The bears, he felt, would scent their way right up to the spot where he began to climb, and he might slip and fall headlong into their hungry jaws, to be literally chopped up between them as they would chop up a seal.
Another reason was that the bears might, with all their deliberation of movement, prove to be far better climbers than he; and, in addition, supposing they were not, and he got into a safe spot where they could not reach him, might not they sit down patiently to wait, as wild beasts will for their food, till, chilled by the cold and utterly wearied out, he became an easy prey?
That was one of the ideas on which he pondered as he climbed up higher and higher. The other was as to the possibility of his being able to reach the very top of the ravine, high up amongst the snow and ice, where it became blended with the mountain, and, having thus climbed high enough, begin to descend on the other side of the buttress naturally formed by one side of the gully. Then he would at every step be getting nearer and nearer to his friends, who must, he knew, be in search of him.
This was the idea which gave him hope, and sent a thrill of fresh strength through his weary frame. A short time before he could only think of the certainty of the bears running him down at last in their untiring pursuit, as sooner or later, if he were always getting farther from help, they were bound to do. Now he could climb on with a feeling that an end to his sufferings was in sight.
And all this while—how long he could not tell—the bears came steadily on, never faster, never slower, always in the same steady, untiring manner, seeming to be perfectly certain of overtaking their prey after a time; but, as the slope began to grow more steep, so did the progress of pursued and pursuers become slow.
As Steve climbed on, forced by the ruggedness of the path to use his hands more and more frequently, so did the wildness of the defile increase, till, after hours of toil, the patches of snow which he had long reached gave place to a slope of pure white crystals, into which his feet began to sink, making the labour of walking more heavy.
On still, though, plod, plod, till the loose drift was passed as if in a nightmare, and he felt as if his legs were moving mechanically. How long this had been going on he could not tell, for at last the horror of the pursuit had numbed his brain, and he could not think of anything but that he must go on, and that at last he was out of the ravine and away to the right of the ridge, so that at any moment he might begin to descend and get down in another place.
But he could not attempt to descend yet, but must keep on right up into the regions of this eternal snow, where all was silent—a silence which would have filled his mind with awe but for the stunned sensation of utter weariness.
Still there was one flash of hope as he crept on, drawing himself over the ice crags on hands and knees. He had looked back below him at his pursuers, and his heart leaped, for there was only one. At first he could not believe it true, but a second look back confirmed the first impression. One of the bears had given up the pursuit; but the other was as persevering as ever. But it was hopeful, and gave Steve fresh energy; for if one was tired out, it was possible to weary the other.
If he could have begun to descend, he would have done so now; but he dared not attempt it, for not only was the