We pointed out that we were not prepared to cope with this bullet-resisting abomination, our only chance of destroying him being apparently to decoy him within range of our little six-pounder signal gun, and see if that would have any influence with him. We did not know the recesses of the gorge as he did, and should be at a great disadvantage, for he was liable at any moment, if disturbed, to suddenly emerge from round a corner, and, as Mr. Parsons described it, “nip us like bilge rats.” That while we were wasting time discovering a lair which might well be empty, he might recover himself of his wound, and bear down upon the unprepared ship’s company. That for the present he had fed, his wound was smarting, and he was unlikely to follow and overtake us in the open as the Frenchman suggested. And thus after much talk our decision was taken for return.
So down the cañon we retreated hastily, with many backward looks, as you may well imagine, our hearts quaking at the thought of what might happen if we were tracked to the shallowing lake and there trapped in our helplessness. I must own that little Lessaution came out a trump. The agony of his half-dressed wounds must have been great, but he made light of them as veriest pin-pricks, actually laughing over his adventure as the best of jokes against himself. For the pride of our achievement, in finding not only a buried race but an extinct animal also, had lifted him above all considerations of common sense. He revelled in a sort of scientific ecstasy which obliterated all remembrance of the narrowest squeak ever man had from a fate of unimaginable horror. And so he ceased not his happy chatterings for so much as a single instant.
Parsons moaned and groaned respectfully all along the way, referring in dismal undertones to the land of his birth, and the extremely slender probability of his ever seeing the same again, regretting fervently his past treatment of his maternal progenitor, with many fanciful pictures of her emotions could she see the hapless case of the son of her constant sorrow. And he spent so much of his time looking jerkily over his shoulder, as sudden spasms of fear convinced him that we were being pursued, that his falls averaged not less than twenty per mile. Gerry was silent, brooding, as I could understand, over the perils that might be menacing the ship in our absence, and it was a phase of thought which commanded my full sympathy and respect. Denvarre, who is a keen sportsman, whenever Lessaution gave him a chance, discoursed learnedly on rifles, displaying much technical knowledge of initial velocities and expanding bullets, as bearing on the chance of penetrating the monster’s hide. But I fear he lacked an audience. And as the hours slipped by we reached the far end of the gorge, and stumbled out on to the roughnesses of the farther moraine. Here we had to give all the assistance we could to Lessaution, whose useless arm was a terrible handicap to him on such going, and it was with great thankfulness we saw a few hundred yards before us the point at which the boulders ceased, and the smooth going stretched to the shores of our little lake. We reached the corner that screened the ship and the pool from us, and turned it, rounding the jutting rock with eager eyes. As one man we stopped to gape upon the empty foreground. Both ship and lake were gone.
CHAPTER XIII
A CLOSED DOOR
In the morning we had left a pool of clear, shining blue, still as a Thames backwater, and the tall ship resting motionless on its pliant bosom. Every spar and rope had been distinctly outlined and reflected on the gleaming surface, which mirrored the very lines of the cutwater. Now, instead of the soft glitter of the lake laving the foot of the climbing glacier, an empty round of bleak and ice-worn rock confronted us, standing out hard and barren in the red glow of the sunset.
With a yell we raced over the flats of smooth stone to gaze into the hollow shadows where the morning shine of the pool had been. With wide-eyed wonder we gazed down the sloping bank. An extraordinary sight was there displayed.
A huge crack ran across the empty basin of the lake, seaming the granite at its deepest part for a space of about fifty yards. Wedged in the grip of it was the old Racoon, half supported by the nip of the rock, half leaning on the little launch which lay beside her, buttressing her with its funnel and bulwarks. Higher up the slope from us one of her great anchors was caught in a crevice of the rocks, and a hawser was rove from a pulley on the shank of it to the bows of the ship. A group of the crew was hauling at this with chorused shoutings, while astern a like arrangement had been tautened out.
The ship was trembling and wobbling as the thrills of the hawser shook her bows, and the granite edges scored and frayed her timbers as she wrestled in the mouth of the cleft. In another group farther off, the ladies stood upon the still dripping stones to watch the operations, keeping cautiously their distance, in case the ship should lurch over before the ropes had her fast. The bellowings of Waller and the boatswain echoed thunderously across the amphitheatre of stone as they urged the men to renewed efforts.
The unexpected wonder of this sight held us silent for a score of seconds; then Gerry gave expression to the sentiments of the company at large.
“Well, I am damned,” quoth he emphatically.