Bracy had just come to this conclusion, and had begun to think of the wisdom of crawling off the snow, which was beginning to melt beneath him from the warmth of his body, when his heart gave a leap as if some nerve had received a sudden twitch. For there came low and clear from a short distance away a peculiar sound such as might be produced by a night-bird on the wing. Then all was still once more.

"Was that a signal?" thought Bracy; "or have we been deceived?"

He thought earnestly, and felt that, after all, the enemy would under the circumstances act just as they were acting. There seemed to be an excess of caution, but none too much, approaching as they would be to surprise whoever was on the watch, and going with their lives literally in their hands.

"Phit!"

The same low, peculiar sound again, making Bracy start into a wild fit of excitement. Then there was a quick running as of many feet towards the central spot, followed by clink, clink, clink—the striking of steel on stone, and then a momentary silence, followed by a peculiar rumbling and a burst of voices.

"Gug!"

Bracy turned sharply, bayonet in hand, ready to strike, for the horrible thought struck him that Gedge had just received a tierce thrust which pinned him to the frozen snow; but as he leaned in his direction a hand touched his wrist and gave it a grip, holding it tightly, and making him draw a deep breath full of relief.

Meanwhile the voices increased, their owners talking fiercely, and though the tongue was almost unintelligible, a word was caught here and there, and they grasped the fact that every man seemed to want to talk at once, and to be making suggestions.

But the speakers did not keep to one place. As far as Bracy could make out, they had broken up into parties, which hurried here and there, one coming so near to where the listeners lay that they felt that their time for action had come at last, and, palpitating with excitement, they prepared to meet the first attack.

And now Bracy heard a sound as of some one breathing hard, and turned his head sharply to whisper a word of warning to his companion; but it was not uttered, for the sound came from beyond him, and with its repetition came the sound of laborious steps being taken through the snow, he who made them panting hard with the exertion as he came on to within a couple of yards of Gedge, and then suddenly turned off and made for the rocks.

He made so much noise now that he knew there was no need for concealment, that Gedge took advantage of the man getting more distant to reach over to his officer and whisper, with his lips close to Bracy's ear:

"That chap 'll never know how near he was to leaving off snoring like that, sir, for good."

"Hush!" whispered Bracy, and a fresh burst of talking arose as if to greet the man who had returned to the rocks from making a circuit round the trap.

And now it seemed as if the whole party were spreading out and coming towards where the couple lay, for the voices sounded louder and came nearer, making Bracy gently raise himself ready to hurry his follower away: but the sounds came no closer, the speakers pausing at the edge of the snow, where it sounded as if their plans were; being discussed.

Then all at once the talking ceased, and the beat of many feet, with the rattling of loose stones, fell on the listener's ears, telling that the enemy was in motion; and the sounds they made grew fainter and fainter, and then died out entirely.

"They seem to be gone," whispered Bracy, with his lips close to Gedge's ear.

"Oh yes, they're gone, sir, at last," was the reply.

"We must not be too sure. A few may be left behind to keep watch."

"Not them, sir. I can't see as it's likely."

Bracy was silent for a few moments, during which he listened intently for the faintest sound; but all was still.

"Get up," he said briefly, and then started at his own voice, it sounded so husky and strange.

Gedge uttered a sigh of relief as he shook the adhering snow from his woolly coat.

"Stiff, Gedge?" said Bracy.

"Horrid, sir. A good fight wouldn't come amiss. Hear me laugh, sir?"

"When you made that sound?"

"Yes, sir: that bit would come out, though I'd shut my mouth with my hand."

"What made you laugh at such a time?"

"To hear them cuttin' and stabbin' at the rocks, sir, and blunting their knives."

"Oh, I see!"

"Wonder whether they chopped our 'elmets, sir. Would you mind ordering me to see if there's any bits left?"

"The task is of no good," said Bracy. "But we'll walk back to the place and try if we can find them. Take out your revolver. No. Fix bayonets—we could use them better now."

There was a faint clicking, and then, with their rifles levelled, the pair marched laboriously off the snow, and then cautiously felt their way among the stones, Bracy's main object being to find out for certain that there were no sentries left. The noise they could not help making among the stones proved this directly, and they unwittingly, in spite of the darkness, went straight to the spot where they had set up the sticks and helmets, when Gedge uttered a low cry full of excitement.

"Why, they never come across 'em, sir. I've got 'em, standing here just as we left 'em. Well, I'm blessed! I know the difference by the feel. That's yours, sir, and this is mine. Talk about luck! Ha! I feel better now. Woolly busbies is all very well, but they don't look soldierly. I could have made some right enough, but we should ha' wanted to take 'em off before we got back to the fort."

"A splendid bit of luck, Gedge," said Bracy as he drew the strap of his helmet beneath his chin. "Now for our next step. What do you think?"

"Wittles, sir. Can't think o' nothing else just now. I should say, with what we've got to do, the next thing's to begin stoking before our fires go out."



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

AWFUL MOMENTS.

It was with serious feelings of compunction that Bracy set this example to his eager companion, by seating himself on one of the stones and beginning to combat the weary sensation of faintness which troubled him by partaking of a portion of his fast-shrinking store of provisions. For the fact was beginning to stare him in the face that, going on as they had begun, their little store could not by any possibility last, till they reached the Ghoorkha camp, and that in depending upon their rifles for a fresh supply they would be leaning upon a very rotten reed, since, surrounded as they seemed to be by enemies, it would be impossible to fire, while everything in the shape of game had so far been absent. But his spirits rose as he refreshed himself.

"I will not build imaginary mountains," he said mentally; "there are plenty about us at last."

"There, sir," said Gedge, breaking in upon his musings suddenly; "I'm ready for anything now. I should like to lie down and have a good sleep; but I s'pose we mustn't do that."

"Not till we have crossed that ridge up to the north, Gedge. It will be hard work, but it must be done."

"And get into the valley on the other side, sir, 'fore we go on east'ard?"

"Yes."

"S'pose there'll be a valley t'other side, sir?"

"No doubt about it."

"Then, when you're ready, sir, I am. If we've got it to do, let's begin and get this soft bit over, for we shan't get along very fast."

"No; the soft snow makes the travelling bad; but we go higher at every step, and by-and-by we may find it hard. Now then, I'll lead. The ridge must be right before us, as far as I can make out."

"Don't ask me, sir," said Gedge. "Wants a cat to see in the dark; but I think you must be right. Best way seems to me to keep on going uphill. That must be right, and when it's flat or going downhill it must be wrong."

Bracy made no reply, but, after judging the direction as well as he could, strode off, and found that his ideas were right, for at the end of a few minutes the snow was crackling under their feet.

"Now for it, Gedge. You'll have to lift your feet high at every step, while they sink so deeply. Hullo!"

There was a sharp crackling as he extended his left foot, bore down upon it, and with a good deal of resistance it went through a crust of ice, but only a short way above the ankle. Quickly bringing up the other foot, he stepped forward, and it crushed through the hardening surface, but only for a few inches. The next step was on the rugged surface of slippery ice, and as they progressed slowly for about a hundred yards, it was to find the surface grow firmer and less disposed to give beneath their weight.

"There's one difficulty mastered," said Bracy cheerily. "The surface is freezing hard, and we can get on like this till the sun beats upon it again."

"I call it grand, sir; but I hope it won't get to be more uphill."

"Why?"

"Because if we makes one slip we shall go skating down to the bottom of the slope again in double-quick time. I feel a'ready as if I ought to go to the blacksmith's to get roughed."

"Stamp your feet down if you are disposed to slip, my lad. I do not want to do this, but if the slope grows steeper we must fix bayonets and use them to steady us."

"Take the edge off on 'em, sir."

"Yes; but we must get across the ridge. Forward."

They toiled on, the task growing heavier as they progressed, for the gradient became steeper, and they halted from time to time for a rest, the plan of using the bayonets being kept for a last resource. But there were compensations to make up for the severity of the toil, one of which was expressed by the travellers at one of the halts.

"Makes one feel jolly comf'table and warm, sir."

"Yes; and takes away all doubt of our going in the right direction, for we must be right."

"I didn't think we was at first, sir. 'Tain't so dark neither."

"No: we are getting higher, and the snow and ice are all round us. Now then, forward!"

Crunch, squeak, crunch went the snow as they tramped steadily, with the surface curving slowly upward, till all at once there was a slip, a thud, and a scramble, Gedge was down, and he began to glide, but checked himself with the butt of his rifle.

"I'm all right, sir; but I was on the go," he said, panting.

"Hurt?" replied Bracy laconically.

"Not a bit, six. Knocked some o' the wind out o' me, but I'm all right again now."

"Forward!"

