By the time Bluey reached the other side of the swing bridge, the temperature had fallen again; snowflakes drifted down heavily and visibility had dropped further, while his huge hands were stiff and numb from cold. Pulling a flap on an easily accessible side pocket where Bluey had stowed his gloves, he extracted the fabric mittens and folded his freezing hands into their smooth luxury, feeling the soothing warmth melt away the pain.
The trail began to take a sharp uphill gradient and the path was strewn with a patchwork of loose rocks; care had to be taken not to roll a heel. Being stuck out in the open in this weather with a broken ankle didn't leave much chance of survival and Bluey knew he had an arduous two and a half mile climb to the safety of the hut; but judging by the snow falling, it would be treacherously slippery.
Feeling around his numb face, Bluey undid his jacket, dropped his pack from his shoulders and began to search a deep pocket on the rear of his sack but his gloved hands made it difficult to grab a hold. Finding the woolly garment trapped in the pocket, he removed it with a antagonised reef and slid his raincoat hood off, then pulled the balaclava over his head and face, leaving a small, clear space for his eyes and bringing immediate relief from the numbing cold. He pulled the raincoat hood back over his head and with the new sense of warmth came renewed hope.
Pushing on, Bluey carefully checked every step as the snow lay thick on the ground, covering the hazardous uneven surface and making each movement painfully slow.
*~*~*~*
Three more hours passed before Bluey cautiously weaved up the mountainous zigzag trail far enough to see the summit through the swirling, heavy black cloud and fast approaching the unpredictable Mackinnon’s Pass. As he turned up to climb the last zigzag, a sudden cold blast of freezing wind hit him full force, followed by another and another until he was leaning into a full blown blizzard.
He knew the hut was around the monument to Mackinnon somewhere, but trying to find it in the howling wind driven snow and poor visibility could be as difficult as trying to find a single drop in an ocean of turmoil. The edges of the pass dropped away 3,000 feet, almost vertical, so to put a foot in the wrong place could be disastrous; but staying out in this blizzard and losing core body temperature could be just as hazardous. He bent his head into the howling wind and began to search the pass for the hut.
In the grey confused environment he noticed what looked like a backpack, almost covered by drift snow and lying unattended against a rock. Bluey stared at the unusual scene and his stomach suddenly knotted in fear, working through the implications of a backpack lying discarded in a blizzard and near the edge of a 3,000 foot sheer drop.
As he approached the backpack and the edge of the abyss, he could see smudged footprints disappearing into the cloud and losing shape as newly driven snow covered over the evidence. He dropped his pack gently to the ground and lowered himself on his stomach and peered over the chasm. Bluey knew finding the hut was imperative to his survival and if he spent too much time out in the severe conditions, he would eventually succumb to severe hypothermia and then death.
An abrupt scene took him by surprise and he had to blink to clear his vision and make sure he was seeing what he thought he saw. As he peered over the precipice, a young girl appeared to be hanging onto a rock jutting out and was nearly covered in snow.
"Hello! Can you hear me?!" Bluey shouted against the noise of the wind, wondering whether he was about to bury a frozen body.
To his astonishment the body moved and peered directly up at him, shivering and pleading with Bluey, "Help! Please help!"
"Hang on! I am going to set up a rope to come down and get you."
There were times when Bluey argued with himself about what to take on his many excursions and a small steel stake and ice pick almost didn't make it into his pack. Looking around at the barren, flat landscape and lack of trees or anchoring points, Bluey was glad his just in case instinct had won out.
Reaching into a side pocket in his pack, he withdrew the stake and the ice pick and with determined strokes of the pick, pounded the steel palisade into the hard ground. Satisfied it was firm, he removed the rope from his pack frame, tied it to the stake and threw the other end over the precipice. The rope dropped next to the small body and the end disappeared, further down into the thick, cloudy curtain.
Bluey gently edged his way down over the drop, but suddenly lost his feet on slippery ice, crashing his body heavily into the mountain and sending rock and snow plummeting all over the frightened girl. Regaining his foothold, he continued his descent until he came alongside the freezing form and slipped his large arm under her and yelled, "Let go! I've got you."
