THE PASSING OF THE BRIDGE
Lifting his head very cautiously, Leonard looked over his shoulder and
the mystery was explained. In her madness and the fury of her love for
the mistress whom she had outraged and betrayed, Soa had striven to
throw herself upon the stone with them so soon as she saw it commence
to move. She was too late, and feeling herself slipping forward, she
grasped despairingly at the first thing that came to her hand, which
chanced to be Leonard’s ankle. Now she must accompany them upon their
awesome journey; only, while they rode upon the stone, she was dragged
after them upon her breast.
A flash of pity passed through Leonard’s brain as he realised her
fearful plight. Then for a while he forgot all about her, since his
attention was amply occupied with his own and Juanna’s peril. Now they
were rushing down the long slope with an ever-increasing velocity, and
now they breasted the first rise, during the last ten yards of which,
as in the case of Otter, the pace of the stone slowed down so much in
proportion to the progressive exhaustion of its momentum, that Leonard
thought they were coming to a standstill. Then it was that he kicked
out viciously, striving to free himself from the weight of Soa, which
threatened to bring them to a common ruin. But she clung to him like
ivy to a tree, and he desisted from his efforts, fearing lest he should
cause their sledge to alter its course.
On the very top of the rise the motion of the stone decreased almost to
nothingness, then little by little increased once more as they
traversed a short sharp dip, the same in which they had lost sight of
Otter, to be succeeded by a gentle rise. So far, though exciting and
novel, their journey had been comparatively safe, for the path was
broad and the ice perfectly smooth. Its terrors were to come.
Looking forward, Leonard saw that they were at the commencement of a
decline measuring four or five hundred yards in length, and so steep
that, even had it offered a good foothold, human beings could scarcely
have stood upon it. As yet the tongue of ice was fifty paces or more in
width, but it narrowed rapidly as it fell, till at length near the
opposite shore of the ravine, it fined away to a point like that of a
great white needle, and then seemed to break off altogether.
Now they were well under way, and now they sped down the steep green
ice at a pace that can hardly be imagined, though perhaps it is
sometimes equalled by an eagle rushing on its quarry from some vast
height of air. Indeed it is possible that the sensations of an eagle
making his headlong descent and those of Leonard may have been very
similar, with the important exception that the bird feels no fear,
whereas absolute terror are the only words wherewith to describe the
mental state of the man. So smooth was the ice and so precipitous its
pitch that he felt as though he were falling through space, unsupported
by anything, for travelling at that speed the friction of the stone was
imperceptible. Only the air shrieked as they clove it, and Juanna’s
long tresses, torn by it from their fastenings, streamed out behind her
like a veil.
Down they went, still down; half—two-thirds of the distance was done,
then he looked again and saw the horror that lay before them. Already
the bridge was narrow, barely the width of a small room; sixty yards
further on it tapered to so fine a point that their stone would almost
cover its breadth, and beneath it on either side yawned that unmeasured
gulf wherein Nam was lost with the jewels. Nor was this all, for at its
narrowest _the ice band was broken away for a space of ten or twelve
feet_, to continue on the further side of the gap for a few yards at a
somewhat lower level, and then run upwards at a steep incline to the
breast of snow where Otter sat in safety.
On they whizzed, ice beneath them and before them, and ice in Leonard’s
heart, for he was frozen with fear. His breath had left him because of
the rush of their progress, but his senses remained painfully acute.
Involuntarily he glanced over the edge of the stone, saw the sheer
depths below him, and found himself wondering what was the law that
kept their sledge upon this ribbon of ice, when it seemed so easy for
it to whirl off into space.
Now the gap was immediately in front of them. “God help us!” he
murmured, or rather thought, for there was no time for words, and they
had left the road of ice and were flying through the air as though the
stone which carried them were a living thing, that, seeing the peril,
had gathered up its energies and sprung forward for its life.
What happened? Leonard never knew for certain, and Otter swore that his
heart leaped from his bosom and stood in front of his eyes so that he
could not see. Before they touched the further point of ice—while they
were in the air, indeed—they, or rather Leonard, heard a hideous
scream, and felt a jerk so violent that his hold of the stone was
loosened, and it passed from beneath them. Then came a shock, less
heavy than might have been expected, and lo! they were spinning onwards
down the polished surface of the ice, while the stone which had borne
them so far sped on in front like a horse that has thrown its rider.
Leonard felt the rubbing of the ice burn him like hot iron. He felt
also that his ankle was freed from the hand that had held it, then for
some minutes he knew no more, for his senses left him. When they
returned, it was to hear the voice of Otter crying, “Lie still, lie
still, Baas, do not stir for your life; I come.”