Bracy led on again, to find that the curve made by the snowfield rose more and more steeply, and the inclination to slip increased. But he stamped his feet down as he kept on, with his breathing growing quicker, and had the satisfaction of hearing his follower imitate his example, till he began to find that he must soon make another halt.

His spirits were rising, however, with an increasing hopeful feeling, for this was evidently the way to avoid pursuit or check. They were on the ice, and to this they must trust for the rest of their journey till they were well within reach of the Ghil Valley, to which they must descend.

Slip.

In an instant Bracy was down, starting on a rapid descent toward the place they had left; but at his first rush he heard beneath him a sharp blow delivered in the glazed surface, and he was suddenly brought up by the body of Gedge.

"Hold tight, sir! All right. I've got something to anchor us."

"Ha!" ejaculated Bracy breathlessly. "It was so sudden."

"Yes, sir; don't give you much time to think. You'd better do as I do."

"What's that?"

"Keep your bay'net in your hand ready to dig down into the ice. Stopped me d'reckly, and that stopped you."

"Yes, I'll do so. A minute's rest, and then we'll go on again."

"Make it two, sir. You sound as if you haven't got your wind back."

"I shall be all right directly, my lad. This is grand. I hope by daylight that we shall be in safety."

"That's right, sir. My! shouldn't I have liked this when I was a youngster! Think we shall come back this way?"

"Possibly," said Bracy.

"Be easy travelling, sir. Why, we could sit down on our heels and skim along on the nails of our boots, with nothing to do but steer."

"Don't talk, my lad," said Bracy. "Now, forward once more."

The journey was continued, and grew so laborious at last from the smoothness of the ice, which increased as the gradient grew heavier—the melted snow having run and made the surface more compact during the sunny noon; and at the end of another couple of hours the difficulty of getting on and up was so great that Bracy changed his course a little so as to lessen the ascent by taking it diagonally.

This made matters a little better, and tramp, tramp, they went on and on, rising more swiftly than they knew, and little incommoded now by the darkness, for the stars were shining out through the cloudy mist which hung over the slope, while their spirits seemed to rise with the ascent.

"Have we passed the rocks along which we saw that body of men moving?" said Bracy at last.

"I s'pose not, sir, or we must have felt 'em. They must have been a long way off when we saw 'em going along."

"Yes; the distances are very deceptive, and—Ah! stones, rocks. Here is the rough track at last."

They halted again, for by walking here and there they could make out that there was a rough track to right and left, comparatively free from snow, and if this were followed to the right there would be travelling which would necessitate their waiting for daylight, since it was all in and out among huge masses of stone.

"We couldn't get along here, sir, very fast," said Gedge after making a few essays.

"No, it is impossible now," replied Bracy. "It would be a dangerous way, too, for it must, as we saw, cut the valley when; the enemy will come out."

He stood looking back and around him, to see that the darkness was lightened by the strange faint glare from the ice and snow around him; then, turning, he crossed the ridge of broken rocks and tried what the slope seemed like upon the other side, to find that it was a continuation of that up which they had toiled, and apparently much the same, the gradual curve upward to the mountain being cut by this band of rocks.

"Forward again, Gedge," he cried. "This must be right, for we are getting a trifle nearer to our journey's end, and more out of reach of our pursuers."

"Then it is right, sir; but I suppose we shall get a bit o' downhill some time."

They tramped on for the next hour, but not without making several halts, three of which were involuntary, and caused by more or less sudden slips. These were saved from being serious by the quick action of driving dagger-like the bayonet each carried into the frozen snow; and after repetitions of this the falls seemed to lose; their risky character, the man who went down scrambling to his feet again the next instant and being ready to proceed. The still air was piercingly cold, but it only seemed to make their blood thrill in their veins, and a sense of exhilaration arose from the warm glow which pervaded them, and temptingly suggested the removal of their woollen poshtins. But the temptation was forced back, and the tramp continued hour after hour up what seemed to be an interminable slope, while fatigue was persistently ignored.

At last, though, Bracy was brought to a halt, and he stood panting.

"Anything wrong, sir?" whispered Gedge hoarsely.

"No; only that I can get no farther in this way. We must fix bayonets, and use our rifles as staves."

"Right, sir."

"Be careful not to force your barrel down too far, so as to get it plugged with the snow," said Bracy; and then, as soon as the keen-pointed weapons were fixed, he started onward again, the rifles answering this new purpose admirably, and giving a steadiness to the progress that had before been wanting.

Consequently far better progress was made for the next half-hour, with much less exertion, and Bracy made up his mind that the first patch of pines they came to on the lower ground should supply them with a couple of saplings whose poles should have the bayonets fixed or bound upon them, so as to take the place of the rifles.

"I'm longing for the daylight, Gedge," said Bracy suddenly, for they had plunged into a mist which obscured the stars, "so that we can see better in which direction to go, for we ought to be high enough now to be safe from—Ha!"

Then silence.

"Safe from what, sir?" said Gedge, stopping short.

There was no reply, and after waiting a few seconds, feeling alarmed, the lad spoke again.

"Didn't quite hear what you said, sir; safe from what?"

There was no reply, and Gedge suddenly turned frantic.

"Mr Bracy, sir," he said hoarsely, and then, raising his voice, he called his officer by name again and again; but the same terrible darkness and silence reigned together, and he grew maddened now.

"Oh Lor'!" he cried, "what's come to him?" and he went upon his hands and knees to crawl and feel about. "He's gone down in a fit, and slipped sudden right away; for he ain't here. He's half-way down the mountain by now, and I don't know which way to go and help him, and— Ah!" he shrieked wildly, and threw himself over backwards, to begin rolling and sliding swiftly back in the way he had come, his rifle escaping from his grasp.



CHAPTER THIRTY.

A PRAYER FOR LIGHT.

Gedge glided rapidly down the icy slope for a good fifty yards in the darkness, with the pace increasing, before he was able to turn on his back and check himself by forcing his heels into the frozen snow.

"And my rifle gone—where I shall never find it again," was his first thought, as he forced back his helmet, which had been driven over his eyes: but, just as the thought was grasped, he was conscious of a scratching, scraping noise approaching, and he had just time to fling out his hands and catch his weapon, the effort, however, sending him gliding down again, this time to check himself by bringing the point of the bayonet to bear upon the snow. And now stopped, he lay motionless for a few moments.

"Mustn't be in a flurry," he panted, with his heart beating violently, "or I shan't find the gov'nor, and I must find him. I will find him, pore chap. Want to think it out cool like, and I'm as hot as if I'd been runnin' a mile. Now then; he's gone down, and he must ha' gone strite down here, so if I lets myself slither gently I'm sure to come upon him, for I shall be pulled up same as he'd be."

He lay panting, still, for a few minutes, and his thinking powers, which had been upset by the suddenness of the scare, began to settle themselves again. Then he listened as he went on, putting, as he mentally termed it, that and that together.

"Can't hear nothing of him," he said to himself. "He must have gone down with a rush 'stead o' falling in a fit as I thought fust; but it ain't like a fall. He wouldn't smash hisself, on'y rub some skin off, and he'll be hollering to me d'reckly from somewheres below. Oh dear! if it only warn't so precious dark I might see him: but there ain't no moon, and no stars now, and it's no use to light a match. I say, why don't he holler?—I could hear him a mile away—or use his whistle? He'd know that would bring me, and be safer than shouting. But I can't hear nothing on him. Here: I know."

Gedge rose to his feet and drove his bayonet into the snow to steady himself, without turning either to the right or the left.

"Mustn't change front," he said, "or I may go sliding down wrong and pass him," he thought. Then raising his hand, he thrust two fingers into his mouth and produced a long drawn whistle, which was a near imitation of that which would be blown by an officer to bring his men together to rally round him and form square.

"That ought to wake him up," he thought. "He'd hear that if he was miles away."

There was a faint reply which made his heart leap; and thrusting his fingers between his lips, he whistled again in a peculiar way, with the result that the sound came back as before, and Gedge's heart sank with something akin to despair.

"'Tain't him," he groaned. "It's them blessed eckers. I'll make sure, though."

He stood listening for some minutes, and then, with his heart feeling like lead, took off his helmet and wiped his dripping brow.

"Oh dear!" he groaned; "ain't it dark! Reg'lar fog, and cold as cold. Makes a chap shiver. I dunno how it is. When I'm along with him I feel as bold as a lion. I ain't afeared o' anything. I'd foller him anywheres, and face as many as he'd lead me agen. 'Tain't braggin', for I've done it; but I'm blessed now if I don't feel a reg'lar mouse—a poor, shiverin' wet mouse with his back up, and ready to die o' fright through being caught in a trap, just as the poor little beggars do, and turns it up without being hurt a bit. I can't help it; I'm a beastly coward; and I says it out aloud for any one to bear. That's it—a cussed coward, and I can't help it, 'cause I was born so. He's gone, and I shan't never find him agen, and there's nothing left for me to do but sneak back to the fort, and tell the Colonel as we did try, but luck was agen us.

