Patience Wins Part 10

"No," I gasped. "If I move I'm afraid I shall fall."

There was the same fierce drawing in of the breath, the crawling sound again, and a hand touched my face, pa.s.sed round it, and took a tight hold of my collar.

"Lie quite still, Cob," was whispered; "I'm going to draw you up. Now!"

I felt myself dragged up suddenly, and at the same moment the earth and stones upon which I had been lying dropped from under me with a loud hissing rus.h.i.+ng sound, and then I was lying quite still, clinging to Uncle Bob's hand, which was very wet and cold.

"How did you come there?" he said at length.

"Crawled there, trying to get to you," I said.

"And nearly went down that fearful precipice, you foolish fellow. But there: you are safe."

"I did not know it was so dangerous," I faltered.

"Dangerous!" he cried. "It is awful in this horrible darkness. The mountain seems to have been cut in half somewhere about here, and this fog confuses so that it is impossible to stir. We must wait till it blows off I think we are safe now, but I dare not try to find a better place. Dare you?"

"Not after what I have just escaped from," I said dolefully.

"Are you cold?"

"Ye-es," I said with a s.h.i.+ver. "It is so damp."

"Creep close to me, then," he said. "We shall keep each other warm."

We sat like that for hours, and still the fog kept as dense as ever, only that overhead there was a faint light, which grew stronger and then died out over and over again. The stillness was awful, but I had a companion, and that made my position less painful. He would not talk, though as a rule he was very bright and chatty; now he would only say, "Wait and see;" and we waited.

The change came, after those long terrible hours of anxiety, like magic.

One moment it was thick darkness; the next I felt, as it were, a feather brush across my cheek.

"Did you feel that?" I said quickly.

"Feel what, Cob?"

"Something breathing against us?"

"No--yes!" he cried joyfully. "It was the wind."

The same touch came again, but stronger. There was light above our heads. I could dimly see my companion, and then a cloud that looked white and strange in the moonlight was gliding slowly away from us over what seemed to be a vast black chasm whose edge was only a few yards away.

It was wonderful how quickly that mist departed and went skimming away into the distance, as if a great curtain were being drawn, leaving the sky sparkling with stars and the moon s.h.i.+ning bright and clear.

"You see now the danger from which you escaped?" said Uncle Bob with a shudder.

"Yes," I said; "but did--do you think--"

He looked at me without answering, and just then there came from behind us a loud "Ahoy!"

"Ahoy!" shouted back Uncle Bob; and as we turned in the direction of the cry we could see Uncle Jack waving his white handkerchief to us, and we were soon after by his side.

They gripped hands without a word as they met, and then after a short silence Uncle Jack said:

"We had better get on and descend on the other, side."

"But Uncle d.i.c.k!" I cried impetuously; "are you not going to search for Uncle d.i.c.k?"

The brothers turned upon me quite fiercely, but neither of them spoke; and for the next hour we went stumbling on down the steep slope of the great hill, trying to keep to the sheep-tracks, which showed pretty plainly in the moonlight, but every now and then we went astray.

My uncles were wonderfully quiet, but they kept steadily on; and I did not like to break their communings, and so trudged behind them, noting that they kept as near as seemed practicable to the place where the mountain ended in a precipice; and now after some walking I could look back and see that the moon was s.h.i.+ning full upon the face of the hill, which looked grey and as if one end had been dug right away.

On we went silently and with a settled determined aim, about which no one spoke, but perhaps thought all the more.

I know that I thought so much about the end of our quest that I kept shuddering as I trudged on, with sore feet, feeling that in a short time we should be turning sharp round to our left so as to get to the foot of the great precipice, where the hill had been gnawed away by time, and where the loose earth still kept s.h.i.+vering down.

It was as I expected; we turned sharp off to the left and were soon walking with our faces towards the grey-looking face, that at first looked high, but, as we went on, towered up more and more till the height seemed terrific.

It was a weary heart-rending walk before we reached the hill-like slope where the loose shaley rock and earth was ever falling to add to the _debris_ up which we climbed.

"There's no telling exactly where he must have come over," said Uncle Jack, after we had searched about some time, expecting moment by moment to come upon the insensible form of our companion. "We must spread out more."

For we neither of us would own to the possibility of Uncle d.i.c.k being killed. For my part I imagined that he would have a broken leg, perhaps, or a sprained ankle. If he had fallen head-first he might have put out his shoulder or broken his collar-bone. I would not imagine anything worse.

The moon was not so clear now, for fleecy clouds began to sail across it and made the search more difficult, as we clambered on over the shale, which in the steepest parts gave way under our feet. But I determinedly climbed on, sure that if I got very high up I should be able to look down and see where Uncle d.i.c.k was lying.

To this end I toiled higher and higher, till I could fairly consider that I was touching the face of the mountain where the slope of _debris_ began; and I now found that the precipice sloped too, being anything but perpendicular.

"Can you see him, Cob?" cried Uncle Jack from below.

"No," I said despondently.

"Stay where you are," he cried again, "quite still."

That was impossible, for where I stood the shale was so small and loose that I was sliding down slowly; but I made very little noise, and just then Uncle Jack uttered a tremendous--

"d.i.c.k, ahoy!"

There was a pause and he shouted again:

"d.i.c.k, ahoy!"

"Ahoy!" came back faintly from somewhere a long way off.

"There he is!" I cried.

"No--an echo," said Uncle Jack. "Ahoy!"

"Ahoy!" came back.