Instantly he was wide awake, and, moving his head ever so little, saw
their situation. Then he wished that he had remained asleep, for it was
this:
The impetus of their rush had carried them almost to the line where the
ice stopped and the rock and snow began, within some fifteen feet of
it, indeed. But those fifteen feet were of the smoothest ice and very
sheer, so smooth and sheer that no man could hope to climb them. Below
them the slope continued for about thirteen or fourteen yards, till it
met the corresponding incline that led to the gap in the bridge.
On this surface of ice they were lying spread-eagled. For a moment
Leonard wondered how it was that they did not slide back to the bottom
of the slope, there to remain till they perished, for without ropes and
proper implements no human being could scale it. Then he saw that a
chance had befallen them, which in after-days he was wont to attribute
to the direct intervention of Providence.
It will be remembered that when they started, Leonard had pushed the
rock off with a spear which Olfan had given them. This spear he drew in
again as they began to move, placing it between his chest and the
stone, for he thought that it might be of service to him should they
succeed in crossing the gulf. When they were jerked from the sledge,
and left to slide along the ice on the further side of the gap, in
obedience to the impetus given to them by the frightful speed at which
they were travelling, the spear, obeying the same laws of motion,
accompanied them, but, being of a less specific gravity, lagged behind
in the race, just as the stone, which was heaviest, outstripped them.
As it happened, near the top of the rise there was a fissure in the
ice, and in this fissure the weapon had become fixed, its weighted
blade causing it to assume an upright position. When the senseless
bodies of Leonard and Juanna had slid as far up the slope as the
unexpended energy of their impetus would allow, naturally enough they
began to move back again in accordance with the laws of gravity. Then
it was, as luck would have it, that the spear, fixed in the crevice of
the ice, saved them from destruction; for it chanced that the descent
of their two forms, passing on either side of it, was checked by the
handle of the weapon, which caught the hide rope whereby they were
bound together.
All of this Leonard took in by degrees; also he discovered that Juanna
was either dead or senseless, at the time he could not tell which.
“What are you going to do?” he asked of Otter, who by now was on the
verge of the ice fifteen feet above them.
“Cut steps and pull you up, Baas,” answered the dwarf cheerfully.
“It will not be easy,” said Leonard, glancing over his shoulder at the
long slope beneath, “and if we slip or the rope breaks——”
“Do not talk of slipping, Baas,” replied Otter, as he began to hack at
the ice with the priest’s heavy knife, “and as for the rope, if it was
strong enough for the Water-Dweller to drag me round the pool by, it is
strong enough to hold you two, although it has seen some wear. I only
wish I had such another, for then this matter would be simple.”
Working furiously, Otter hacked at the hard surface of the ice. The
first two steps he hollowed from the top of the slope lying on his
stomach. After this difficulties presented themselves which seemed
insuperable, for he could not chip at the ice when he had nothing by
which to support himself.
“What is to be done now?” said Leonard.
“Keep cool, Baas, and give me time to think,” and for a moment Otter
squatted down and was silent.
“I have it,” he said presently, and rising he took off his goat-skin
cloak and cut it into strips, each strip measuring about two inches in
width by two feet six inches in length. These strips he knotted
together firmly, making a serviceable rope of them, long enough to
reach to where Leonard and Juanna were suspended on the stout handle of
the spear.
Then he took the stake which had already done him such good service,
and, sharpening its point, fixed it as deeply as he could into the snow
and earth on the border of the ice belt, and tied the skin rope to it.
“Now, Baas,” he said, “all is well, for I can begin from the bottom.”
And, without further words, he let himself down till he hung beside
them.
“Is the Shepherdess dead, Baas?” he asked, glancing at Juanna’s pale
face and closed eyes, “or does she only sleep?”
“I think that she is in a swoon,” answered Leonard; “but for heaven’s
sake be quick, Otter, for I am being frozen on this ice. What is your
plan now?”
“This, Baas: to tie about your middle the end of the rope that I have
made from the cloak, then to undo the cord that binds you and the
Shepherdess together, and return to the top of the slope. Once there I
can pull her up by the hide line, for it is strong, and she will slip
easily over the ice, and you can follow.”
“Good!” said Leonard.