"Nay, I won't," he muttered. "I'll never show my face there again, even if they call it desertion, unless I can get to the Ghoorkha Colonel and tell him to bring up his toothpick brigade.

"Oh, here, I say, Bill, old man," he said aloud after a pause, during which he listened in vain for some signal from his officer, "this here won't do. This ain't acting like a sojer o' the Queen. Standin' still here till yer get yerself froze inter a pillar o' salt. You've got to fetch your orficer just as much now as if if hailed bullets and bits o' rusty ragged iron. Here goes. Pull yourself together, old man! Yer wanted to have a slide, so now's your time."

Grasping his rifle, he squatted down on his heels, and laid the weapon across his knees preparatory to setting himself in motion, on the faint chance of gliding down to where Bracy would have gone before him.

"Would you have thought it so steep that he could have slithered away like that? But there it is," he muttered. "Now then, here goes." Letting himself go, he began to glide slowly upon his well-nailed shoes; then the speed increased, and he would the next minute have been rushing rapidly down the slope had he not driven in his heels and stopped himself.

"Well, one can put on the brake when one likes," he muttered; "but he couldn't ha' gone like this or I should have heard him making just the same sort o' noise. He had no time to sit down; he must ha' gone on his side or his back, heads up or heads down, and not so very fast. If I go down like this I shall be flying by him, and p'raps never stop till I get to the end of the snow. I know—I'll lie down."

Throwing himself over on his side, he gave a thrust with his hands and began to glide, but very slowly, and in a few seconds the wool of his poshtin adhered so firmly to the smooth surface that he was brought up and had to start himself again.

This took place twice, and he slowly rose to his feet.

"Wants a good start," he muttered, and he was about to throw himself down when a fresh thought crossed his brain.

"I don't care," he said aloud, as if addressing some one who had spoken; "think what yer like, I ain't afraid to pitch myself down and go skidding to the bottom, and get up with all the skin off! I sez he ain't down there. I never heerd him go, and there's something more than I knows on. It is a fit, and he's lying up yonder. Bill Gedge, lad, you're a-going wrong."

He stood trying to pierce the thickening mist, looking as nearly as he could judge straight upward in the course they had taken, and was about to start: but, not satisfied, he took out his match-box, struck a light, and, holding it down, sought for the marks made by the bayonets in the climb. But there was no sign where he stood, neither was there to his left; and, taking a few paces to the right, with the rapidly-burning match close to the snow, the flame was just reaching his fingers when he uttered a sigh of satisfaction: for, as the light had to be dropped, there, one after the other, he saw two marks in the freshly-chipped snow glistening in the faint light. Keeping their direction fresh in his mind, he stalled upward on his search.

"How far did I come down?" he said to himself. "I reckon 'bout a hundred yards. Say 'undred and twenty steps."

He went on taking the hundred and twenty paces, and then he stopped short.

"Must be close here somewhere," he muttered; and he paused to listen, but there was not a sound.

"Nobody couldn't hear me up here," he thought, and he called his companion by name, to rouse up strange echoes from close at hand; and when he changed to whistling, the echoes were sudden and startling in the extreme.

"It's rum," said Gedge. "He was just in front of me, one minute talking to me, and then 'Ha!' he says, and he was gone."

Gedge took off his helmet, and wiped his wet brow again before replacing it.

"Ugh, you idjit!" he muttered. "You were right at first. He dropped down in a sort o' fit from overdoing it—one as took him all at wunst, and he's lying somewheres about fast asleep, as people goes off in the snow and never wakes again. He's lying close by here somewheres, and you ought to have done fust what you're going to do last.

"Mustn't forget where I left you," he muttered as he gave a dig down with his rifle, driving the bayonet into the snow, and sending some scraps flying with a curious whispering noise which startled him.

"What does that mean?" he said, and he caught at the butt of his piece, now sticking upward in the snow, but dropped his hand again to his pocket and again took out his match-box.

"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.

The sun was now above the horizon, lighting up the diversified scene at the foot of the mountain, and away along the valleys spreading to right and left; but for some time he could make out nothing save a few specks in the far distance, which might have been men, or a flock of some creatures pasturing on the green valley-side, miles beyond the termination of the snow-slope up which they had climbed. He made out, too, the continuation of the stony track leading to the head of the valley, and along which the party of tribes-men had been seen to pass; but there was apparently nothing there, and Gedge drew a breath full of relief as he felt how safe they were, and beyond the reach of the enemy.

Then, turning to the gulf again, he went as near as he dared to the edge, and stood listening to a dull sound, which was frequently repeated, and was followed by a low rushing noise, which kept gathering in force till it was like a heavy rush, and then dying away.

"What's he doing?" muttered Gedge. "Sounds like digging. That's it; he's been buried alive; and he's hard at work trying to dig himself out of the snow with his bayonet stuck at the end of his rifle. Well, good luck to him. Wonder where he'll come up first."

Gedge watched the cornice-like edge of the snowfield as the sounds as of some one feebly digging went on; but he could gain no further hint of what was going on, and at last his excitement proved too much for him, and he once more began to creep towards the edge of the snow, getting so far without accident this time that he could form an idea of what must be the depth from seeing far down the grey face of the wall of rock, certainly four or five hundred feet, but no bottom.

"He couldn't have fallen all that way," he said to himself. "It must go down with a slope on this side."

A sharp crack warned him that he was in danger, and he forced himself back on to firm snow, receiving another warning of the peril to which he had exposed himself, for a portion many feet square went down with a hissing rush, to which he stood listening till all was still once more.

Suddenly he jumped back farther, for from somewhere higher up there was a heavy report as of a cannon, followed by a loud echoing roar, and, gazing upward over a shoulder of the mountain, he had a good view of what seemed to be a waterfall plunging over a rock, to disappear afterwards behind a buttress-like mass of rock and ice. This was followed by another roar, and another, before all was still again.

"Must be ice and snow," he said to himself; "can't be water."

Gedge was right; for he had been gazing up at an ice-fall, whose drops were blocks and masses of ice diminished into dust by the great distance, and probably being formed of thousands of tons.

"Bad to have been climbing up there," he muttered, and he shrank a little farther away from the edge of the great chasm. "It's precious horrid being all among this ice and snow. It sets me thinking, as it always does when I've nothing to do.—If I could only do something to help him, instead of standing here.—Oh, I say," he cried wildly, "look at that!"

He had been listening to the regular dull dig, dig, dig, going on below the cornice, and to the faint rushing sound, as of snow falling, thinking deeply of his own helplessness the while, wondering too, for the twentieth time, where Bracy would appear, when, to his intense astonishment, he saw a bayonet dart through the snow into daylight about twenty feet back from the edge of the great gulf.

The blade disappeared again directly, and reappeared rapidly two or three times as he ran towards the spot, and then hesitated, for it was dangerous to approach the hole growing in the snow, the direction of the thrusts made being various, and the risk was that the weapon might be darted into the looker-on. Gedge stood then as near as he dared go, watching the progress made by the miner, and seeing the hole rapidly increase in size as the surface crumbled in.

Then all at once Gedge's heart seemed to leap towards his mouth, for there was a sudden eddy of the loose snow, as if some one were struggling, the bayonet, followed by the rifle, was thrust out into daylight, held by a pair of hands which sought to force it crosswise over the mouth of the hole, and the next instant the watcher saw why. For the caked snow from the opening to the edge of the gulf, and for many yards on either side, was slowly sinking; while, starting from the hole in two opposite directions, and keeping parallel with the edge; of the cornice, a couple of cracks appeared, looking like dark jagged lines.

It was a matter of but a few moments. Gedge had had his lessons regarding the curving-over snow, and knew the danger, which gave him the apt promptitude necessary for action in the terrible peril.

Dropping his own rifle on the ice, he sprang forward, stooped, and, quick as a flash, caught hold of the barrel of the rifle lying on the surface just below the hilt of the bayonet. Then throwing himself back with all the force he could command, he literally jerked Bracy out from where he lay buried in the loose snow and drew him several yards rapidly over the smooth surface. The long lines were opening out and gaping the while, and he had hardly drawn his officer clear before there was a soft, dull report, and a rush, tons of the cornice having been undermined where it hung to the edge of the icefield, and now went downward with a hissing sound, which was followed by a dull roar.

"Ah-h-h!" groaned Gedge, and he dropped down upon his knees beside the prostrate snowy figure, jerked his hands towards his face, and then fell over sidewise, to lie motionless with his eyes fast closed.

