Sometime during the course of the night the snow ceased to fall; and
morning broke clear and cold. Garth had turned in, intending to rise at
four; but Nature exacted her due, and it was seven before he awoke. The
sky was a bowl of palest, fleckless azure; the sun shone gloriously on
the field of snow; and the air stung the nostrils like the heady fumes
of wine. But he was in no temper to take any delight in morning
beauties; he ached in every bone and muscle as if he had been beaten
with a club; and at the sight of the mounting sun, he bitterly
reproached himself--and Rina, for the lost hours.
As for Charley, a glance at the boy showed that he was quite incapable
of further travelling for the present. He suffered as much from the blow
on the head as from the exposure in the snow. His mind was hopelessly
confused and wandering. In any case they had but a single horse left;
and only the one course of action was open to Garth. He instructed Rina
to remain where she was and care for the boy, while he pushed ahead.
Even Rina betrayed some surprise. "What you do?" she said. "Three men to
shoot, and Mary to watch _her_. You got no chance!"
"I'll find a way!" he said desperately. "This Death River, tell me about
it!"
Rina pointed northwest. "Big river, moch water," she said. "Come from
mountains. Ver' moch high falls; mak' lak thunder! Above falls, ver'
rough rapids, no can cross. Below falls, deep black hole; breeds say bad
spirits go there. Only one place to cross, half-mile below falls."
Garth caught the horse, who had fed himself as best he could by pawing
the snow off the grass, and packed his blankets and a supply of food,
including what was left of the little carcass Rina roasted. He learned
it was a lynx; but the flesh was sweet, and he was too thankful for
fresh meat to quarrel with the nature of it. He left Rina and Charley
with a better will, knowing she could doubtless get others, as she had
snared the first.
There was about ten inches of snow on the flat, with deep encumbering
drifts in the hollows; and his advance was very slow. The ill-nourished
horse wearied immediately; and any pace beyond a walk was out of the
question. Had Garth only possessed snow-shoes he could have made much
better time on foot. The vast expanse was as empty as a clean sheet of
paper; nevertheless, he saw the prairie was not without its busy
population, as evidenced by the number of tracks of little furry paws
that had crossed his course already since the snow finished falling.
At noon, having made about eleven miles (he figured), he came to the
brink of a coulee wider and deeper than any they had crossed hitherto;
and which contained a stream in the bottom, running blackly around
snow-capped stones. As he refreshed himself, and allowed his horse to
drink, he reflected that Grylls would have reached this stream the day
before about the time the snow commenced; and that it was likely the
outfit had camped on its bank until the storm passed. He determined to
search up and down before pushing ahead.
Sure enough, no more than two hundred yards down-stream he began to come
upon the tracks of horses and saw the bare patches they had pawed to
reach the grass; and a little farther he ran plump upon the fresh
remains of the camp; two bare spots where tents had been pitched, the
ashes of a fire, and innumerable tracks of men and horses--the whole
startlingly conspicuous in the sweep of unbroken snow.
Garth's heart swelled with rage and mortification to think what a little
distance had separated them during the night; and how by rising only
three hours earlier, he might perhaps have caught them. But presently
cooler counsels came to his aid; and when he considered the well-beaten
track that led over the hill beyond, he was thankful for so much luck.
He knew that at least until more snow should fall, they could never
shake him off again; and he rode after with a renewed courage. His
horse, too, freed of the entangling drifts, and sensing the other horses
ahead, seemed to overcome his weakness for a while; and loped over the
beaten trail with a good will.
Beyond this coulee the character of the country began to change.
Crossing a height, Garth saw a range of gleaming mountains off to the
west at no great distance; his course was heading him obliquely into the
foothills. The prairie gradually broke up; the mounds became hills; and
the hollows deepened into valleys. With every mile, almost, the hills
became higher and more conical; outcroppings of rock began to appear;
and the little streams ran in gorges now, instead of coulees.
