Dillon took Gillane's post, the sergeant took Jimmy's, and they pushed on. By and by the mist rolled down and hid the pitches below, but, now all knew where they went, the gloom vanished and slack muscles were braced. For all that, when they reached the snow-field Deering looked to the west and frowned.
"The light's going and the trees are a long way off," he said. "Mush along, boys. You have got to get there!"
In places the snow was loose and to get forward was hard. Jimmy pushed Stevens for some distance and they were forced to stop for a young police trooper. On some pitches the snow was hard and slippery, and rocks with icy tops broke the surface. Dark crept up from the valley and the trees were behind the ground in front. Yet from the daunting gully they had looked down across the vast white slope and the picture that melted like the mist led them on. Ahead were rest and food and warmth. At length, two or three hours after dark, Dillon stumbled and rolled in the snow.
"Watch out for the juniper I ran up against," he shouted. "Keep going! This trail's for the woods!"
Half an hour afterwards Jimmy threw off his pack and leaned against a spruce. The ground was steep and stony, but rows of small trunks cut the glimmering snow. All round was fuel and one could build a shelter and eat hot food. He thrilled and the blood came to his frozen skin. They had run daunting risks and borne all flesh and blood could bear, but the strain was done with. They had made it!
XXXII
BY THE CAMP-FIRE
In the timber the cold was not very keen and the tired men braced themselves for the effort to pitch camp. Peter and the sergeant took control and soon a big fire burned behind a wall of branches. Against the wall twigs and thin branches were packed for beds. Where the bushman can find fuel and material for building he does not bother about the frost, and in winter the Royal North-West patrols sleep by their camp-fires far out on the snowy wilds.
A trooper fried pork and doughy bannocks, Deering brewed a kettle of strong tea, and when all had eaten like famished animals the men, for the most part, went to sleep. For a time, however, Deering, the sergeant, and Jimmy sat by the fire and smoked.
On the mountains, they were absorbed by the stern physical effort, and concentrated mechanically on getting down. Animal instinct urged them forward, but now the risk of freezing was gone, they began to think like men. The sergeant and Jimmy were puzzled and imagined they might get some light from Deering. Jimmy's brows were knit and when he looked about he frowned. Although he was warm and the hot tea had revived him, he felt his brain was dull.