When he opened them again it was to see Bracy kneeling by his side and bending over him, the young officer's countenance looking blue and swollen, while his voice when he spoke sounded husky and faint.

"Are you better now?" he said.

"Better!" replied Gedge hoarsely as he stared confusedly at the speaker. "Ain't been ill agen, have I! Here, what yer been doing to make my head ache like this here? I—I—I d' know. Something's buzzing, and my head's going round. Some one's been giving me—Oh, Mr Bracy, sir! I remember now. Do tell me, sir; are yer all right?"

"Yes, nearly," replied the young officer, with a weary smile. "Twisted my ankle badly, and I'm faint and sick. I can't talk."

"Course not, sir; but you're all right again now. You want something to eat. I say, sir, did you finish your rations?"

"No; they're here in my haversack. You can take a part if you want some."

"Me, sir? I've got plenty. Ain't had nothing since when we had our feed together. I ain't touched nothing."

"Eat, then; you must want food."

"Yes, I am a bit peckish, sir, I s'pose; but I can't eat 'less you do."

Bracy smiled faintly, and began to open his snow-covered haversack, taking from it a piece of hard cake, which he began to eat very slowly, looking hard and strange of manner, a fact which did not escape Gedge's eyes; but the latter said nothing, opened his canvas bag with trembling hands, and began to eat in a hurried, excited way, but soon left off.

"Don't feel like eating no more, sir," he said huskily. "Can't for thinking about how you got on. Don't say nothing till you feel well enough, sir. I can see that you're reg'lar upset. Ain't got froze, have you—hands or feet?"

"No, no," said Bracy slowly, speaking like one suffering from some terrible shock. "I did not feel the cold so much. There, I am coming round, my lad, and I can't quite grasp yet that I am sitting here alive in the sunshine. I'm stunned. It is as if I were still in that horrible dream-like time of being face to face with death. Ha! how good it is to feel the sun once more!"

"Yes, sir; capital, sir," said Gedge more cheerfully. "Quite puzzling to think its all ice and snow about us. Shines up quite warm; 'most as warm as it shines down."

"Ha!" sighed Bracy; "it sends life into me again."

He closed his eyes, and seemed to be drinking in the warm glow, which was increasing fast, giving colour to the magnificent view around. But after a few minutes, during which Gedge sat munching slowly and gazing anxiously in the strangely swollen and discoloured face, the eyes were reopened, to meet those of Gedge, who pretended to be looking another way.

The sun's warmth was working wonders, and shortly after Bracy's voice sounded stronger as he said quietly:

"It would have been hard if I had been carried back by the snow at the last, Gedge."

"Hard, sir? Horrid."

"It turned you sick afterwards—the narrow escape I had."

"Dreadful, sir. I was as bad as a gal. I'm a poor sort o' thing sometimes, sir. But don't you talk till you feel all right, sir."

"I am beginning to feel as if talking will do me good and spur me back into being more myself."

"Think so, sir? Well, you know best, sir."

"I think so," said Bracy quietly; "but I shall not be right till I have had a few hours' sleep."

"Look here, then, sir; you lie down in the sun here on my poshtin. I'll keep watch."

"No! no! Not till night. There, I am getting my strength back. I was completely stunned, Gedge, and I have been acting like a man walking in his sleep."

Gedge kept glancing at his officer furtively, and there was an anxious look in his eyes as he said to himself:

"He's like a fellow going to have a touch of fever. Bit wandering-like, poor chap! I know what's wrong. I'll ask him."

He did not ask at once, though, for he saw that Bracy was eating the piece of cake with better appetite, breaking off scraps more frequently; while the food, simple as it was, seemed to have a wonderfully reviving effect, and he turned at last to his companion.

"You are not eating, my lad," he said, smiling faintly. "Come, you know what you have said to me."

"Oh, I'm all right again now, sir; I'm only keeping time with you. There. Dry bread-cake ain't bad, sir, up here in the mountains, when you're hungry. Hurt your head a bit—didn't you, sir?"

"No, no," said Bracy more firmly. "My right ankle; that is all. How horribly sudden it was!"

"Awful, sir; but don't you talk."

"I must now; it does me good, horrible as it all was; but, as I tell you, I was stunned mentally and bodily, to a great extent. I must have dropped a great distance into the soft snow upon a slope, and I was a long time before I could get rid of the feeling of being suffocated. I was quite buried, I suppose; but at last, in a misty way, I seemed to be breathing the cold air in great draughts as I lay on the snow, holding fast to my rifle, which somehow seemed to be the one hope I had of getting back to you."

"You did a lot of good with it, sir."

"Did I?"

"Course you did, sir. Digging through the snow."

"Oh yes, I remember now," said Bracy, with a sigh. "Yes, I remember having some idea that the snow hung above me like some enormous wave curling right over before it broke, and then becoming frozen hard. Then I remember feeling that I was like one of the rabbits in the sandhills at home, burrowing away to make a hole to get to the surface, and as fast as I got the sand down from above me I kept on kicking it out with my feet, and it slid away far below with a dull, hissing sound."

"Yes, sir, I heard it; but that was this morning. How did you get on in the night, after you began to breathe again? You couldn't ha' been buried long, or you'd ha' been quite smothered."

"Of course," said Bracy rather vacantly—"in the night?"

"Yes; didn't you hear me hollering?"

"No."

"When you were gone all in a moment I thought you'd slipped and gone sliding down like them chaps do the tobogganing, sir."

"You did call to me, then?"

"Call, sir? I expect that made me so hoarse this morning."

"I did not hear you till I whistled and you answered, not long ago."

"Why, I whistled too, sir, lots o' times, and nigh went mad with thinking about you."

"Thank you, Gedge," said Bracy quietly, and he held out his hand and gripped his companion's warmly. "I give you a great deal of trouble."

"Trouble, sir? Hark at you! That ain't trouble. But after you got out of the snow?"

"After I got out of the snow?"

"Yus, sir; you was there all night."

"Was I? Yes, I suppose so. I must have been. But I don't know much. It was all darkness and snow, and—oh yes, I remember now! I did not dare to move much, because whenever I did stir I began to glide down as if I were going on for ever."

"But don't you remember, sir, any more than that?"

"No," said Bracy, speaking with greater animation now. "As I told you, I must have been stunned by my terrible fall, and that saved me from a time of agony that would have driven me mad. As soon as it was light I must have begun moving in a mechanical way to try and escape from that terrible death-trap: but all that has been dream-like, and—and I feel as if I were still in a kind of nightmare. I am quite faint, too, and giddy with pain. Yes, I must lie down here in the sunshine for a bit. Don't let me sleep long if I drop off."

"No, sir; I won't, sir," replied Gedge, as Bracy sank to his elbow and then subsided with a restful sigh, lying prone upon the snow.

"He's fainted! No, he ain't; he's going right off to sleep. Not let him sleep long? Yes, I will; I must, poor chap! It's knocked half the sense out of him, just when he was done up, too. Not sleep? Why, that's the doctor as'll pull him round. All right, sir; you're going to have my sheepskin too, and you ain't going to be called till the sun's going down, and after that we shall see."

Ten minutes later Bracy was sleeping, carefully wrapped in Gedge's poshtin, while the latter was eating heartily of the remains of his rations.

"And he might ha' been dead, and me left alone!" said Gedge, speaking to himself. "My! how soon things change! Shall I have a bit more, or shan't I! Yes; I can't put my greatcoat on outside, so I must put some extra lining in."



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

ONLY HUMAN.

As the sun gathered force in rising higher, a thin veil of snow was melted from off a broad patch of rock, which dried rapidly; and, after a little consideration, Gedge went to Bracy's shoulders, took fast hold of his poshtin, and drew him softly and quickly off the icy surface right on to the warm, dry rock, the young officer's eyes opening widely in transit, and then closing again without their owner becoming conscious, but, as his head was gently lowered down again upon its sheepskin pillow, the deep sleep of exhaustion went on.

"Needn't ha' been 'fraid o' waking you," said Gedge softly, and looking down at the sleeper as if proud of his work.—"There, you'll be dry and warm as a toast, and won't wake up lying in a pond o' water.—Now I'll just have a look round, and then sit down and wait till he wakes."

Gedge took his good look round, making use of Bracy's glass, and in two places made out bodies of white-coated men whose weapons glinted in the sun shine; but they were far away, and in hollows among the hills.

"That's all I can make out," said Gedge, closing the glass and replacing it softly in the case slung from Bracy's shoulders; "but there's holes and cracks and all sorts o' places where any number more may be. Blest if I don't think all the country must have heard that we're going for help, and turned out to stop us. My! how easy it all looked when we started! Just a long walk and a little dodging the niggers, and the job done. One never thought o' climbing up here and skating down, and have a launching in the snow."

