Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

“Sort o’ fancy,” he muttered; and, getting out a match, he struck it, after shutting the box with a snap, which again made him start, something like an echo rising from close at hand.

“Why, I’m as nervous as a great gal,” he muttered, as the tiny match burst into a bright flame which formed a bit of a halo about itself, and, stooping to bring the tiny clear light burning so brightly close to the surface, he took two steps forward, the ground at the second giving way beneath him, and at the same moment he uttered a wild shriek of horror, dashed the match from him, and threw himself backward on to the snow. For the tiny light had in that one brief moment revealed a horror to him which was a full explanation of the trouble, and as he lay trembling in every limb, his shriek was repeated from a short distance away, and then again and again rapidly, till it took the form of a wild burst of laughter.

“Get up, you coward!” growled Gedge the next minute, as he made a brave effort to master the terrible shock he had sustained, for he felt that he had been within an inch of following his officer to a horrible death.

The self-delivered charge of cowardice brought him to himself directly, and he sprang to his feet. Then, with fingers wet with a cold perspiration, and trembling as if with palsy, he dragged out his match-box, took out one of the tiny tapers, and essayed to light it, but only produced streaks of phosphorescent light, for he had taken the match out by the end, and his wet fingers had quenched its lighting powers.

With the next attempt he was more successful; and, setting aside all fear of being seen, he held out the flaming light, which burned without motion in the still air, and, holding it before him, stepped towards the edge of the snow, which ended suddenly in a black gulf, over which he was in the act of leaning, when once more he sprang back and listened, for the snow where he stood had given way, and as he remained motionless for a few moments, there suddenly came up from far below, a dull thud, followed by a strange whispering series of echoes as if off the face of some rocks beyond.

“Oh!” he groaned. “That’s it, then. It was down there he went; and he must be killed.”

It was one of the young soldier’s weak moments; but his life of late had taught him self-concentration and the necessity for action, and he recovered himself quickly. The trembling fit passed off, and he look out another match, lit it, stepped as near as he dared to the edge of the gulf, and then pitched the burning flame gently from him, seeing it go down out of sight; but nothing more, for the place was immense.

He lay down upon his breast now, and crawled in what seemed to be greater darkness, consequent upon the light he had burned having made his eyes contract, and worked himself so close that his hand was over the edge, a short distance to the left of where he had broken it away with his weight. Here he gathered up a handful of the frozen snow, threw it from him, and listened till a faint pattering sound came up.

His next act was to utter a shout, which came back at once, as if from a wall of rock, while other repetitions seemed to come from right and left. Then, raising his fingers to his mouth, he gave vent to a long, shrill whistle, which he repeated again and again, and then, with a strange stony sensation, he worked himself slowly back, feet foremost, at first very slowly, and then with frantic haste, as it suddenly dawned upon him that he was going uphill. For the snowy mass was sinking, and it was only just in time that he reached a firmer part, and lay quivering in the darkness, while he listened to a rushing sound, for his weight had started an immense cornice-like piece of the snow, which went down with a sullen roar.

“It’s no use while it’s like this,” groaned Gedge. “I can’t do nothing to help him till the day comes. I should on’y be chucking my own life away. I’d do it if it was any good; but it wouldn’t be no use to try, and I might p’raps find him if I could only see.”

He had risen to his knees now, and the position brought the words to his lips; the rough lad speaking, but with as perfect reverence as ever came from the lips of man:

“Oh, please, God, can’t you make the light come soon, and end this dreadful night?”

Poor, rough, rude Bill Gedge had covered his eyes as he softly whispered his prayer; and when he opened them again, it was to look upon no marvel greater than that grand old miracle which we, with leaden eyes sealed up, allow to pass away unheeded, unseen. It was but the beginning of another of the many days seen in a wild mountain land; for the watchings and tramps of the two adventurers had pretty well used up the hours of darkness; and, black though the snow lay where Bill Gedge knelt, right beyond, straight away upon the mighty peak overhead, there was a tiny point of glowing orange light, looking like the tip of some huge spear that was heated red-hot.

For the supplicant was gazing heavenward, and between the sky and his eyes there towered up one of the huge peaks of the Karakoram range, receiving the first touch of the coming day.

Chapter Thirty One

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.