Duncan was first to the fore in the morning. He touched Captain Talbot
lightly on the shoulder, and he awoke at once.
It took a whole series of shakings, however, to arouse Conal. He had
been dreaming of his far-off Highland home, and when he did at last sit
up and rub his eyes, it took him fully a minute to know where he was in
particular.
Well, while the men prepared a simple breakfast of coffee, sardines,
butter, and soft tack, the skipper and the boys left the cave and went
in for as thorough ablution as was in their power at the snow-water
rill. They felt infinitely refreshed thereafter; a large box of
sardines, placed for discussion before each, disappeared almost
magically, for bracing indeed was the breeze that blew high up on this
dreary mountain.
And now, the sun being well up, climbing was resumed.
Only about two thousand feet more remained to be discussed, but this
formed the toughest climb of all. For not only was the breeze now high
and the gradient steep, but the cold was intense, while breathing was
far from easy.
Indeed, although an ascent of ten to twelve thousand feet may not be
considered a tall record for accomplished club-men in the Alpine regions
of Europe, it would be a terrible undertaking for even those among the
perpetual snows of the Antarctic.
It needed not only all the strength, but even all the courage that our
heroes were possessed of, to finally succeed. For in many parts a
single slip might have precipitated three of them at least into chasms
or over precipices that were too fearful even to think of.
Indeed, several such slips did occur, but luckily the ropes held, and
the foremost men, planting their feet firmly against the mountain-side,
succeeded in preventing an accident.
The danger was quite as great, when steps had to be hewn on the sides of
ice-rocks, and the labour in such cases five times as fatiguing, and
happy they felt, on every such occasion, when they found themselves on a
plateau.
"Whatever a man dares he can do!"
The grand old motto of, I believe, the clan Cameron; but many a man of a
different clan has felt the force and the truth of these brave words.
Both Duncan and his brother seemed to do so, when they stood at long
last with their comrades on the very summit of Mount Terror, and on the
brink of its terrible, though partially extinct, crater.
Who would venture to peep over into the awful gulf, which, by the way,
Ted Noolan believed to be really an opening into the nether regions--the
regions of despair?
Duncan was the first to volunteer. The others followed suit with one
exception.
What a gulf! It must have been acres in extent, and fully one thousand
feet in depth. The precipices that formed its sides were at times even
black and sheer; in some places overhanging, and in others sloping so
that one might have tobogganed down into the regions of perpetual fire.
Not everywhere down yonder, however, were flames visible. It was more a
collection of boiling, bubbling cauldrons, emitting jets of sulphurous
smoke, the surface of the molten lava being continually crossed by
flickering tongues of flame, transcendently beautiful.
Right in the centre was an irregular gaping mouth, and from this smoke
now and then arose, accompanied by hurtling horrible thunders that made
our strong-hearted heroes quiver. Not with fear, I shall not go so far
as that, but no one could tell at what moment an eruption might take
place.
To Duncan's waist the rope had been made fast, else he never would have
ventured to lean over that awful crater.
It was the captain's turn next. Then came Conal's and the men's.
All but Ted.
"Is it me myself?" he said, drawing back, when asked to do as the others
had done. "Fegs! no. It is faint I would entoirely, and faint and fall
over. Bedad! I've no raison to go to such a place as that before my
time."
Captain Talbot now proceeded to take his observations. His aneroid told
him, to begin with, that the mountain was more nearly twelve than eleven
thousand feet above the sea-level. Piercingly cold though it was, he
took time to make a note of everything. But I should not have used the
word "cold". This is far from descriptive of the lowness of temperature
experienced, for the spirit thermometer stood at 40 deg. below zero.
It was now four o'clock in the afternoon, and all hands were almost
exhausted from fatigue. But Talbot was not so foolish as to give them
stimulants. This would only have resulted in a sleepy or partially
comatose state of the brain, and an accident would assuredly have
followed.
"Now, men, we have seen all there is to see, and I've taken my
observations, so it is time we were getting down again to our sheltering
cave, in which we shall pass one night more. But we can say that we
have been the first to ascend this mighty mountain, and human feet have
never before traversed the ground on which you now are standing.
"See here," he continued, suiting the action to the word, "I place this
little flag--the British ensign--and though storms may rend it, this
mountain, and all the land and country around, shall evermore belong to
us."
He handed the still-extended telescope to Duncan as he spoke and pointed
to the south.
No open sea there! But the roughest, wildest kind of snow-clad country
anyone could well imagine. Yet, far far away, the jagged peaks of many
a mountain rose high on the horizon.
And now "God save the Queen", was sung, and the very crater itself
seemed to echo back the wild cheers that rose high on the evening air.
Solemn and serious all must be now however, for although the descent
would not occupy so much time, it was quite as fraught with peril as the
coming up had been, and even more so.
The rope was constantly kept taut, however, on every extra dangerous
position, with the happy result that they reached the cave in good time,
all tired, but all safe.
The cold was not nearly so intense here, however, and in the strange and
beautiful--nay, but fairy-like cave--it was almost _nil_.
Never did brave and weary travellers enjoy a supper more. So sure were
they of reaching their ship next day, that they gave themselves some
extra indulgences, and tins of mock-turtle soup were warmed and eaten
with the greatest of relish.
