“There is enough biscuit to keep us alive for a couple of days,” replied Abel. “Let us chance getting out, and not stop to encumber ourselves with more provisions.”
“It is risky, but I fancy that I am getting nearer the air. Go up and try yourself.”
Abel went up the sloping tunnel to the top with ease, Dallas having clipped steps out of the ice, and after breathing hard for a few minutes the younger man came down.
“You must be getting nearer the top. I can breathe quite freely there.”
“Yes, and the snow is not so hard.”
“Chance it, then, and go on digging,” said Abel eagerly. “I will get the snow away. I can manage so much more easily if I may put it down anywhere. It gets trampled with my coming and going.”
Dallas crept up to his task once more and toiled away, till, utterly worn out, both made another meal and again slept.
Twice over this was repeated, and all idea of time was lost; still they worked on, cheered by the feeling that they must be nearing liberty. However, the plan arranged proved impossible in its entirety, the rock bulging out in a way which drove the miner to entirely alter the direction of his sap. But the snow hour after hour grew softer, and the difficulty of cutting less, till all at once, as Dallas struck with his spade, it went through into a cavity, and a rush of cool air came into the sloping tunnel.
“Heavenly!” cried the worker, breathing freely now. “I’ll slip down, Bel. You must come up and have a mouthful of this.”
He descended to the bottom, and Abel took the spade and went to his place.