Gedge yawned tremendously, and being now in excellent spirits and contentment with himself, he chuckled softly.

"That was a good one," he said. "What a mouth I've got! I say, though, my lad, mouths have to be filled, and there ain't much left. We were going, I thought, to shoot pheasants, and kill a sheep now and then, to make a fire and have roast bird one day, leg o' mutton the next, and cold meat when we was obliged; but seems to me that it was all cooking your roast chickens before they was hatched. Fancy lighting a fire anywhere! Why, it would bring a swarm of the beauties round to carve us up instead of the wittles; and as to prog, why, I ain't seen nothing but that one bear. Don't seem to hanker after bear," continued Gedge after a few minutes' musing, during which he made sure that Bracy was sleeping comfortably. "Bears outer the 'Logical Gardens, nicely fatted up on buns, might be nice, and there'd be plenty o' nice fresh bear's grease for one's 'air; but these here wild bears in the mountains must feed theirselves on young niggers and their mothers, and it'd be like being a sort o' second-hand cannibal to cook and eat one of the hairy brutes. No, thanky; not this time, sir. I'll wait for the pudden."

Human nature is human nature, which nobody can deny; and, uncultivated save in military matters, and rough as he was, Bill Gedge was as human as he could be. He had just had a tremendous tramp for a whole day, a sleepless night of terrible excitement and care, a sudden respite from anxiety, a meal, and the glow of a hot sun upon a patch of rock which sent a genial thrill of comfort through his whole frame. These were the difficulties which were weighing hard in one of the scales of the young private's constitution, while he was doing his best to weigh down the other scale with duty, principle, and a manly, honest feeling of liking for the officer whom he had set up from the first moment of being attached to the company as the model of what a soldier should be. It was hard work. Those yawns came again and again, increasing in violence.

"Well done, boa-constructor," he said. "Little more practice, and you'll be able to swallow something as big as yourself; but my! don't it stretch the corners of your mouth! I want a bit o' bear's grease ready to rub in, for they're safe to crack.

"My! how sleepy I am!" he muttered a little later. "I ain't been put on sentry-go, but it's just the same, and a chap as goes to sleep in the face of the enemy ought to be shot. Sarve him right, too, for not keeping a good lookout. Might mean all his mates being cut up. Oh! I say, this here won't do," he cried, springing up. "Let's have a hoky-poky penny ice, free, grashus, for nothing."

He went off on tiptoe, glancing at Bracy as he passed, and then stooped down over a patch of glittering snow, scraping up a handful and straightening himself in the sunshine, as he amused himself by addressing an imaginary personage.

"Say, gov'nor," he cried, "you've got a bigger stock than you'll get shut of to-day.—Eh? You don't expect to? Right you are, old man. Break yer barrer if yer tried to carry it away. Say; looks cleaner and nicer to-day without any o' that red or yeller paint mixed up with it. I like it best when it's white. Looks more icy.—What say? Spoon? No, thank ye. Your customers is too fond o' sucking the spoons, and I never see you wash 'em after.—Ha! this is prime. Beats Whitechapel all to fits; and it's real cold, too. I don't care about it when it's beginning to melt and got so much juist.—But I say! Come! Fair play's a jewel. One likes a man to make his profit and be 'conimycal with the sugar, but you ain't put none in this.

"Never mind," he added after a pause, during which the Italian ice-vendor faded out of his imagination; "it's reg'lar 'freshing when you're so sleepy. Wonder what made them Italians come to London and start selling that stuff o' theirs. Seems rum; ours don't seem a country for that sort o' thing. Baked taters seems so much more English, and does a chap so much more good."

He walked back to the warm patch of rock, looked at Bracy, and then placed both rifles and bayonets ready, sat down cross-legged, and after withdrawing the cartridges, set to work with an oily rag to remove all traces of rust, and gave each in turn a good polish, ending by carefully wiping the bayonets after unfixing them, and returning them to their sheaths, handling Bracy's most carefully, for fear of disturbing the sleeper. This done, he began to yawn again, and, as he expressed it, took another penny ice and nodding at vacancy, which he filled with a peripatetic vendor, he said:

"All right, gov'nor; got no small change. Pay next time I come this way."

Then he marked out a beat, and began marching up and down.

"Bah!" he cried; "that ice only makes you feel dry and thirsty.—My! how sleepy I am!—Here, steady!" he cried, as he yawned horribly; "you'll have your head right off, old man, if you do that.—Never was so sleepy in my life."

He marched up and down a little faster—ten paces and turn—ten paces and turn—up and down, up and down, in the warm sunshine; but it was as if some deadly stupor enveloped him, and as he kept up the steady regulation march, walking and turning like an automaton, he was suddenly fast asleep and dreaming for quite a minute, when he gave a violent start, waking himself, protesting loudly against a charge made against him, and all strangely mixed up the imaginary and the real.

"Swear I wasn't, Sergeant!" he cried angrily. "Look for yerself.— Didn't yer see, pardners? I was walking up and down like a clockwork himidge.—Sleep at my post? Me sleep at my post? Wish I may die if I do such a thing. It's the old game. Yer allus 'ated me, Sergeant, from the very first, and—Phew! Here! What's the matter? I've caught something, and it's got me in the nut. I'm going off my chump."

Poor Gedge stood with his hands clasped to his forehead, staring wildly before him.

"Blest if I wasn't dreaming!" he said wonderingly. "Ain't took bad, am I? Thought old Gee come and pounced upon me, and said I was sleepin' on duty. And it's a fack. It's as true as true; I was fast asleep; leastwise I was up'ards. Legs couldn't ha' been, because they'd ha' laid down. Oh! this here won't do. It was being on dooty without arms."

Drawing himself up, he snatched his bayonet from its scabbard, and resumed his march, going off last asleep again; but this time the cessation of consciousness descended as it were right below the waist-belt and began to steal down his legs, whose movements became slower and slower, hips, then knees, stiffening; and then, as the drowsy god's work attacked his ankles, his whole body became rigid, and he stood as if he had been gradually frozen stiff for quite a minute, when it seemed as if something touched him, and he sprang into wakefulness again, and went on with his march up and down.

"Oh, it's horrid!" he said piteously. "Of course. That'll do it."

He sheathed his bayonet, and catching up his rifle, went through the regular forms as if receiving orders: he grounded arms; then drew and fixed bayonet, shouldered arms, and began the march again.

"That's done it," he said. "Reg'larly woke up now. S'pose a fellow can't quite do without sleep, unless he got used to it, like the chap's 'oss, only he died when he'd got used to living upon one eat a day. Rum thing, sleep, though. I allus was a good un to sleep. Sleep anywhere; but I didn't know I was so clever as to sleep standing up. Wonder whether I could sleep on one leg. Might do it on my head. Often said I could do anything on my head. There, it's a-coming on again."

He stepped to the nearest snow and rubbed his temples with it before resuming his march; but the relief was merely temporary. He went to Bracy's side, to see that he was sleeping heavily, and an intense feeling of envy and longing to follow his officer's example and lie down and sleep for hours nearly mastered him.

"But I won't—I won't sleep," he said, grinding his teeth. "I'll die first. I'm going to keep awake and do my dooty like a soldier by my orficer. I'd do it for any orficer in the ridgement, so of course I would for the gov'nor, poor chap! He's watched over me before now.— Yes, I'm going to keep on. I shall be better soon. Ten minutes would set me right, and if there was a mate here to take my post I'd have a nap; but there ain't a pardner to share it, and I've got to do it on my head. Wonder whether I should feel better if I did stand on my head for a minute. Anyhow, I ain't goin' to try."

Gedge spent the next ten minutes in carefully examining his rifle; then he turned to Bracy, and soon after he took out the latter's glass and swept the country round, to find more groups of men in motion.

"Why, the place is getting alive with the beggars," he growled. "We shall be having some of 'em cocking an eye up and seeing us here. Don't know, though; they couldn't make us out, and even if they did we look like a couple o' sheep. I've got to look out sharp, though, to see as we're not surprised. Almost wish three or four would come now, so as I could have a set-to with 'em. That would wake me up, and no mistake.— Ah! it's wonderful what one can see with a bit or two o' glass set in a brown thing like this.—Ah! there it is again."

Gedge lowered the glass and started violently, for the feeling of sleep was now overmastering.

"Nearly dropped and smashed his glass," he said petulantly, and, laying down his rifle, he closed the little lorgnette slowly and carefully with half-numbed fingers, which fumbled about the instrument feebly.

"He'd ha'—he'd ha'—fine—tongue-thrashing when he woke—foun' glass— smashed."

Gedge sank upon his knees and bent over the sleeper, fumbling for the strap and case to replace the glass.

