CHAPTER X.--SO POOR CONAL MUST PERISH!
Duncan was first to the fore in the morning. He touched Captain Talbotlightly on the shoulder, and he awoke at once.
It took a whole series of shakings, however, to arouse Conal. He hadbeen dreaming of his far-off Highland home, and when he did at last situp and rub his eyes, it took him fully a minute to know where he was inparticular.
Well, while the men prepared a simple breakfast of coffee, sardines,butter, and soft tack, the skipper and the boys left the cave and wentin for as thorough ablution as was in their power at the snow-waterrill. They felt infinitely refreshed thereafter; a large box ofsardines, placed for discussion before each, disappeared almostmagically, for bracing indeed was the breeze that blew high up on thisdreary mountain.
And now, the sun being well up, climbing was resumed.
Only about two thousand feet more remained to be discussed, but thisformed the toughest climb of all. For not only was the breeze now highand the gradient steep, but the cold was intense, while breathing wasfar from easy.
Indeed, although an ascent of ten to twelve thousand feet may not beconsidered a tall record for accomplished club-men in the Alpine regionsof Europe, it would be a terrible undertaking for even those among theperpetual snows of the Antarctic.
It needed not only all the strength, but even all the courage that ourheroes were possessed of, to finally succeed. For in many parts asingle slip might have precipitated three of them at least into chasmsor over precipices that were too fearful even to think of.
Indeed, several such slips did occur, but luckily the ropes held, andthe foremost men, planting their feet firmly against the mountain-side,succeeded in preventing an accident.
The danger was quite as great, when steps had to be hewn on the sides ofice-rocks, and the labour in such cases five times as fatiguing, andhappy they felt, on every such occasion, when they found themselves on aplateau.
"Whatever a man dares he can do!"
The grand old motto of, I believe, the clan Cameron; but many a man of adifferent clan has felt the force and the truth of these brave words.Both Duncan and his brother seemed to do so, when they stood at longlast with their comrades on the very summit of Mount Terror, and on thebrink of its terrible, though partially extinct, crater.
Who would venture to peep over into the awful gulf, which, by the way,Ted Noolan believed to be really an opening into the nether regions--theregions of despair?
Duncan was the first to volunteer. The others followed suit with oneexception.
What a gulf! It must have been acres in extent, and fully one thousandfeet in depth. The precipices that formed its sides were at times evenblack and sheer; in some places overhanging, and in others sloping sothat one might have tobogganed down into the regions of perpetual fire.Not everywhere down yonder, however, were flames visible. It was more acollection of boiling, bubbling cauldrons, emitting jets of sulphuroussmoke, the surface of the molten lava being continually crossed byflickering tongues of flame, transcendently beautiful.
Right in the centre was an irregular gaping mouth, and from this smokenow and then arose, accompanied by hurtling horrible thunders that madeour strong-hearted heroes quiver. Not with fear, I shall not go so faras that, but no one could tell at what moment an eruption might takeplace.
To Duncan's waist the rope had been made fast, else he never would haveventured to lean over that awful crater.
It was the captain's turn next. Then came Conal's and the men's.
All but Ted.
"Is it me myself?" he said, drawing back, when asked to do as the othershad done. "Fegs! no. It is faint I would entoirely, and faint and fallover. Bedad! I've no raison to go to such a place as that before mytime."
Captain Talbot now proceeded to take his observations. His aneroid toldhim, to begin with, that the mountain was more nearly twelve than eleventhousand feet above the sea-level. Piercingly cold though it was, hetook time to make a note of everything. But I should not have used theword "cold". This is far from descriptive of the lowness of temperatureexperienced, for the spirit thermometer stood at 40 deg. below zero.
It was now four o'clock in the afternoon, and all hands were almostexhausted from fatigue. But Talbot was not so foolish as to give themstimulants. This would only have resulted in a sleepy or partiallycomatose state of the brain, and an accident would assuredly havefollowed.
"Now, men, we have seen all there is to see, and I've taken myobservations, so it is time we were getting down again to our shelteringcave, in which we shall pass one night more. But we can say that wehave been the first to ascend this mighty mountain, and human feet havenever before traversed the ground on which you now are standing.
"See here," he continued, suiting the action to the word, "I place thislittle flag--the British ensign--and though storms may rend it, thismountain, and all the land and country around, shall evermore belong tous."
He handed the still-extended telescope to Duncan as he spoke and pointedto the south.
No open sea there! But the roughest, wildest kind of snow-clad countryanyone could well imagine. Yet, far far away, the jagged peaks of manya mountain rose high on the horizon.
And now "God save the Queen", was sung, and the very crater itselfseemed to echo back the wild cheers that rose high on the evening air.
Solemn and serious all must be now however, for although the descentwould not occupy so much time, it was quite as fraught with peril as thecoming up had been, and even more so.
The rope was constantly kept taut, however, on every extra dangerousposition, with the happy result that they reached the cave in good time,all tired, but all safe.
The cold was not nearly so intense here, however, and in the strange andbeautiful--nay, but fairy-like cave--it was almost _nil_.
Never did brave and weary travellers enjoy a supper more. So sure werethey of reaching their ship next day, that they gave themselves someextra indulgences, and tins of mock-turtle soup were warmed and eatenwith the greatest of relish.