In the rougher country the horse's access of courage soon failed. His
wind was gone, he sobbed for breath; and Garth was presently reduced to
the necessity of leading him up every incline. On a wide flat between
two ranges, he mounted after a long walk, and urged him into a run over
this easy piece. The slack-twisted animal was not equal to the effort;
halfway across, his heart broke; and he collapsed in a heap, ploughing
up the snow, and flinging his rider over his head. When Garth returned
to him, he was stone dead. In the midst of his chagrin the man could
spare a glance of pity for the shaggy, misshapen beast. One of the
vulgar equine tribe, at his best neither beautiful nor courageous, he
had nevertheless given his life to the journey.
Beside the stony watercourse that traversed this little plain, he made a
cache of saddle, bridle and what food he could not carry on his back.
Over the spot he piled a cairn of stones to mark it, and protect the
little store from marauding animals. In addition to blankets, rifle and
ammunition, he carried with him food sufficient for about five days. In
an hour he was on his way again.
During the rest of the day, and the following day, the character of the
country changed only in degree. The trail never carried him directly into
the mountains, but skirted among the foothills, which raised strange,
abrupt, detached cones on either hand--steep, naked, unreasonable shapes
of earth, like nightmare forms. Each day Garth plodded to the limit of his
strength, reckless of what lay before him, regarding only the beaten trail
which led the way. From various signs it was clear those ahead ever gained
on him; but he kept himself up with the thought that they must sooner or
later make an extended stop to recuperate their horses. Each night he made
his tea with snow-water; and, rolling up in his blankets beside the fire,
slept under the stars; and at dawn he was astir again. Hard work was his
beneficent sedative.
On the second night as he lay down he heard, or fancied he heard in the
stillness, the breath of a far-off, heavy sound. He ascribed it to the
roar of the great falls Rina had told him of; and the thought lent new
vigour to his limbs next morning. He had another reason to hurry his
steps; for each day had waxed a little warmer; and to-day the snow
melted fast, threatening at last to obliterate the track he followed.
In the afternoon the going became harder, for the mountains reached down
long spurs athwart his path, over which he had to toil. Like the conical
hills they were bare of all timber; only the valleys and gulches were
wooded. On the first of these ascents, burdened as he was, over-exertion
and insufficient sleep began to tell on Garth; and he became conscious,
for the first, of a terrible weariness in his back. He crushed it down;
he could _not_ fail; he _had_ to keep on. But the next ascent was harder
still; and the shape of fear grew in his breast.
The third long climb was nearly his finish. He would not allow himself
to pause on the way up, though his heart knocked sickeningly against his
ribs, while flames danced in front of his eyes, and there was a roaring
in his ears. Gaining the summit at last, he flung himself down, afraid
for the moment to look at the obstacles beyond. As he slowly recovered,
a real booming disassociated itself from the noises in his head; and he
eagerly raised his head. His eyes swept over a far and wide expanse of
snow, a dish-like plateau among the hills. His heart leaped; for through
the centre of the plateau ran a black fissure, like a crack in the dish;
and off to the left a fleecy cloud rose lazily from the gorge, blushing
pinkly in the light of the setting sun. This must mark the falls; the
Death River lay at his feet.
The excitement of this discovery was immediately superseded by a far
greater. In a direct line with him, on the plain beyond the gorge, he
presently distinguished a few scattering, black objects like insects on
the snow--but insects of the shape of horses. From the gorge itself,
perfectly distinct in the crystalline air, rose a thin, blue column of
smoke!
The haggard furrows in Garth's face smoothed out; his weary eyes shot
forth a quiet glint; and he slowly and grimly smiled. He arose; and
instinctively unslinging his gun, examined the mechanism. A goodly
warmth diffused itself throughout his veins; and he felt strong again.
The end of his journey was in sight.
Darkness had fallen before he reached the lip of the canyon. With bated
breath he crawled to the edge and looked over--there was a chance they
had escaped him again--but in the bottom of the pit, on the other side
of the river, a fire was flickering redly in the darkness; and there was
a hint of figures sitting around it. His heart beat strongly at the
reassuring sight.
The tracks in the snow led him to the top of the path, which descended
into the gorge. This path was steep, narrow, tortuous and slippery; and
he knew not what conditions awaited him at the bottom. Prudence
counselled him to wait for daylight to reconnoitre; but it was not
possible to contain his impatience the night through, with Natalie so
near, and he not knowing if she was safe. He started down instantly,
feeling his way foot by foot; and ever careful to dislodge no stone that
might betray him. Within the gorge the boom of the falls was largely
deadened by a bend in the walls above; and lighter sounds became
audible: the lapping of the river on the stones; and, as he came nearer,
someone breaking sticks for the fire below.