He lifted the tiny frame and was surprised how light she was, but the small figure panicked and grabbed Bluey around his neck like a vice, shivering in the howling wind.
By the time Bluey reached safety, he had to peel her arms from his neck and try to convince her she was safe. When he got a good look at the shivering form, he was surprised to see a young girl of about twelve years old and she needed warmth immediately. Bluey grabbed his pack and pulled out the plastic A-frame cover, but it fought against him in the howling maelstrom and flapped violently. Regaining control over the cover, he wrapped it around the girl to block out the chilling wind and restore her core body temperature.
"M..my mother," the girl shivered, pointing over the edge of the precipice.
Bluey's stomach knotted as he followed her pointing arm.
"Is someone else over the edge?"
The girl nodded her head, shivering uncontrollably in the cold.
Bluey removed his sleeping bag from his pack and wrapped it around the girl and then placed the plastic cover back over her. "Keep your head under the cover and stay away from the edge."
The girl nodded in agreement, shivering violently.
Bluey peered over the edge again and could see marks on the ground just beyond where he’d picked up the girl, but then the cloud swallowed up any chance of seeing anything further.
He grabbed hold of the rope and gently lowered himself back over the edge and further down into the cloud and as the incline increased and the cliff face tumbled into oblivion, he came across another body, the body of a woman hanging precariously off a small rock ledge. She wasn't moving and had a bloody gash on her head and her face was pale with icicles forming on her hair. Bluey gripped the rope tightly with his left hand and positioned himself closer to the body, but he knew he would only get one chance at this and if she slipped through his grip, she would plummet 3,000 feet to the valley floor below.
Aware of the high stakes for both of them, Bluey offered a silent prayer. Please, Father, help me.
Edging closer to her position, Bluey bent his huge frame over the woman and grabbed her around her waist; but for one awful moment, she twisted and nearly slipped from his grip, tumbling from the ledge.
Bluey quickly lunged for her and recaptured his grip, preventing her from disappearing into the heavy cloud and to the valley floor, far below.
The journey back up the rope was hard enough on his own, let alone carrying a 130 pound woman under his arm and by the time Bluey laid the unconscious woman on the ground at the top of the pass, he was exhausted and starting to shiver himself.
Finding the shelter was now a matter of life and death, for all of them.
Relieved to see her mum safe from the precipice, the girl ran over to her unmoving form and wrapped the warm sleeping bag around her to protect her from the wind while the loose end flapped wildly, driven by the blizzard.
Bluey panted and shivered. "We need to find the shelter… and quick."
"I know where it is," the girl assured. Her core body temperature was rising and the effects of hypothermia were lessening.
Bluey scooped up the woman into his arms and wrapped the sleeping bag around her. He motioned for the girl to drape the strap of his pack around his shoulder then lifted the woman–and the pack–with a groan, following the girl’s lead to find
Mackinnon’s hut.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 7
The exertion of carrying a loaded pack and the small frame of an unconscious woman in his arms began to tell on the Aussie giant, but he kept pace with the eager girl and followed her down a snowy path and over a ridge to the stone shelter. The shelter appeared tired and dishevelled, as if it had weathered more than its fair share of Mackinnon Pass storms, with copious amounts of drift snow piled up on the side facing the storms.
Bluey lowered his head into the wind and tried to keep the woman covered, but once the shelter came into view the girl dropped back behind Bluey and used him as a windbreak, occasionally pulling the ends of the sleeping bag back over her mother as the cold torrent lifted it off her. Bluey struggled, exhausted, with the combined load up onto the stairs leading onto the wooden porch, but as the shelter’s structure broke the howling wind, he gently kicked the door open and entered the musty hut.
As Bluey surveyed the frigid interior, the wind howled through the cracks around the window frames, making a ghostly shriek, but increased in pitch when the girl forcefully shoved the rickety wooden door shut against the cold, locking the freezing blizzard outside.
