They discussed it for some minutes, partly because it furnished an excuse for sitting upon the sled, though none of them had much doubt as to the result of the council. It was unthinkable that they should sacrifice a scrap of the provisions. Then, when each man had lashed a light load upon his shoulders with a portion of the cut-up traces, they set out again, and it rained upon them heavily all that day.
During the four following days they were buffeted by a furious wind, but the temperature had risen, and the snow was melting fast, and splashing knee-deep through slush and water they made progress. While he stumbled along with the pack-straps galling his shoulders, Wyllard was conscious of little beyond the unceasing pain in his joints and the leaden heaviness of his limbs; but the recollection of that march haunted him like a horrible nightmare long afterwards, when each sensation and incident emerged from the haze of numbing misery. He remembered that he stormed at and almost fought with Charly, who lagged behind now and then in a fit of languid dejection, and that once he fell heavily, and was sensible of a certain half-conscious regret that he was still capable of going on when the Indian dragged him to his feet again. They rarely spoke to one another, and noticed nothing beyond the strip of white waste, through which uncovered brown patches commenced to break, immediately in front of them, except when they crossed some low elevation and looked down upon the stretch of dull grey water not far away on one hand. The breeze, at least, had swept the ice away, and that was reassuring, because it meant that Dampier would be at the inlet when they reached it, though now and then a horrible fear that their strength would fail them or their provisions run out first crept in.
Their faces had already grown gaunt and haggard, and each scanty meal had been further cut down to the smallest portion which would keep life and power of movement within them. Still, though the weight of it hampered him almost intolerably, Wyllard clung to the one rifle that they had saved from the disaster at the landing and a dozen cartridges. This was a folly which he and Charly had once virulent words about.
At length they came one evening to a river which flowed across their path, and lay down beside it, feeling that the end was not far away. Except in the eddies and shallows, the ice had broken up, and the stream swirled by between in raging flood, thick with heavy masses which it had brought down from its higher reaches. They crashed upon the gleaming spurs that here and there projected from the half-thawn fringe, and smashed with a harsh crackling among the boulders, and there was no doubt as to what would befall the stoutest swimmer who might attempt the passage. So far as Wyllard afterwards remembered, none of them said anything when they lay down among the wet stones, but with the first of the daylight they started up stream. The river was not a large one, and it seemed just possible that they might find a means of crossing higher up, though they afterwards admitted that this was a good deal more than they expected.
During the afternoon the ground rose sharply, and the stream flowed out of a deep ravine which they followed. The rocks, as far as Wyllard could remember, were of volcanic origin, and some of them had crumbled into heaps of ragged debris. The slope of the ravine became a talus it was almost impossible to scramble along, and they were forced back upon the boulders and the half-thawn ice in the slacker pools.
Still, they made some progress, and when evening drew near found a little clearer space between rock and river. The Indian had in the meanwhile wrenched his foot or knee, and when at length they stopped to make camp among the rocks it was some little time before he overtook them. Then he said that he had found the slot of some animal which he fancied had gone up the ravine. What the beast was he did not seem to know, but he assured them that it was, at least, large enough to eat, and that appeared to be of the most importance then. He would not, however, take the rifle. Nothing would compel him to drag himself another rod that night, he said, and the others, who had noticed how he limped, accepted his statement. He sat down among the stones with an expressionless face, and Charly decided that it was Wyllard's part to try to pick up the trail.
"You could beat me every time at trailing or shooting when we went ashore on the American side, and I'm not sorry to let it go at that now," he said.
Wyllard smiled very grimly, "And I've carried this rifle a week on top of my other load. You can't shoot when you're dead played out."
Then they called in the Indian and left it to him, and saying nothing he gravely pointed to Wyllard.
Charly grinned for the first time in several days.