"Where ha' you got to?" he muttered. "What yer swinging about half a mile away for? Ah! that's got yer," he went on, aiming at the case with a strange fixity of expression. "Now then—the lid—the lid—and the strap through the buckle, and the buckle—done it—me go to sleep—on dooty, Sergeant? Not me!—I—I—ha-h-h!"

Poor Gedge was only human, and his drowsy head sank across Bracy's breast, so wrapped in sleep that the firing of a rifle by his ear would hardly have roused him up.



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

LIKE A DYING DOG.

The sun was rapidly going down towards the western peaks, which stood out dark and clear against the golden orange sky, when Gedge opened his eyes and began to stare in a vacant way at a little peculiarly shaded brown leather case which rose and fell in regular motion a few inches from his nose. He watched it for some minutes, feeling very comfortable the while, for his pillow was warm; though it seemed strange to him that it should move gently up and down. But he grew more wakeful a minute later, and told himself that he knew why it was. He and two London companions had made up their minds to tramp down into Kent for a holiday, and to go hop-picking, and they slept under haystacks, in barns, or in the shade of trees; and at such times as the nights were cool and they had no covering they huddled together to get warm, taking in turns that one of the party should lie crosswise and play pillow for the benefit of his two companions.

It was one of his comrades that time, and the sun was rising, so they ought to be stirring to see about, something for breakfast. But in his drowsy state he could not make out that this was six years ago, nor yet what this brown leather thing was which kept going up and down.

Then all at once he could. It was not six years ago, neither was it early morning, but close upon sunset; that movement was caused by Bracy's respirations, and the brown leather case contained the little field-glass; while the well-drilled soldier, and one of the smartest lads in Captain Roberts's company, had shamefully disgraced himself by going to sleep at his post.

Before he had half-thought this he was upon his feet, to stoop again and pick up his rifle, and then begin stamping up and down with rage.

"Oh!" he groaned; "I ought to be shot—I ought to be shot! Why, the niggers might ha' come and knifed Mr Bracy as he lay there helpless as a kid, and all through me. Slep'? Why, I must ha' slep' hours upon hours. What's the good o' saying you couldn't help it, sir? You ought to have helped it. Call yourself a soldier, and go to sleep at your post in the face of the enemy! That's what the Colonel will say. I can't never face no one agen. I shall desert; that's what I shall do— cut right away and jyne the rebels if they'll have me. Better go and jump down into that hole and bury myself in the snow; but I can't.

"How am I to go and leave the gov'nor when he wants me as he does? Oh dear, oh dear! This is the worst of all. And I was hoping that I should have my stripes when I got back to the fort. Yes, that's it— stripes. I shall get 'em, o' course, but on my back instead of my sleeve. There, I'm a marked man now, and it's about all over."

Gedge grew calmer as he went, on pacing up and down, for he stopped twice over by Bracy, to find that he was sleeping as quietly as a child, and he evidently had not stirred. The young soldier's next act was to get possession of the little field-glass again, and, to his dismay, he made out no less than three bodies of men in the valley far below, one of which was streaming along as if marching quickly, while the other two were stationary, close up to a little clump of pines or cedars, he could not make out which.

"T'others are going to ketch up to 'em and camp for the night, I bet. Yes, that they are," he added as a tiny cloud of grey smoke began to rise. "They're going to cook, so they must have something to roast, and I'm—oh, how hungry I do feel! Better not hold up this rifle, or they may see it in the sunshine, and come and cook us."

He had a good long look, swept the valley as far as he could see, and then laid down his rifle, to go down on one knee by Bracy and begin replacing the glass in its leather case.

"It's all right, sir; on'y me," cried Gedge, for, awakened by the light touch, Bracy seized one hand and made an effort to pull out his revolver.

"Ha!" he cried. "You startled me, Gedge. Want the glass?"

"Had it, sir, thank ye."

"See anything?"

"Yes, sir. There's three lots o' them Dwats down low there—six or seven hundred of 'em, I should say."

"Ah!" cried Bracy, rising quickly into a sitting position, but yielding to an agonising pain and letting himself sink back with a groan.

"Hurt yer, sir?" said Gedge commiseratingly.

"Horribly. But tell me; have I been asleep?"

"Hours and hours, sir. It's just sundown. I was in hopes you'd be better, sir."

"I am, Gedge. I was in a horrible state before. My brain seemed numbed."

"No wonder, sir, lying in the snow all night; but you talk quite straight now."

"Did I seem incoherent before?" said Bracy excitedly.

"Well, sir, I don't say you was ink-o—what you call it: but you was a bit touched in the upper story; and that was only nat'ral, sir."

"Tell me about the enemy down below. Have they made us out?"

"I think not, sir; but I must out with it, sir."

"Ah! there is danger?"

"Oh no, sir, I don't think so; but I can't give much of a report, for I had to do sentry-go while you slep', sir."

"Did you? Well, you're a good fellow, Gedge."

"Not a bit of it, sir. There, it must come to the top. I'd rather tell you than you should find it out, sir. I held up as long as I could, and kep' going to sleep walking or standing still; and at last, after getting out your glass, I knelt down to put it back, and down I went right off to sleep, just as if some one had hit me on the head with the butt of his piece."

"I'm glad of it, Gedge," said Bracy, smiling.

"Glad of it, sir?" said the lad, staring.

"Heartily. It was the only thing you could do after what you had gone through."

"Beg pardon, sir, but as a soldier—" began Gedge.

"Soldiers cannot do impossibilities, my lad. I have all the will and spirit to get on to the Ghil Valley, and yet here I am with my urgent message undelivered, and lying sleeping the greater part of a day."

"Oh, that's different, sir. You're sorter like being in hospital and wounded."

"If not wounded, Gedge," said Bracy sadly, "I am crippled."

"Don't say that, sir," cried the lad excitedly. "I thought you said there was nothing broke."

"I did not think so then, my lad, but there is something wrong with my right leg."

"Amb'lance dooty—first help," said Gedge quickly. "Let's look, sir."

Bracy bowed his head, and the young soldier ran his hand down the puttee bandage about his officer's leg, and drew in his breath sharply.

"Well," said Bracy faintly, "what do you make out?"

"Leg's not broke, sir, but there's something awfully wrong with the ankle. It's all puffed up as big as my 'elmet."

"I was afraid so. Here, help me to stand up."

"Better not, sir," protested Gedge.

"Obey orders, my lad," said Bracy softly, and with a smile at his attendant. "You're not the Doctor."

"No, sir, but—"

"Your hands."

Gedge extended his hands, and by their help Bracy rose, to stand on one leg, the other hanging perfectly helpless, with the toes touching the rock.

"Help—me—" said Bracy faintly, and he made a snatch at Gedge, who was on the alert and caught him round the waist, just in time to save him from a fall.

The next moment he had fainted dead away, to come-to in a few minutes and find his companion laying snow upon his temples.

"Ah!" he sighed; "that's refreshing, Gedge."

"Have a bit to suck, sir?"

"Yes."

Bracy lay for a few minutes letting the snow melt in his mouth; then calmly enough he went on:

"I've got a bad wrench, my lad. My ankle must have doubled under me when I fell. There's no help for it; we have had nothing but misfortunes from the start, but this is the culmination—the worst of all."

"Is it, sir? I'm glad o' that."

"Glad?"

"Yes, sir; 'cause, you see, when things comes to the worst they begins to mend. So will your leg if you let me get the puttee and boot off. If you don't I shall be 'bliged to cut it off before long."

"Go on; you're quite right, my lad," said Bracy calmly; and as the young soldier eagerly busied himself over the frightfully swollen place, unwinding the bandages, which cut down into the flesh, and unlacing the boot, he went on talking calmly:

"About this boot, sir; I've unlaced it as far as I can, and it's quite fast on. Shall I cut it or will you try and bear a wrench?"

"Don't cut it, my lad. Give a quiet, firm drag. I'll bear the pain as well as I can."

The next moment the boot was off, and Bracy lay with his eyes closed.

"Like some more ice, sir?" said Gedge eagerly.

"No, my lad; I'm not going to faint this time. Got some snow, and take my handkerchief to bind some round the ankle. But look first whether you can make out any movement amongst the enemy."

"It's getting dark down there, sir, though it's so bright up here, and the great long shadders of the mountain seems to have swallered 'em up. But they've got a whacking great fire, sir, so they must be going to camp there for the night."

"I don't think they could have made us out, Gedge.—Ha! that feels comforting. But now listen to me."

"Yus, sir. I may go on doing up your leg, though?"

"Oh yes; only attend."

"Of course, sir."

"You can tell the Ghoorkha Colonel—"

"Yes, sir?" said Gedge, for Bracy stopped short.—"He's going off his head again."

"And Colonel Graves, if you get back—"

"Yus, sir."

