Presently there was a shock which capped all others, and the ice field stopped. They knew that somewhere below it had become jammed, and that an added peril threatened them, for the river was rising each moment, and if the ice did not overwhelm them it seemed that the flood must. The cakes rocked threateningly, collided together, then stopped, but the jam could not hold them back long.
Stumbling, struggling, striving, Kasba dragged Roy along. They were pitiful sights, these two. Their hands and feet were bleeding, their moccasins had long since worn out, as had the duffles and hose beneath them, and their clothes were cut and torn. Kasba’s dress hung in ribbons and was soaking wet, impeding her movements, while Roy’s knees showed through great holes, the result of many tumbles. Every step he took was an effort, a terrible effort, still he dare not give up and let the girl die, for she would not leave him, he knew.
Slipping and sliding they struggled on.
Presently, to Kasba’s horror, they came to a strait of dark water at least five feet across, while on either hand huge piles of ice cakes blocked their way. The situation was desperate. The girl stopped dead, holding Roy back. “We cannot go on,” she said. “We have come to a very wide crack.” Then she laughed as lightly as if there were no such thing as danger. Roy heard her and understood; she was pretending to be gay in order to make it easier for him.
“How wide is it?” he demanded, steadying his voice with difficulty. The situation was very nerve-racking.
“It is very wide,” returned the girl. “The widest yet. You must not attempt it; you will fall in.”
“I’ll not,” replied Roy with emphasis. “Can you manage it?”
“Yes, Bekothrie,” declared the girl bravely, her voice quite unshaken. Then she laughed again in the same way.
“Well, jump it, then,” said Roy, “and I will follow.”
The girl hesitated a second, then with a coolness that was wonderful she sprang across, but it took all her agility to clear the gap. With a white, set face she stood looking anxiously back at him, across the deep, dark water. “Turn a little to the left, Bekothrie,” she directed. “That will do. Now advance a few steps. Stop! You are now on the edge. Spring straight forward and I will catch you.” The girl braced her feet to receive the shock, while poor, blind Roy bunched his muscles for the effort.