Then hanging by one hand the dwarf managed, with such assistance as
Leonard could give him, to knot beneath Leonard’s arms the end of the
rope which he had constructed from the skin garment. Next he set to
work to untie the hide cord, thereby freeing him from Juanna. And now
came the most difficult and dangerous part of the task, for Leonard,
suspended from the shaft of the spear by one hand, must support
Juanna’s senseless form with the other, while Otter made shift to drag
himself to the summit of the ice, holding the hide line in his teeth.
The spear bent dreadfully, and Leonard did not dare to put any extra
strain upon the roughly fastened cord of goat-skin, by which the dwarf
was hauling himself up the ice, for if it gave they must all be
precipitated to the dip below, there to perish miserably. Faint and
frozen as he was, it seemed hours to him before Otter reached the top
and called to him to let go of Juanna.
Leonard obeyed, and seating himself on the snow, his feet supported by
the edge of the ice, the dwarf put out his strength and began to pull
her up. Strong as he was, it proved as much as he was able to do;
indeed, had Juanna lain on any other material than ice, he could not
have done it at all. But in the end he succeeded, and with a gasp of
gratitude Leonard saw her stretched safe upon the snow.
Now Otter, hastily undoing the cord from Juanna’s waist, made it into a
running noose which he threw down to Leonard, who placed it over his
shoulders. Having lifted the spear from the cleft in which it stood, he
commenced his ascent. His first movements cost him a pang of agony, and
no wonder, for the blood from wounds that had been caused by the
friction of his flesh as he was hurled along the surface of the slide,
had congealed, freezing his limbs to the ice, whence they could not
easily be loosened. The pain, sharp as it was, did him good, however,
for it aroused his benumbed energies and enabled him to drag on the
goat-skin cord with all his strength, while Otter tugged at that which
was beneath his arms.
Well for him was it that the dwarf had taken the precaution of throwing
down this second line, for presently Otter’s stake, which had no firm
hold in the frozen earth, came out and slid away, striking Leonard as
it passed and bearing the knotted lengths of the cloak with it. The
dwarf cried aloud and bent forward as though he were about to fall. By
a fearful effort he recovered himself and held fast the rope in his
hand, while Leonard, suspended by it, swung to and fro on the surface
of the ice like the pendulum of a clock.
Then followed the most terrible moments of all their struggle against
the difficulties of this merciless place. The dwarf held fast above,
and Leonard, ceasing to swing, lay with hands and legs outstretched on
the face of the ice.
“Now, Baas,” said Otter, “be brave, and when I pull, do you wriggle
forward.”
He tugged till the thin hide rope stretched, while Leonard clawed and
kicked at the ice with his toes, knees, and disengaged hand.
Alas! it gave no hold—he might as well have tried to climb a dome of
plate glass at an angle of sixty degrees.
“Rest awhile, Baas,” said the dwarf, whose breath was coming in great
sobs, “then make a little nick in the ice with the blade of the spear,
and when next I pull, try to set some of your weight upon it.”
Leonard did as he was bid without speaking.
“Now,” said the dwarf, and with a push and a struggle Leonard was two
feet higher up the incline. Again the process was repeated, and this
time he got his left hand into the lowest of the two steps that Otter
had hacked with the knife, and once more they paused for breath. A
third effort, the fiercest of them all, a clasping of hands, and he was
lying trembling like a frightened child above the glacier’s lip.
The ordeal was over, that danger was done with, but at what a cost!
Leonard’s nerves were completely shattered, he could not stand, his
face was bleeding, his nails were broken, and the bone of one knee was
exposed by the friction of the ice, to say nothing of the shock to the
system and the bruises which he had received when he was hurled from
the stone. Otter’s condition was a little better, but his hands were
cut by the rope and he was utterly exhausted with toil and the strain
of suspense. Indeed, of the three Juanna had come off by far the best,
for she swooned at the very beginning of the passage of the bridge, and
when they were jerked from the stone, being lighter than Leonard, she
had fallen upon him. Moreover, the thick goat-skin cloak which was
wrapped about her had protected her from all hurt beyond a few trifling
cuts and bruises. Of their horrible position when they were hanging to
the spear, and the rest of the adventure, including the death of Soa,
she knew nothing, and it was well for her reason that this was so.
“Otter,” murmured Leonard in a shaking voice, “have you lost that gourd
of spirit?”
“No, Baas, it is safe.”
“Thank Heaven!” he said; “hold it to my lips if you can.”
The dwarf lifted it with a trembling hand, and Leonard gulped down the
fiery liquor.
“That’s better,” he said; “take some yourself.”
“Nay, Baas, I have sworn to touch drink no more,” Otter answered,
looking at the gourd longingly; “besides you and the Shepherdess will
want it all. I have some food here and I will eat.”