"That I did everything that man could do to reach the Ghil Valley."

"That I'll swear, sir."

"And that he must lose no time in hurrying to the fort. If he likes to detach half a company to try and pick me up, he will do so; but the fort is to be the first consideration. Do you hear?"

"Yus, sir.—Oh yus, I hears," said Gedge through his teeth as, with the help of Mrs Gee's pocket-book packet, he put some oil-silk over the snow, and then applied the broadest bandage he could find cleverly enough.

"That's right. I'm a bit of a coward, Gedge," continued the poor fellow, with a smile.

"Yes, sir, you are, sir," said Gedge; "an out-and-outer."

"And I want to have as little pain to bear as I can while you're gone."

"Course you do, sir. That's why I'm doing this."

"Make haste, while the light lasts. I want you then to take the rest of the food and put it in your own haversack."

"Yes, sir; not inside?"

"To use as sparingly as you can, so as to make it last till you reach the Ghil Valley. I have broken down, Gedge, but you must get there. Do you hear?—must."

"Yes, sir, I hear—must."

"It means salvation for the poor creatures yonder, holding out their hands to us for help."

"Yes, sir.—But a deal you can see that," muttered Gedge.

"And it means a sergeant's stripes for the brave lad who took the message in the terrible emergency."

"Sergeant, sir? As big a man as old Gee?"

"Yes; and as good a non-commissioned officer, and I hope a more popular man."

"Rigid, sir. That sounds good," cried Gedge cheerily. "But about you, sir? If you get the ridgement o' little chaps and saves the fort, it means your company, don't it—Captain?"

Bracy groaned.

"I was not striving for promotion, Gedge, but to save our fellow-countrymen and women yonder. But listen: in case I faint again— give me a scrap or two more snow, my lad."

He took and sucked the icy particles handed to him, and felt refreshed.

"Now, then," he said; "listen once more, and be quick. Just tie that bandage, and then put the food together. I am not going to load you with instructions which you may not be able to carry out, but look yonder—there is the top of the mountain you have to skirt, shining bright and hopefully in the distance."

"I can see it, sir."

"That is your guide. Once you compass that the way will be easier."

"Yes, sir. When ought I to start?"

"To-night, man, as soon as the sun is down; therefore, mark well where the bright peak lies, so as to take your bearings. The enemy's fire will enable you to avoid that danger. Quick; there is no time to spare; and remember—you must get there."

"Yes, sir; I won't forget."

"Leave me some cartridges to defend myself, if I can. It would be more like a soldier to die like that."

"Yes, sir, o' course; more English and plucky," said Gedge, giving the last bandage its final knot, and then opening his haversack to take out what it contained and divide it.

"What are you doing?" said Bracy sharply.

"Getting your supper ready, sir, and mine," said the lad coldly.

Bracy tried to raise himself up in the fit of anger which attacked him, but fell back with a groan. Fighting back the sensation of weakness, though, he spoke as firmly as he could.

"I want no food," he said quietly, "and you are wasting time. A good twenty-four hours have been lost. Go at once."

"But you must eat something, sir," said Gedge stubbornly. "There's the cold coming on awful now the sun's down, and it will keep it out."

"Those poor creatures at the fort are waiting and praying for help to come, while the hungry wolves of Dwats are crowding closer and closer in ready for the massacre."

"Yes, sir—the beasts!—it's precious hard, but let's hope—"

"There is no hope, Gedge. It was the last card the Colonel had to play in sending us, and we must not fail. You must go at once."

"But I aren't had nothing to-day, sir," pleaded Gedge, "and my inside's going mad. Wolves? Why, I feel just as if one was tearing me."

"Take all the provisions left, and eat as you go."

"And what about you, sir?"

"Never mind me. Go at once."

"But it'll be dark as pitch in 'alf-a-hour, sir. How am I to see my way?"

"I told you. The descent will be easy. You can almost slide down all the way, for the snow is getting glassy again, and you must guide yourself by leaving the enemy's fire on the right. Look! it is glowing brightly now."

"That's right, sir, till I get to the bottom. But what then?"

"Gedge, are you going to fail me in this terrible emergency?"

"Not me, sir," cried the lad excitedly. "I'll stick to you till we both goes under fighting to the last, for they don't want to make prisoners of us; their knives are too sharp."

"Then go."

"But I'm sure I couldn't find the way, sir. I should be taking the first turning to the left, or else to the right, or tumbling into another hole like this, or doing some stoopid thing. I'm no use, sir, without my orficer to tell me what to do."

Bracy drew a deep breath and pressed his lips together, as he fought hard to keep down his anger against his follower.

"I have told you what to do," he said at last quite calmly. "You must use your brains."

"Never had much, sir," replied Gedge bitterly; "and now they're about froze up with cold and hungriness and trouble. I ain't fit to send on such a job as this, sir. I'm sure to muff it."

"Do you want to find out some day, my lad, that those poor comrades of ours have been massacred to a man through your hanging back from doing what might have saved them?"

"I wish I may die if I do, sir!" cried Gedge passionately.

"Then go."

"But I'm cold and hungry, sir, and it's getting dark, and I don't know my way."

"Crush those feelings down like a hero, and go."

"Hero, sir? Me a hero!" cried Gedge bitterly. "Oh? there's none of that stuff in me."

There was just enough light reflected from the upper peaks to enable the couple to see each other's faces—the one frowning and angry, and belying the calm, stern fixedness into which it had been forced; the other wild, anxious, and with the nerves twitching sharply at the corners of the eyes and mouth, as if its owner were grimacing in mockery of the young officer's helplessness and suffering.

"Gedge," said Bracy suddenly, after making an effort as if to swallow down the rage and despair from which he suffered.

"Yes, sir, I know what you're going to say; but you're awful bad. Now, you have a bit to eat, and then go to sleep, and when you wake up let's see if I can't manage to get you on one of those flat bits o' slaty stone, and then I'll get a strap to it, and pull you down the slope— you'll quite slide like—and when we're off the snow I'll pig-a-back you to the first wood, and we'll hide there, and I'll keep helping you on a bit till we get to this here Jack-and-Jill Valley. You see, the job can't be done without you."

"This is all shuffling and scheming, Gedge, to escape doing your duty," said Bracy sternly.

"Is it, sir?" said the lad, with an assumption of innocence.

"You know it is, sir. You don't want to go?"

"Well, sir, I suppose that is about the size of it."

"Do you want me to look upon you as a contemptible cur?" said Bracy, flashing out into anger now.

"No, sir; o' course not."

"I see how it is. I've been believing you to be all that is manly and true, while all the time I've been labouring under a gross mistake, for now you are put to the test you are only base metal. Go; leave me. Gedge, you are a miserable, contemptible coward after all."

"Yes, sir; that's it, sir," said the lad bitterly; "bit o' common brass as got into the service, and you orficers and old Gee and the rest of you drilled up and polished and dressed up and put some gilt on; but when yer comes to rub it off, I'm on'y a bit o' brass after all."

"Yes, you know exactly—coward!—dog!"

"Don't, sir!" cried the poor fellow in a choking voice; "don't! It's like laying it on to a chap with a wire whip."

"Then do your duty. Go."

"I can't, sir; I can't," cried the lad, literally writhing, as if the blows were falling upon his back and sides. "I dessay I am a coward, but I'd follow you anywheres, sir, if the bullets was whistling round us, and them devils were waiting for us with their knives; but I can't go and leave you now, sir. You ain't fit to leave. It'd be like killing you—murdering of you, sir, with the cold and starvation."

"It is your duty to go."

"But you don't know how bad you are, sir," pleaded the lad, with the great sobs struggling to escape from his breast. "You don't know, sir; but I do, sir. You'd be frozen stiff before it was light again."

"Perhaps; but I should die knowing that an effort was being made to save those we have left behind."

"You've done all you can do, sir," pleaded Gedge passionately. "We can't do no more."

"I can't, but you can. I call upon you once more to go and do this thing. If you have any manhood in you, go."

"I can't, sir," groaned Gedge.

"You coward!—it's your duty to go."

"It ain't, sir; it can't be, to leave my orficer to die like this. I know it can't. Why, if I did, and got the help, and took the men back, and the Colonel got to know how, he'd think it warn't worth getting it at such a price. He'd call me a cowardly dog and a hound, and the lads would groan and spit at me. Why, they'd cob me when they got me alone, and I couldn't say a word, because I should feel, as I always should to the last day I lived, that I'd been a miserable sneak."

"I tell you it is your duty, my man," cried Bracy again.

"Don't send me, sir! I ain't afraid," pleaded Gedge once more. "It's leaving you to die in the cold and dark. I can't go!—I can't go!"