----
They sat long together to-night talking of home in the "olde countrie",
and many a droll yarn was told and many a story of adventure by sea and
land.
Bed at last, if one may call it a bed, with only the hard rock to lie
upon, and a rug wherein to wrap one's-self, curled up like a ferret to
retain all the warmth of the body. For sleeping-bags had been left
behind after all.
What though subterranean thunders roared far beneath them many times and
oft during the night, they heard them not, so doubly soundly did they
sleep.
There is always one thing to be said concerning adventures of a very
dangerous character, namely, that though kept up by excitement, we may
not be sorry to enter into them, and go through with them, too, like
Britons bold and true, still we are rather glad than otherwise when they
are over.
Our heroes awoke next morning, therefore, betimes, and squatted down to
breakfast, hungry and happy enough. Would they not soon be back once
more on their brave barque, to tell their comrades of all their strange
experiences?
It is doubtless a good thing for us that we are not prescient, else
thinking of troubles to come would cast a gloom over everyone's life
that nothing could banish.
Little did these officers and men of the _Flora M'Vayne_, as they
resumed their downward journey, know of the trouble before them.
They had reached the very last crevasse, and were in full view of the
ship, although at least five thousand feet above it, when an accident
occurred of a very startling nature indeed.
The plank was just thrown across and Conal had stepped on to it, roped,
of course, to his fellows, when, to their horror, it slipped, and was
precipitated into the chasm.
And with it fell Conal!
The skipper and Duncan had held the rope taut, but it snapped as if it
had been made of straw.
Luckily, although the wretched boy fell sheer down only a distance of
about fifty feet, the rest he slid on loose pieces of ice and snow.
On referring to the log-book of Captain Talbot, which lies on my table
before me, the abyss or ice-crevasse is stated to have been about two
hundred feet in depth. And there was no outlet.
Nor any apparent means of saving the poor fellow, for although his
companions would gladly have hurried to the ship for assistance they
could not cross that ice-ravine, nor could they retreat for want of a
plank.
So, poor Conal must perish!
----
It was about two bells in the first watch, and Frank with faithful Vike
was walking to and fro on the quarter-deck.
He had a telescope under his arm, and every now and then he directed it
to the far-off mountain, adown which he had observed his shipmates
streaming since ever they had arrived on the easternmost side of Mount
Terror.
How well named!
So good was the glass that he could count them as he came, and even make
out their forms. Duncan's was stalwart and easily seen, Conal's lither
far than Captain Talbot's, and the men were bearing their packages.
He watched them as they approached the last dread crevasse.
With some anxiety, he could not tell why, he saw the plank raised and
lowered across the abyss, and noticed that it was Conal's light form
that first began to cross.
Suddenly he uttered a bitter cry of anguish and despair.
"Mate, mate!" he shouted. "Oh, come, come! There has been a fearful
accident, and Conal is killed."
As if hoping against hope, both he and the mate counted the number on
the small ice plateau over and over again.
There had been six in all.
Now there were but five!
And these seemed now to be signalling for assistance.
There was but one thing to be done, however hopeless it might seem, and
that was to get up and despatch a party to the rescue as soon as day
should once more break.
Had they been ready they should have started at once. But Frank had a
good head on his shoulders for one so young, and in a matter of life and
death like this he was right in considering well what had best be done.
Of course he consulted with the mate, and he immediately suggested a
rope of many, many fathoms in length.
"Doubtless," he said, "poor Conal is dead, or if stunned he will
speedily freeze to death, but we would be all unwilling to sail away and
leave the poor bruised body in the terrible crevasse."
"Have we rope enough on board to be of real service?" asked Frank in a
voice broken with emotion.
"Bless you, yes, my boy, fifty fathoms of manilla, light, but strong
enough to bear an ox's weight."
"Thank God!" cried Frank fervidly.
There was little thought of rest now till long past sunset.
A plank of extra breadth was got ready, and the rope was coiled so that
several hands could assist in bearing it along.
Provisions were also packed, and so all was ready for the forlorn hope.
The relief party now lay down to snatch a few hours of rest, but, soon
after the crimson and orange glory of the sky heralded the approach of
the sun, they were aroused from their slumbers.
Breakfast was speedily discussed, and now they were ready.
There was no hesitation about Frank Trelawney, the Cockney boy, now. He
was British all over, and brave because he was British. His dearest
friend, Conal, lay stark and stiff in that fearful ice-gap; he would be
one of the first to help the poor bruised body to bank, ay, and bedew it
with tears which it would be impossible to restrain.
----
It had been an anxious and sad night for those on the hill. They could
until sunset see the wretched Conal in that darksome crevasse, and they
did all they could do, for they made up a bundle of rugs with plenty of
provisions enclosed and hurled it down.
Strangely enough, he could talk to those on the hillside, and they to
him, without elevating their voices.
They bade him be of good cheer, for signals from the _Flora_ told them
that preparations for rescue were already being made.
Frank's march across the great snow plains was a forced one, but an
hour's rest and a good meal was indispensable before the ascent could be
attempted.
Perhaps no mountain was ever climbed more speedily by men in any
country. They had the trail of the captain and his party to guide them,
but nevertheless the work was arduous in the extreme.
Should they be in time?
Or was Conal dead?
These were the questions that they asked each other over and over again.
They hoped against hope, however, as brave men ever do.