For now.
Bluey let the pack fall from his shoulder, but held the unconscious woman securely in his arms until he could find a suitable location to tend to her injuries. It was bitingly cold inside the shelter but at least now they were protected from the wind chill and providing Bluey could rig a fire and get some heat into the hut, they had a good chance of surviving.
Needing to act quickly and restore the woman’s core body temperature, he counted twenty bunk beds around the walls, each with a single mattress rolled up on one end. There was a wood stove in the middle of the room, a wooden table in one corner and a large window in each wall. A dripping tap, plumbed into a rainwater tank outside, hung through the front wall and into a makeshift concrete sink, draining through a pipe in the bottom and out through the same wall. A doorway joined another small room, stacked up high with dry, life-giving firewood.
Forming a plan and coming to a decision, Bluey quickly instructed the girl what to do. "Grab all the mattresses and bring them down here, so we can tend to your mother."
Following his instructions precisely, the girl grabbed all the mattresses and piled them in front of Bluey.
"Okay, leave six mattresses out and then stack the rest, two this way and two that way, making a neat, interlocked stack."
Finally, a thick barrier to the cold floor rose up in front of Bluey and then he gently laid the woman on the mattresses. "Are you wet?" he asked the girl.
"No, I had my wet weather gear on," she replied.
"How long before I came along did this happen?" Bluey asked.
"About half an hour."
Bluey checked the woman's vital signs and was relieved to find she had a pulse and she was breathing, but she was very cold.
The girl peered at Bluey with concern. "Is she going to be alright?"
"She has hypothermia so we’ll have to get her warm and that bump on her head won't be helping. I don't like the look of her right ankle, either." The girl’s face was tense with concern and Bluey noticed the fear in her eyes. "What's your name?" Bluey asked as he was busy attending to the woman.
"Tabatha-Jean, but Mum calls me TJ."
"My name is Bluey." He offered her his hand and she took it willingly and shook it. "What's your mum's name?"
"Hannah," TJ offered.
"Okay, TJ, take the sleeping bag and shake the snow and water out of it down the back of the hut. Then I am going to lift your mum and you need to feed the sleeping bag under her. Once she is in the sleeping bag, climb in with her and cuddle up close to her. You’ll have to be her hot water bottle and then I will zip you both in. Do you understand?"
"Yes," TJ replied.
"I need to get her boots off first; I don’t like the way that right foot is swelling and then I can concentrate on getting a fire going and some food for us."
Once TJ and her mum were cuddled up in the sleeping bag, Bluey dressed the wound on Hannah's head and covered it with a couple of his spare woollen shirts, allowing a small hole for her to breathe through. He gently prised the boot off her ankle and as he thought, it was bruised and swollen. Using his first aid kit he applied an anti-inflammatory cream, bandaged the foot and placed the sock back on then zipped the sleeping bag closed.
Within half an hour, Bluey had a decent fire burning in the hearth but as he glanced around the inside of the hut, snow was being blown in through the gaps in the window frames and it was bitterly cold. Even though the fire was raging in the hearth, the heat wasn't radiating far; only five feet away from the fire was still freezing cold and getting colder as the sun went down. The glass had fogged up on the inside, too and the wind was still howling outside, playing the hut like a musical instrument.
Bluey stacked some of the dry firewood against the door to stop it rattling and the possibility of it being blown open, should the wind change direction. "How are you doing in there, TJ?" Bluey asked.
"It's warm, but my feet are cold."
Bluey gave immediate attention to this vital piece of information because if TJ's feet were cold, then Hannah's feet would be also. It was important he kept Hannah warm to stop the hypothermia turning life threatening, so he dug into his pack and pulled out his last two pairs of thick woollen socks, unzipped the end of the sleeping bag and carefully slipped them over Hannah's feet and then slid another pair on TJ's feet. TJ smiled at Bluey's kindness, feeling safe and warm in the gentle giant’s presence.
Bluey monitored Hannah’s condition carefully, checking her vital signs often until she was breathing normally; her pulse was rhythmic and strong and her body warmed up from the borrowed heat from her daughter.
