Three days more and our young friends bade farewell to Silver Lake.
Short though their stay had been, it had proved very pleasant, for it
was full of energetic labour and active preparation, besides a great
deal of amusement, so that quite a home feeling had been aroused in
their minds, and their regret at leaving was considerable.
But after the first few miles of their journey had been accomplished,
the feeling of sadness with which they set out wore away, and hopeful
anticipations of being home again in a few weeks rendered them cheerful,
and enabled them to proceed with vigour. The weather at starting was
fine, too, so that the night encampments in the snow were comparatively
agreeable, and the progress made during the first few days was
satisfactory.
After this, however, the good fortune of our adventurers seemed to
desert them. First of all one of Nelly's snow-shoes broke down. This
necessitated a halt of half a day, in order to have it repaired. Then
one of Roy's snow-shoes gave way, which caused another halt. After this
a heavy snow-storm set in, rendering the walking very difficult, as they
sank, snow-shoes and all, nearly to the knees at each step. A storm of
wind which arose about the same time, effectually stopped their farther
advance, and obliged them to take to the shelter of a dense part of the
woods and encamp.
During three days and three nights the hurricane raged, and the snow was
blown up in the air and whirled about like the foam of the roaring sea;
but our wanderers did not feel its effects much, for they had chosen a
very sheltered spot at the foot of a large pine, which grew in a hollow,
where a cliff on one side and a bluff of wood on the other rendered the
blast powerless. Its fierce howling could be heard, however, if not
felt; and as the brother and sister lay at the bottom of their hole in
the snow, with their toes to the comfortable fire, they chatted much
more cheerily than might have been expected in the midst of such a
scene, and gazed upward from time to time with comparative indifference
at the dark clouds and snow-drifts that were rushing madly overhead.
On the fourth day the gale subsided almost as quickly as it had arisen,
and Roy announced that it was his intention to start. In a few minutes
everything was packed up and ready.
"I say, Nell," said Roy, just as they were about to leave the camp,
"don't the sled look smaller than it used to?"
"So it does, Roy; but I suppose it's because we have eaten so much
during the last three days."
Roy shook his head, and looked carefully round the hole they were about
to quit.
"Don't know, lass; it seems to me as if somethin' was a-wantin'. Did ye
pack your own bundle very tight?"
"Yes; I think I did it tighter than usual, but I'm not very sure."
"Hum--that's it, no doubt--we've packed the sled tighter, and eaten it
down. Well, let's off now."
So saying, Roy threw the lines of the sledge over his shoulder and led
the way, followed by his sister, whose only burden was a light blanket,
fastened as a bundle to her shoulders, and a small tin can, which hung
at her belt.
The country through which they passed that day was almost destitute of
wood, being a series of undulating plains, with clumps of willows and
stunted trees scattered over it like islets in the sea. The land lay in
a succession of ridges, or steppes, which descended from the elevated
region they were leaving, and many parts of these ridges terminated
abruptly in sheer precipices from forty to sixty feet high.
The sun shone with dazzling brilliancy, insomuch that the travellers'
eyes became slightly affected by snow-blindness. This temporary
blindness is very common in these regions, and ranges from the point of
slight dazzlement to that of total blindness; fortunately it is curable
by the removal of the cause--the bright light of the sun on pure snow.
Esquimaux use "goggles" or spectacles made of wood, with a narrow slit
in them as a preventive of snow-blindness.
At first neither Roy nor Nelly felt much inconvenience, but towards
evening they could not see as distinctly as usual. One consequence of
this was, that they approached a precipice without seeing it. The snow
on its crest was so like to the plain of snow extending far below, that
it might have deceived one whose eyesight was not in any degree
impaired.
The first intimation they had of their danger was the giving way of the
snow that projected over the edge of the precipice. Roy fell over
headlong, dragging the sledge with him. Nelly, who was a few feet
behind him, stood on the extreme edge of the precipice, with the points
of her snow-shoes projecting over it. Roy uttered a cry as he fell, and
his sister stopped short. A shock of terror blanched her cheek and
caused her heart to stand still. She could not move or cry for a few
seconds, then she uttered a loud shriek and shrank backwards.
There chanced to be a stout bush or tree growing on the face of the
cliff, not ten feet below the spot where the snow-wreath had broken off.
