Dallas nodded, glanced at where the delirious man lay muttering to himself, and then slipped out, and was nearly thrown backward by the rush the dog made to get into the hut; but he held on to the animal’s thick coat till his companions had had time to slip out and the
door was closed, the dog growling his disappointment the while.
“Now,” said Dallas merrily, “which is the block we ought to take?”
There was a heap of hardened snow on either side of the door—a heap composed of roughened blocks, and when the young men had declared their inability to say that one was more likely than another, Tregelly stooped down and rolled the very first one over and over.
“That’s the one,” he said; “but I may as well chip a hundredweight of ice off it. Wait while I get the pick from the side of the shaft, and you may as well keep a sharp look-out with cocked pieces. They might try to rush us.”
Dallas and Abel took the hint, and did better; they sheltered themselves behind the wood heap, ready for any attack that might come; while the dog, now pacified, walked here and there, snuffing about as if scenting danger.
Tregelly was back directly, and by dexterous usage of the pick-axe he soon reduced the heavy block to a more portable size, after which it was secured upon the sledge, and the return journey commenced.
A good look-out was kept, every man walking with his piece ready cocked, for there were plenty of places to be passed where they might well expect to meet with an ambush; but all went well, the ice-block forming but a light load, as the snow was hard beneath their feet.
To make matters easier, Abel kept up well, declaring again and again that he was not tired.