"Your mum's going to have one heck of a headache when she wakes, not to mention the pain from her ankle. What were you two doing on the edge of the pass in the middle of a blizzard, anyway?!" Bluey sounded a little more severe than he intended and then felt a pang of remorse with his harsh questioning. He was flabbergasted with himself when TJ choked back her emotions like he had knocked the wind out of her sails before she tried to answer.
"My dad came here nearly four years ago on a trip with some friends. Mum and I were supposed to go but I came down with chicken pox just before we were scheduled to leave. Mum knew Dad was looking forward to the trip and insisted he go without us and finally, after some persuasion, he relented and left. I’m told it was conditions similar to this when he got too close to the edge and slipped and fell down the same place you found Mum. Except... he fell all the way to the valley below.” TJ choked on raw emotion and wiped away tears before she could continue.
“So we come here every year about the same time to throw a wreath of flowers over the edge as a tribute to my dad. This time, Mum slipped as she threw the wreath and lost her footing in the snow and I tried to climb down to her and got stuck," TJ added, wiping tears from her face with the back of her hand.
Bluey's moist eyes peered past TJ, stricken by her tale. "I am truly sorry about your dad," Bluey offered, just barely able to keep his voice steady.
*~*~*~*
By the time Bluey had prepared some food for TJ and himself, it was dark outside and the hearth was the only light inside the hut, but the temperature was still falling. Bluey took the remaining mattresses and stood them on their sides around the stack of mattresses being used as a bed by TJ and Hannah. Taking the rescue rope, he tied it around their circumference, firmly forcing the mattresses to stand against the bed and making a protective box shape around Hannah and TJ. He grabbed up the last mattress intending to use it as a lid and to further insulate them from the cold.
TJ watched what Bluey was doing in amazement. "What about you?!" she asked with concern.
Bluey pointed to the fire. TJ understood what Bluey was doing and wasn’t prepared to see her kind rescuer freeze to death.
"Mum will need warm
th at her back, Bluey!" TJ insisted. "Besides, the fire isn't enough heat to keep you warm; you’ll freeze to death. There is plenty of room in here with Mum and me; or are you afraid of catching girl germs?!"
Bluey's mouth fell open at the wisdom coming from the young girl. She’d nailed his motives down to a tee, but he knew that Hannah needed warmth at her back and that's why he put up the mattresses; however, TJ had seen right through his stalling tactics and exposed him bluntly. The big man was shy and afraid of getting too close.
Taking over as the adult, Tabatha-Jean purposefully threw the zip of the sleeping bag open, slid herself to the edge of the mattresses and gently pulled Hannah over, making room for Bluey at Hannah's back. Doing as he was told, Bluey shyly slid in behind Hannah, and then TJ zipped up the sleeping bag again while Bluey lowered the last mattress in place over them. It was tight inside the mattress block but extremely warm and the only position the big man could put his long arm was directly over Hannah and TJ.
TJ moved in close and snuggled up to her mother, making sure the warmth stayed concentrated around Hannah and as the temperature inside the sleeping bag rose, the temperature in the hut dropped well below freezing.
*~*~*~*
A slight moan right in front of Bluey woke him from a deep sleep and it took a moment to realise where he was and what was going on. Hannah was either coming around, or the wind was picking up further.
"W..where am I? Oh my foot!" Hannah groaned.
TJ's voice broke into the darkness, "Mum, we're safe. It's okay."
"TJ?"
"I am lying right in front of you and Bluey is right behind you."
"Bluey?"
"He saved our lives, Mum. It's okay, just try and rest."
Bluey wondered whether he should say anything. Instead, he decided to stay quiet and listen.
Hannah felt warm and secure at the sound of TJ's reassurance and an arm draped across her body added to her security, and so she drifted easily back into an exhausted sleep. The blizzard outside picked up momentum and the roofing tin began to shake and quiver, screeching violently in the dark. The windows started to rattle and snowflakes flew around inside the dark hut.