CHAPTER X.--SO POOR CONAL MUST PERISH!
Duncan was first to the fore in the morning. He touched Captain Talbot lightly on the shoulder, and he awoke at once.
It took a whole series of shakings, however, to arouse Conal. He had been dreaming of his far-off Highland home, and when he did at last sit up and rub his eyes, it took him fully a minute to know where he was in particular.
Well, while the men prepared a simple breakfast of coffee, sardines, butter, and soft tack, the skipper and the boys left the cave and went in for as thorough ablution as was in their power at the snow-water rill. They felt infinitely refreshed thereafter; a large box of sardines, placed for discussion before each, disappeared almost magically, for bracing indeed was the breeze that blew high up on this dreary mountain.
And now, the sun being well up, climbing was resumed.
Only about two thousand feet more remained to be discussed, but this formed the toughest climb of all. For not only was the breeze now high and the gradient steep, but the cold was intense, while breathing was far from easy.
Indeed, although an ascent of ten to twelve thousand feet may not be considered a tall record for accomplished club-men in the Alpine regions of Europe, it would be a terrible undertaking for even those among the perpetual snows of the Antarctic.
It needed not only all the strength, but even all the courage that our heroes were possessed of, to finally succeed. For in many parts a single slip might have precipitated three of them at least into chasms or over precipices that were too fearful even to think of.
Indeed, several such slips did occur, but luckily the ropes held, and the 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 of ice-rocks, and the labour in such cases five times as fatiguing, and happy they felt, on every such occasion, when they found themselves on a plateau.
"Whatever a man dares he can do!"
The grand old motto of, I believe, the clan Cameron; but many a man of a different 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 long last with their comrades on the very summit of Mount Terror, and on the brink 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--the regions of despair?
Duncan was the first to volunteer. The others followed suit with one exception.
What a gulf! It must have been acres in extent, and fully one thousand feet in depth. The precipices that formed its sides were at times even black and sheer; in some places overhanging, and in others sloping so that one might have tobogganed down into the regions of perpetual fire. Not everywhere down yonder, however, were flames visible. It was more a collection of boiling, bubbling cauldrons, emitting jets of sulphurous smoke, the surface of the molten lava being continually crossed by flickering tongues of flame, transcendently beautiful.
Right in the centre was an irregular gaping mouth, and from this smoke now and then arose, accompanied by hurtling horrible thunders that made our strong-hearted heroes quiver. Not with fear, I shall not go so far as that, but no one could tell at what moment an eruption might take place.
To Duncan's waist the rope had been made fast, else he never would have ventured 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 others had done. "Fegs! no. It is faint I would entoirely, and faint and fall over. Bedad! I've no raison to go to such a place as that before my time."
Captain Talbot now proceeded to take his observations. His aneroid told him, to begin with, that the mountain was more nearly twelve than eleven thousand feet above the sea-level. Piercingly cold though it was, he took time to make a note of everything. But I should not have used the word "cold". This is far from descriptive of the lowness of temperature experienced, for the spirit thermometer stood at 40° below zero.
It was now four o'clock in the afternoon, and all hands were almost exhausted from fatigue. But Talbot was not so foolish as to give them stimulants. This would only have resulted in a sleepy or partially comatose state of the brain, and an accident would assuredly have followed.
"Now, men, we have seen all there is to see, and I've taken my observations, so it is time we were getting down again to our sheltering cave, in which we shall pass one night more. But we can say that we have been the first to ascend this mighty mountain, and human feet have never before traversed the ground on which you now are standing.
"See here," he continued, suiting the action to the word, "I place this little flag--the British ensign--and though storms may rend it, this mountain, and all the land and country around, shall evermore belong to us."
He handed the still-extended telescope to Duncan as he spoke and pointed to the south.
No open sea there! But the roughest, wildest kind of snow-clad country anyone could well imagine. Yet, far far away, the jagged peaks of many a mountain rose high on the horizon.
And now "God save the Queen", was sung, and the very crater itself seemed to echo back the wild cheers that rose high on the evening air.
Solemn and serious all must be now however, for although the descent would not occupy so much time, it was quite as fraught with peril as the coming up had been, and even more so.