----
They sat long together to-night talking of home in the "olde countrie",and many a droll yarn was told and many a story of adventure by sea andland.
Bed at last, if one may call it a bed, with only the hard rock to lieupon, and a rug wherein to wrap one's-self, curled up like a ferret toretain all the warmth of the body. For sleeping-bags had been leftbehind after all.
What though subterranean thunders roared far beneath them many times andoft during the night, they heard them not, so doubly soundly did theysleep.
There is always one thing to be said concerning adventures of a verydangerous character, namely, that though kept up by excitement, we maynot be sorry to enter into them, and go through with them, too, likeBritons bold and true, still we are rather glad than otherwise when theyare over.
Our heroes awoke next morning, therefore, betimes, and squatted down tobreakfast, hungry and happy enough. Would they not soon be back oncemore on their brave barque, to tell their comrades of all their strangeexperiences?
It is doubtless a good thing for us that we are not prescient, elsethinking of troubles to come would cast a gloom over everyone's lifethat nothing could banish.
Little did these officers and men of the _Flora M'Vayne_, as theyresumed their downward journey, know of the trouble before them.
They had reached the very last crevasse, and were in full view of theship, although at least five thousand feet above it, when an accidentoccurred of a very startling nature indeed.
The plank was just thrown across and Conal had stepped on to it, roped,of course, to his fellows, when, to their horror, it slipped, and wasprecipitated into the chasm.
And with it fell Conal!
The skipper and Duncan had held the rope taut, but it snapped as if ithad been made of straw.
Luckily, although the wretched boy fell sheer down only a distance ofabout fifty feet, the rest he slid on loose pieces of ice an
d snow.
On referring to the log-book of Captain Talbot, which lies on my tablebefore me, the abyss or ice-crevasse is stated to have been about twohundred feet in depth. And there was no outlet.
Nor any apparent means of saving the poor fellow, for although hiscompanions would gladly have hurried to the ship for assistance theycould not cross that ice-ravine, nor could they retreat for want of aplank.
So, poor Conal must perish!
----
It was about two bells in the first watch, and Frank with faithful Vikewas walking to and fro on the quarter-deck.
He had a telescope under his arm, and every now and then he directed itto the far-off mountain, adown which he had observed his shipmatesstreaming since ever they had arrived on the easternmost side of MountTerror.
How well named!
So good was the glass that he could count them as he came, and even makeout their forms. Duncan's was stalwart and easily seen, Conal's litherfar than Captain Talbot's, and the men were bearing their packages.
He watched them as they approached the last dread crevasse.
With some anxiety, he could not tell why, he saw the plank raised andlowered across the abyss, and noticed that it was Conal's light formthat first began to cross.
Suddenly he uttered a bitter cry of anguish and despair.
"Mate, mate!" he shouted. "Oh, come, come! There has been a fearfulaccident, and Conal is killed."
As if hoping against hope, both he and the mate counted the number onthe small ice plateau over and over again.
There had been six in all.
Now there were but five!
And these seemed now to be signalling for assistance.
There was but one thing to be done, however hopeless it might seem, andthat was to get up and despatch a party to the rescue as soon as dayshould once more break.
Had they been ready they should have started at once. But Frank had agood head on his shoulders for one so young, and in a matter of life anddeath like this he was right in considering well what had best be done.
Of course he consulted with the mate, and he immediately suggested arope of many, many fathoms in length.
"Doubtless," he said, "poor Conal is dead, or if stunned he willspeedily freeze to death, but we would be all unwilling to sail away andleave the poor bruised body in the terrible crevasse."
"Have we rope enough on board to be of real service?" asked Frank in avoice broken with emotion.
"Bless you, yes, my boy, fifty fathoms of manilla, light, but strongenough to bear an ox's weight."
"Thank God!" cried Frank fervidly.
There was little thought of rest now till long past sunset.
A plank of extra breadth was got ready, and the rope was coiled so thatseveral hands could assist in bearing it along.
Provisions were also packed, and so all was ready for the forlorn hope.
The relief party now lay down to snatch a few hours of rest, but, soonafter the crimson and orange glory of the sky heralded the approach ofthe sun, they were aroused from their slumbers.
Breakfast was speedily discussed, and now they were ready.
There was no hesitation about Frank Trelawney, the Cockney boy, now. Hewas British all over, and brave because he was British. His dearestfriend, Conal, lay stark and stiff in that fearful ice-gap; he would beone of the first to help the poor bruised body to bank, ay, and bedew itwith tears which it would be impossible to restrain.
----
It had been an anxious and sad night for those on the hill. They coulduntil sunset see the wretched Conal in that darksome crevasse, and theydid all they could do, for they made up a bundle of rugs with plenty ofprovisions enclosed and hurled it down.
Strangely enough, he could talk to those on the hillside, and they tohim, without elevating their voices.
They bade him be of good cheer, for signals from the _Flora_ told themthat preparations for rescue were already being made.
Frank's march across the great snow plains was a forced one, but anhour's rest and a good meal was indispensable before the ascent could beattempted.
Perhaps no mountain was ever climbed more speedily by men in anycountry. They had the trail of the captain and his party to guide them,but nevertheless the work was arduous in the extreme.
Should they be in time?
Or was Conal dead?
These were the questions that they asked each other over and over again.
They hoped against hope, however, as brave men ever do.