Chapter Ten.
A human fossil.
“You be blowed!” cried a bluff cheery voice. “Eckers be jiggered! Think I don’t know the difference between a hecker an’ a nail?”
“No.”
“Don’t I? I heered some one holloa, and as I don’t believe in ghosts, I say some one must be here. Ahoy! where are you, mate?”
The speaker turned from his two companions, who were dragging the sledge up the slope of the snow-fall, and then smote one thigh heavily with the palm of his great hand.
“I’m blest!” he shouted, as he ran a few steps and dropped on one knee by Abel’s head. “No, no; don’t give in now, my lad. Hold up, and we’ll soon have you out o’ this pickle. Here, out with shovels and pecks, lads. Here’s a director of the frozen meat company caught in his own trap. Specimen o’ Horsestralian mutton froze hard and all alive O. Here, mate, take a sup o’ this.”
The speaker unscrewed the top of a large flask, and held it to Abel’s lips, trickling a few drops between them as the head fell back and the poor fellow nearly swooned away.
“That’s your sort. Never mind its being strong. I’d put some snow in it, but you’ve had enough of that. Coming round, you are. What’s it been—a heavy ’lanche?”