“What happened to Soa, Otter?”
“I could not see rightly, Baas, I was too frightened, much more
frightened than I had been when I rode the stone myself; but I think
that her legs caught in the ice on this side of the hole, and so she
fell. It was a good end for her, the vicious old cow!” he added, with a
touch of satisfaction.
“It was very near being a bad end for us,” answered Leonard, “but we
have managed to come out of it alive somehow. Not for all the rubies in
the world would I cross that place again.”
“Nor I, Baas. _Wow!_ it was awful. Now my stomach went through my head,
and now my head went through my stomach, and the air was red and green
and blue, and devils shouted at me out of it. Yes, and when I came to
the hole, there I saw the Water-Dweller all fashioned in fire waiting
with an open mouth to eat me. It was the drink that made me think of
these things, Baas, and that is why I have sworn to touch it no more.
Yes, I swore it as I flew through the air and saw the flaming
Water-Dweller beneath me. And now, Baas, I am a little rested, so let
us try and wake up the Shepherdess, and get us gone.”
“Yes,” said Leonard, “though I am sure I do not know where we are to go
to. It can’t be far, for I am nearly spent.”
Then crawling to where Juanna lay wrapped in her cloak, Otter poured
some of the native spirit down her throat while Leonard rubbed her
hands. Presently this treatment produced its effect, for she sat up
with a start, and seeing the ice before her, began to shriek, saying,
“Take me away; I can’t do it, Leonard, I can’t indeed.”
“All right, dear,” he answered, “you have done it. We are over.”
“Oh!” she said, “I _am_ thankful. But where is Soa? I thought that I
heard her throw herself down behind us.”
“Soa is dead,” he answered. “She fell down the gulf and nearly pulled
us with her. I will tell you all about it afterwards; you are not fit
to hear it now. Come, dear, let us be going out of this accursed
place.”
Juanna staggered to her feet.
“I am so stiff and sore that I can hardly stand,” she said, “but,
Leonard, what is the matter with you? You are covered with blood.”
“I will tell you afterwards,” he replied again.
Then Otter collected their baggage, which consisted chiefly of the hide
line and the spear, and they crawled forward up the snow-slope. Some
twenty or thirty yards ahead of them, and almost side by side, lay the
two glacier stones on which they had passed the bridge, and near them
those which Otter had despatched as pioneers on the previous morning.
They looked at them wondering. Who could have believed that these inert
things, not an hour before, had been speeding down the icy way quicker
than any express train that ever travelled, and they with them?
One thing was certain: did they remain unbroken for another two or
three million years, and that is a short life for a stone, they would
never again make so strange a journey.
Then the three toiled on to the top of the snow-slope, which was about
four hundred yards away.
“Look, Baas,” said Otter, who had turned to gaze a fond farewell at the
gulf behind; “there are people yonder on the further side.”
He was right. On the far brink of the crevasse were the forms of men,
who seemed to be waving their arms in the air and shouting. But whether
these were the priests who, having overcome the resistance of Olfan,
had pursued the fugitives to kill them, or the soldiers of the king who
had conquered the priests, the distance would not allow them to see.
The fate of Olfan and the further domestic history of the People of the
Mist were now sealed books to them, for they never heard any more of
these matters, nor are they likely to do so.
Then the travellers began to descend from field to field of snow, the
great peak above alone remaining to remind them that they were near to
the country of the Mist. Once they stopped to eat a little of such food
as they had with them, and often enough to rest, for their strength was
small. Indeed, as they dragged themselves wearily forward, each of the
men holding Juanna by the hand, Leonard found himself wondering how it
came about, putting aside the bodily perils from which they had
escaped, that they had survived the exhaustion and the horrors,
physical and mental, of the last forty-eight hours.
But there they were still alive, though in a sorry plight, and before
evening they found themselves below the snow line in a warm and genial
climate.
“I must stop,” said Juanna as the sun began to set; “I can drag myself
no further.”
Leonard looked at Otter in despair.
“There is a big tree yonder, Baas,” said the dwarf with an attempt at
cheerfulness, “and water by it. It is a good place to camp, and here
the air is warm, we shall not suffer from cold. Nay, we are lucky
indeed; think how we passed last night.”
They reached the tree, and Juanna sank down half fainting against its
bole. With difficulty Leonard persuaded her to swallow a little meat
and a mouthful of spirit, and then, to his relief, she relapsed into a
condition which partook more of the nature of stupor than of sleep.