some."

"Me, sir? I've got plenty. Ain't had nothing since when we had our

feed together. I ain't touched nothing."

"Eat, then; you must want food."

"Yes, I am a bit peckish, sir, I s'pose; but I can't eat 'less you do."

Bracy smiled faintly, and began to open his snow-covered haversack,

taking from it a piece of hard cake, which he began to eat very slowly,

looking hard and strange of manner, a fact which did not escape Gedge's

eyes; but the latter said nothing, opened his canvas bag with trembling

hands, and began to eat in a hurried, excited way, but soon left off.

"Don't feel like eating no more, sir," he said huskily. "Can't for

thinking about how you got on. Don't say nothing till you feel well

enough, sir. I can see that you're reg'lar upset. Ain't got froze,

have you--hands or feet?"

"No, no," said Bracy slowly, speaking like one suffering from some

terrible shock. "I did not feel the cold so much. There, I am coming

round, my lad, and I can't quite grasp yet that I am sitting here alive

in the sunshine. I'm stunned. It is as if I were still in that

horrible dream-like time of being face to face with death. Ha! how good

it is to feel the sun once more!"

"Yes, sir; capital, sir," said Gedge more cheerfully. "Quite puzzling

to think its all ice and snow about us. Shines up quite warm; 'most as

warm as it shines down."

"Ha!" sighed Bracy; "it sends life into me again."

He closed his eyes, and seemed to be drinking in the warm glow, which

was increasing fast, giving colour to the magnificent view around. But

after a few minutes, during which Gedge sat munching slowly and gazing

anxiously in the strangely swollen and discoloured face, the eyes were

reopened, to meet those of Gedge, who pretended to be looking another

way.

The sun's warmth was working wonders, and shortly after Bracy's voice

sounded stronger as he said quietly:

"It would have been hard if I had been carried back by the snow at the

last, Gedge."

"Hard, sir? Horrid."

"It turned you sick afterwards--the narrow escape I had."

"Dreadful, sir. I was as bad as a gal. I'm a poor sort o' thing

sometimes, sir. But don't you talk till you feel all right, sir."

"I am beginning to feel as if talking will do me good and spur me back

into being more myself."

"Think so, sir? Well, you know best, sir."

"I think so," said Bracy quietly; "but I shall not be right till I have

had a few hours' sleep."

"Look here, then, sir; you lie down in the sun here on my _poshtin_.

I'll keep watch."

"No! no! Not till night. There, I am getting my strength back. I was

completely stunned, Gedge, and I have been acting like a man walking in

his sleep."

Gedge kept glancing at his officer furtively, and there was an anxious

look in his eyes as he said to himself:

"He's like a fellow going to have a touch of fever. Bit wandering-like,

poor chap! I know what's wrong. I'll ask him."

He did not ask at once, though, for he saw that Bracy was eating the

piece of cake with better appetite, breaking off scraps more frequently;

while the food, simple as it was, seemed to have a wonderfully reviving

effect, and he turned at last to his companion.

"You are not eating, my lad," he said, smiling faintly. "Come, you know

what you have said to me."

"Oh, I'm all right again now, sir; I'm only keeping time with you.

There. Dry bread-cake ain't bad, sir, up here in the mountains, when

you're hungry. Hurt your head a bit--didn't you, sir?"

"No, no," said Bracy more firmly. "My right ankle; that is all. How

horribly sudden it was!"

"Awful, sir; but don't you talk."

"I must now; it does me good, horrible as it all was; but, as I tell

you, I was stunned mentally and bodily, to a great extent. I must have

dropped a great distance into the soft snow upon a slope, and I was a

long time before I could get rid of the feeling of being suffocated. I

was quite buried, I suppose; but at last, in a misty way, I seemed to be

breathing the cold air in great draughts as I lay on the snow, holding

fast to my rifle, which somehow seemed to be the one hope I had of

getting back to you."

"You did a lot of good with it, sir."

"Did I?"

"Course you did, sir. Digging through the snow."

"Oh yes, I remember now," said Bracy, with a sigh. "Yes, I remember

having some idea that the snow hung above me like some enormous wave

curling right over before it broke, and then becoming frozen hard. Then

I remember feeling that I was like one of the rabbits in the sandhills

at home, burrowing away to make a hole to get to the surface, and as

fast as I got the sand down from above me I kept on kicking it out with

my feet, and it slid away far below with a dull, hissing sound."

"Yes, sir, I heard it; but that was this morning. How did you get on in

the night, after you began to breathe again? You couldn't ha' been

buried long, or you'd ha' been quite smothered."

"Of course," said Bracy rather vacantly--"in the night?"

"Yes; didn't you hear me hollering?"

"No."

"When you were gone all in a moment I thought you'd slipped and gone

sliding down like them chaps do the tobogganing, sir."

"You did call to me, then?"

"Call, sir? I expect that made me so hoarse this morning."

"I did not hear you till I whistled and you answered, not long ago."

"Why, I whistled too, sir, lots o' times, and nigh went mad with

thinking about you."

"Thank you, Gedge," said Bracy quietly, and he held out his hand and

gripped his companion's warmly. "I give you a great deal of trouble."

"Trouble, sir? Hark at you! That ain't trouble. But after you got out

of the snow?"

"After I got out of the snow?"

"Yus, sir; you was there all night."

"Was I? Yes, I suppose so. I must have been. But I don't know much.

It was all darkness and snow, and--oh yes, I remember now! I did not

dare to move much, because whenever I did stir I began to glide down as

if I were going on for ever."

"But don't you remember, sir, any more than that?"

"No," said Bracy, speaking with greater animation now. "As I told you,

I must have been stunned by my terrible fall, and that saved me from a

time of agony that would have driven me mad. As soon as it was light I

must have begun moving in a mechanical way to try and escape from that

terrible death-trap: but all that has been dream-like, and--and I feel

as if I were still in a kind of nightmare. I am quite faint, too, and

giddy with pain. Yes, I must lie down here in the sunshine for a bit.

Don't let me sleep long if I drop off."

"No, sir; I won't, sir," replied Gedge, as Bracy sank to his elbow and

then subsided with a restful sigh, lying prone upon the snow.

"He's fainted! No, he ain't; he's going right off to sleep. Not let

him sleep long? Yes, I will; I must, poor chap! It's knocked half the

sense out of him, just when he was done up, too. Not sleep? Why,

that's the doctor as'll pull him round. All right, sir; you're going to

have my sheepskin too, and you ain't going to be called till the sun's

going down, and after that we shall see."

Ten minutes later Bracy was sleeping, carefully wrapped in Gedge's

_poshtin_, while the latter was eating heartily of the remains of his

rations.

"And he might ha' been dead, and me left alone!" said Gedge, speaking to

himself. "My! how soon things change! Shall I have a bit more, or

shan't I! Yes; I can't put my greatcoat on outside, so I must put some

extra lining in."

Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills · 第 63 / 74 题