Roy caught at this convulsively, and held on. Fortunately the line on
his shoulder broke, and the sledge fell into the abyss below. Had this
not happened, it is probable that he would have been dragged from his
hold of the bush. As it was, he maintained his hold, and hung for a few
seconds suspended in the air. Nelly's shriek revived him from the gush
of deadly terror that seized him when he fell. He grasped the boughs
above him, and was quickly in a position of comparative security among
the branches of the bush.
"All right, Nell," he gasped, on hearing her repeat her cry of despair.
"I'm holdin' on quite safe. Keep back from the edge, lass--there's no
fear o' me."
"Are you sure, Roy?" cried Nelly, trembling very much, as she stretched
forward to try to catch sight of her brother.
"Ay, quite sure; but I can't get up, for there's six feet o' smooth rock
above me, an' nothin' to climb up by."
"Oh! what _shall_ I do!" cried Nelly.
"Don't get flurried--that's the main thing, lass. Let me think--ay,
that's it--you've got your belt?"
"Yes."
"Well, take it off and drop the end over to me; but lie down on your
breast, and be careful."
Nelly obeyed, and in a few seconds the end of the worsted belt that
usually encircled her waist was dangling almost within reach of her
brother. This belt was above five feet long. Roy wore one of similar
material and length. He untied it, and then sought to lay hold of the
other. With some difficulty, and much risk of falling, he succeeded,
and fastened his own belt to it firmly.
"Now, Nell, haul up a little bit--hold! enough."
"What am I to do now?" asked Nell, piteously; "I cannot pull you up, you
know."
"Of course not; but take your snow-shoe and dig down to the rocks--
you'll find somethin', I dare say, to tie the belts to. Cheer up, lass,
and go at it."
Thus encouraged, the active little girl soon cleared away the snow until
she reached the ground, where she found several roots of shrubs that
seemed quite strong enough for her purpose. To one of these she tied
the end of her belt, and Roy, being an athletic lad, hauled himself up,
hand over hand, until he gained a place of safety.
"But the sledge is gone," cried Nelly, pausing suddenly in the midst of
her congratulations.
"Ay, and the grub," said Roy, with a blank look.
This was indeed too true, and on examination it was found that things
were even worse than had been anticipated, for the sledge had fallen on
a ledge, half way down the precipice, that was absolutely inaccessible
either from above or below. An hour was spent in ascertaining this,
beyond all doubt, and then Roy determined to return at once to their
last encampment to gather the scraps they had thrown away or left behind
as useless.
That night they went supperless to rest. Next morning, they set out
with heavy hearts for the encampment of the previous day. On reaching
it, and searching carefully, they found that one of the bundles of dry
meat had been forgotten. This accounted for the lightness of the
sledge, and, at the same time, revived their drooping spirits.
"What is to be done now?" inquired Nelly.
"Return to Silver Lake," said Roy, promptly. "We must go back, fish and
hunt again until we have another supply o' grub, and then begin our
journey once more."
Sadly and slowly they retraced their steps. Do what he would Roy could
not cheer up his sister's spirits. She felt that her back was turned
towards her father's house--her mother's home--and every step took her
farther from it.
It was a lovely evening, about sunset, when they reached Silver Lake,
and found the hut as they had left it, and enough of old scraps of
provisions to afford a sufficient meal.
That night they ate their supper in a more cheerful frame of mind. Next
day they breakfasted almost with a feeling of heartiness, and when they
went out to resume their fishing, and to set snares and make traps, the
old feeling of hopefulness returned. Ere long, hope became again so
strong in their ardent young hearts, that they laughed and talked and
sported as they had done during the period of their first residence
there.
At first they were so anxious to make up the lost quantity of food that
they did little else but fish, hunt, and dry their provisions when
obtained; but after a few days they had procured such an ample supply
that they took to shoosking again--having succeeded in making a new
sledge. But a thaw came suddenly and spoiled all their fish. A wolf
carried off the greater part of their dried meat one day while they were
absent from the hut. After this the frost set in with extreme violence,
game became more scarce, and fish did not take the bait so readily, so
that, although they procured more than enough for present consumption,
they were slow in accumulating a travelling store; and thus it came to
pass that November found Roy and Nelly still toiling wearily, yet
hopefully, on the shores of Silver Lake.