Between him and the fire rolled the river with a deep, swift current.
There was no more than a scant fifty yards between wall and wall of the
gorge at the bottom. Coming still closer, he saw by the light of the
fire that their camp was pitched on a triangle of flat ground, formed
where a steep watercourse had made a perpendicular fissure in the
opposite wall of the gorge. On one side of the fire was pitched a small
"outside" tent--the same tent Garth had watched so long when it stood
outside Mabyn's shack--and on the other side stood a tepee. A small
raft, half drawn out of the water, explained their means of crossing the
river.
The descending path finally landed Garth on a precipitous incline of
broken rock at the water's edge; and there, across the stream, so close
he could have tossed a pebble into their midst, sat those he had tracked
so far, all unsuspicious of his nearness. They were having their evening
meal. Natalie was among them, facing him, the firelight strong on her.
Her face was set and sad--but still unhumbled; and from this and the
obsequious poise of Grylls's head, when he turned to her, Garth knew she
was so far safe from him. His heart breathed a still hymn of thankfulness.
Grylls sat on the other side of the fire, with his back against a rock.
He still wore the bewrinkled suit of store clothes which had become so
hateful in Garth's sight; and the broad-brimmed hat was set at a rakish
angle. He was in a jovial humour, judging from the thick unction of his
speech; doubtless, though he seldom looked at her, in his own way he was
seeking to charm his cold and silent prisoner.
Mabyn's back was turned to Garth; his attitude was furtive; and
apparently he spoke little. Garth did not trouble about him; for he knew
instinctively that so long as the stronger man was by, Natalie stood in
no danger from Mabyn. Mary Co-que-wasa, serving the food, hovered behind
the fire, which threw a strange, exaggerated shadow of her hag-like form
on the cliff. Nearer Garth, at a little distance from the others, Xavier
sat on the ground, busy with his cup and plate.
Garth watched Natalie with a swelling heart. How brave she was! how
noble and befitting the air with which she faced her terrible situation!
The proud sadness of her face was infinitely more affecting than any
extreme of distress could have been. Garth bled inwardly, to think of
the torments of mind she must have endured. He yearned mightily to let
her know he was near. He crouched at the edge of the water, willing a
message of cheer to her; and heartened himself with the assurance that
she could not but feel it.
She ate little; and, presently arising, disappeared within the tent.
Grylls drew out the inevitable cigars, and, carelessly tossing one
to Mabyn, lit his own. Mary went about collecting the dishes. Xavier
carried his plate to the river side to wash it. Garth handled his
rifle with fingers itching for the trigger. There were the four of
them, all unconscious, delivered into his hands, it seemed.
But he spared them for a while. It was not that he shrank from shedding
blood now; taking their lives troubled him no more than killing so much
vermin. But, close as they were, he could not be sure of nailing them
all; a dive outside the firelight, and they were safe. And Natalie was
in their hands; and he had no way of crossing the river. He must rescue
her first.
Mary went into the tent, which she apparently shared with Natalie; and
presently reappeared with a dishtowel. Lifting a pail of hot water from
the fire, she prepared to wash the dishes. The fire was dying down, and
gathering an armful of brush, she heaped it on to make a light.
Too late Garth appreciated the significance of this act. He turned to
escape up the path again; and in his hurry dislodged a heavy stone,
which rolled into the water with a splash. He faced about with his rifle
ready. Only Xavier, at the water's edge, heard the sound, and looked up.
At the same instant the fire sprang into a blaze, filling the canyon
with light; and plainly revealing Garth and his shadow behind him on the
rock. The breed sprang to his feet with a cry of warning. It was the
last sound, save one, that he ever made. The sharp, light bark of
Garth's rifle reverberated in the gorge; the breed spun around with a
throaty, quenched cry, toppled over backward into deep water, and was
swept away.
Before Garth could aim again, Mary Co-que-wasa seized her pail of water,
and flung it hissing on the fire. Absolute darkness filled the canyon.