Bracy struggled up at this, supporting himself with his left hand, moved now as he was by his companion's devotion; but he choked down all he longed to say in the one supreme effort he was making to fulfil the mission he had failed in by another hand.

"I am your officer, sir. You are a soldier, sworn to serve your country and your Queen."

Gedge looked down at the speaker through the gloom, and saw him fumbling beneath his sheepskin coat with his right hand. The next minute he had drawn his revolver, and Gedge heard it click.

"You hear me, sir?" cried Bracy sternly.

"Yes, sir, I hear."

"Then obey your officer's orders."

"You ain't an officer now, sir; you're a patient waiting to be carried to the rear, after going down in front."

"How dare you!" cried Bracy fiercely. "Obey my orders."

"They ain't your orders, and it ain't my dooty to obey a poor fellow as has gone stick stark raving mad."

"Obey my orders, dog, or—"

"I won't!" cried Gedge passionately. "I'll be drummed out if I do."

"You dog!" roared Bracy, and the pistol clicked.

"Shoot me, then, for a dog," cried Gedge passionately, "and if I can I'll try to lick yer hand, but I won't leave you now."

The pistol fell with a dull sound as Bracy sank back, and in that terrible darkness and silence, amid the icy snow, a hoarse groan seemed to tear its way from the young officer's breast.



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

A WILD IDEA.

How long that silence lasted neither could have afterwards said, but after a time Bracy felt a couple of hands busy drawing the spare poshtin more about him. Then a face was placed close to his, and a hand touched his forehead softly. "I'm not asleep, Gedge," he said. "Ha!" sighed the lad, with a long drawn breath: "getting afraid, sir; you lay so still."

"It's all over, my man," said Bracy wearily.

"No, no; don't say that, sir," cried Gedge. "I was obliged to—"

"Hush! I don't mean that. I only feel now that I can sleep."

"Yes, sir; do, sir. Have a good try."

"I cannot while I know that I have your coat."

"Oh, I don't mind, sir; and I've got to be sentry."

"We want no sentry here, my lad. Take the coat from under me."

"But—"

"Come, obey me now," said Bracy quietly. "Get close to me, then, and cover it over us both."

"You mean that, sir?"

"Yes.—There, my lad, all men are equal at a time like this. I have striven to the last, but Fate has been against me from the first. I give up now."

"I didn't want to run against you, sir; but I was obliged."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"You wouldn't have gone and left me, sir?"

"I don't know," said Bracy slowly.

"I do, sir; I know you wouldn't."

"Let it rest, my lad, and we'll wait for day. God help the poor creatures at the fort, and God help us too!"

"Amen!" said Gedge to himself; and as the warmth began to steal through his half-frozen limbs he lay gazing at the distant glow of the enemy's fire far away below, till it grew more and more faint, and then seemed to die right out—seemed, for it was well replenished again and again through the night, and sent up flames and sparks as if to give a signal far away, for the supply of fir-branches was abundant, and the fire rose in spirals up into the frosty sky.

Bracy too lay watching the distant blaze till it grew dim to his half-closed eyes. A calmer feeling of despair had come over him, and the feeling that he had done all that man could do softened the mental agony from which he had suffered. This was to be the end, he felt; and, if ever their remains were found, those who knew them would deal gently with their memory. For the inevitable future stared him blankly in the face. Gedge would strive his utmost to obtain help, but he felt that the poor fellow's efforts would be in vain, and that, if they lived through the night, many hours would not elapse before they perished from hunger and the cold.

The feeling of weary mental confusion that stole over him then was welcome; and, weak from the agony he had suffered, he made an effort to rouse himself from the torpor that, Nature-sent, was lulling the pangs in his injured limb, but let his eyelids droop lower and lower till the distant light was shut out, and then cold, misery, and despair passed away, for all was blank.

————————————————————————————————————

The specks of golden light were beginning to show on the high peaks, and gradually grew brighter till it was sunny morning far up on the icy eminences, chilly dawn where the two sheepskin-covered figures lay prone, and night still where the fire was blazing by the pine-forest, and the great body of the enemy had bivouacked.

The two motionless figures were covered by a thick rime frost, which looked grey in the dim light, not a crystal as yet sending off a scintillation; and tiny spicules of ice had matted the moustache and beard of Bracy where his breath had condensed during the night, sealing them to the woolly coverlet he had drawn up close; while a strange tingling sensation attacked his eyes as he opened them suddenly, waking from a morning dream of defending the fort and giving orders to his men, who fired volley after volley, which, dream-like, sounded far away.

He was still half-asleep, but involuntarily he raised a warm hand to apply to his eyes. In a very few minutes they were clear, and he began breaking and picking off bit by bit the little icicles from his moustache.

It was strange how it mingled still with his dreams—that firing of volleys; and the half-drowsy thoughts turned to wonder that there should be firing, for he must be awake. Directly after he knew he was, for there was a sharp rattle in the distance, which came rolling and echoing from the face of the great cliff across the gulf, and Gedge jerked himself and said sleepily:

"That's right, boys; let 'em have it."

"Gedge!" cried Bracy hoarsely.

"Right, sir; I'm here," was the answer; and the young soldier rolled over from beneath the poshtin, rose to his feet, staggered, and sat down again.

"Oh, murder!" he cried. "My poor feet ain't froze hard, are they?"

"I pray not," said Bracy excitedly.

"'Cause I can't stand. But, hallo! sir; what game's this? They're a-firing at us, and coming up over the snow."

"No, no, it can't be!" cried Bracy wildly. "No tribes-men could fire volleys like that."

"Course not, sir. Hoorray! then the Colonel's sent a couple o' comp'nies to help us."

"Impossible!" cried Bracy. "Hark! there is the reply to the firing. Yes; and another volley. I almost thought I could see a flash."

"Did yer, sir? Oh, don't talk; do listen, sir. There they go. There must be a big fight going on down there."

"Then friends have attacked the enemy in camp—advanced upon them so as to catch them before daylight."

"Oh! they might ha' waited till it was light enough for us to see, sir. Mr Bracy, sir, don't, pray don't say it's reg'lars, because if it ain't I couldn't stand it now. I should go down and blubber like a great gal."

"It is a force of regulars, my lad," cried Bracy, whose voice sounded as if he were choking. "Friends are there below in the valley. I know: the Colonel must have been badly beaten at the fort."

"Oh, don't say that, sir."

"It must be. They have been too much for him, and he is retreating with our lads trying to make for the Ghil Pass. That is the meaning of the gathering last night to bar their way."

"Oh Lor'! oh Lor'! and us not able to fire a shot to help 'em. Be any use to begin, sir, like for signals to show we're here?"

"No," said Bracy sadly; "our single shots could not be heard."

"Not if we fired both together, sir?" cried Gedge wildly. "I'll load for you."

"How could they distinguish between our shots and those of the enemy you can hear crackling?"

"Course not, sir. I'm a poor idjit sometimes. But oh! why does it keep dark down there so long when it's getting quite light up here? We can't see what's going on a bit."

"No; but my ears tell me pretty plainly," said Bracy excitedly.

"Mr Bracy, sir."

"Yes?"

"We aren't worse, are we, and all this a sort o' nightmare before we loses ourselves altogether?"

"No, man, no. Listen. They must be getting the worst of it."

"Our lads, sir? Oh, don't say that! There must be a lot of them, by the volley-firing. Don't say they're being cut up."

"The enemy, man. Can't you hear how steady the firing is?—Splendid. I can almost see them. The enemy must be retiring stubbornly, and they're following them up."

"Yes, sir; that's it," cried Gedge wildly. "Go on, sir; go on."

"Their officers are holding the men well in hand, so as not to come to a charge in that broken country, and withering the crowd with their fire to make them scatter."

"Right, sir, right. That's it. Oh, if we was only there!"

There was a pause—the two men listening.

"The enemy's firing sounds more broken up, and is getting feebler."

"Yes, sir; I can make out that," panted Gedge. "Oh! I say, don't let the lads get out of hand and follow the beggars where they can get hold of the bay'nets and use their long knives."

For another half-hour the pair lay listening to the engagement going on, till it seemed as if the daylight below would never come. Then the darkness gave way, to display far below a cold grey mist, through which clouds of smoke were softly rising; and Bracy brought his glass to bear upon the fight still raging furiously, and looked in silence till Gedge turned to him:

"Oh, do say something, sir! Our lads—they ain't being cut up, sir, are they?"

"No, no, I think not, my lad; but I can hardly make out what is going on at present. Ha! it's gradually growing lighter there. The enemy are not where they were last night, and the troops are there."

"Then they've took the beggars' camp, sir?"

"That does not follow," said Bracy, whose eyes were glued to his glass.—"I can make out the white-coats now. They have divided, and are upon the rising ground all round. Our poor fellows must have fallen into a trap."