The rope was constantly kept taut, however, on every extra dangerous position, 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 and beautiful--nay, but fairy-like cave--it was almost nil.
Never did brave and weary travellers enjoy a supper more. So sure were they of reaching their ship next day, that they gave themselves some extra indulgences, and tins of mock-turtle soup were warmed and eaten with 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 and land.
Bed at last, if one may call it a bed, with only the hard rock to lie upon, and a rug wherein to wrap one's-self, curled up like a ferret to retain all the warmth of the body. For sleeping-bags had been left behind after all.
What though subterranean thunders roared far beneath them many times and oft during the night, they heard them not, so doubly soundly did they sleep.
There is always one thing to be said concerning adventures of a very dangerous character, namely, that though kept up by excitement, we may not be sorry to enter into them, and go through with them, too, like Britons bold and true, still we are rather glad than otherwise when they are over.
Our heroes awoke next morning, therefore, betimes, and squatted down to breakfast, hungry and happy enough. Would they not soon be back once more on their brave barque, to tell their comrades of all their strange experiences?
It is doubtless a good thing for us that we are not prescient, else thinking of troubles to come would cast a gloom over everyone's life that nothing could banish.
Little did these officers and men of the Flora M'Vayne, as they resumed their downward journey, know of the trouble before them.
They had reached the very last crevasse, and were in full view of the ship, although at least five thousand feet above it, when an accident occurred 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 was precipitated into the chasm.
And with it fell Conal!
The skipper and Duncan had held the rope taut, but it snapped as if it had been made of straw.
Luckily, although the wretched boy fell sheer down only a distance of about fifty feet, the rest he slid on loose pieces of ice and snow.
On referring to the log-book of Captain Talbot, which lies on my table before me, the abyss or ice-crevasse is stated to have been about two hundred feet in depth. And there was no outlet.
Nor any apparent means of saving the poor fellow, for although his companions would gladly have hurried to the ship for assistance they could not cross that ice-ravine, nor could they retreat for want of a plank.
So, poor Conal must perish!
————
It was about two bells in the first watch, and Frank with faithful Vike was walking to and fro on the quarter-deck.
He had a telescope under his arm, and every now and then he directed it to the far-off mountain, adown which he had observed his shipmates streaming since ever they had arrived on the easternmost side of Mount Terror.
How well named!
So good was the glass that he could count them as he came, and even make out their forms. Duncan's was stalwart and easily seen, Conal's lither far 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 and lowered across the abyss, and noticed that it was Conal's light form that 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 fearful accident, and Conal is killed."
As if hoping against hope, both he and the mate counted the number on the 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, and that was to get up and despatch a party to the rescue as soon as day should once more break.
Had they been ready they should have started at once. But Frank had a good head on his shoulders for one so young, and in a matter of life and death like this he was right in considering well what had best be done.
Of course he consulted with the mate, and he immediately suggested a rope of many, many fathoms in length.
"Doubtless," he said, "poor Conal is dead, or if stunned he will speedily freeze to death, but we would be all unwilling to sail away and leave the poor bruised body in the terrible crevasse."
"Have we rope enough on board to be of real service?" asked Frank in a voice broken with emotion.
"Bless you, yes, my boy, fifty fathoms of manilla, light, but strong enough 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 that several 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, soon after the crimson and orange glory of the sky heralded the approach of the 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. He was British all over, and brave because he was British. His dearest friend, Conal, lay stark and stiff in that fearful ice-gap; he would be one of the first to help the poor bruised body to bank, ay, and bedew it with tears which it would be impossible to restrain.
————
It had been an anxious and sad night for those on the hill. They could until sunset see the wretched Conal in that darksome crevasse, and they did all they could do, for they made up a bundle of rugs with plenty of provisions enclosed and hurled it down.
Strangely enough, he could talk to those on the hillside, and they to him, without elevating their voices.
They bade him be of good cheer, for signals from the Flora told them that preparations for rescue were already being made.
Frank's march across the great snow plains was a forced one, but an hour's rest and a good meal was indispensable before the ascent could be attempted.
Perhaps no mountain was ever climbed more speedily by men in any country. 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.