So, usually, while the boys were floundering through a deep deposit of fresh snow, they were able to see, ahead of them, the trail where it passed over the old hard snow of former years. In that way they were enabled to keep the general direction of the road, though they were sometimes off it, in deeper snow than ever. At such times when they left the trail, they frequently plunged down into soft snow that was above their waists, and were obliged to make a desperate effort to get back on the hard foundation.
Such traveling would have been sufficiently difficult if the boys had been unencumbered, and with the packs they were carrying it was extremely exhausting. Once or twice, when Raymond stepped off into loose snow, he was obliged to wait for Sidney’s help before he could get back. Sometimes, when the boys sank down in that way, they would loosen their blanket rolls, and throw them up, thus being enabled to crawl out without help.
All that occupied much time, besides taking the strength of the struggling boys, and the sun sank behind the western peaks and they were still not out of that cañon. Then, too, as they constantly climbed to higher elevations, and the trail approached the upper end of the ravine, it was less exposed to the wind and was more evenly covered with snow. So, finally, the boys labored through deep snow without any intervals of good road, and could only with difficulty keep the trail at all.
For what seemed to the boys hours they toiled on and up, without conversation, except when one of them briefly requested aid from the other. All their breath was needed for the work they were doing, with none left for talk. Sidney was a little taller than his brother, and in deep snow that gave him great advantage. Then, being older, he was more solid and more closely knit, consequently he possessed greater endurance. So it was generally his lot to pull Raymond out of holes.
When they missed the road and got up on the glacier by mistake, Raymond had thought he was not equal to much more, but with pure nerve he kept to the work, and for a long time said nothing more about being tired. At first the fear of another avalanche had been an incentive to keep forging ahead. As they ascended, however, and neared the summit of the range, they gradually rose level with, or above, the overhanging cliffs from which snow-slides were likely to start, and were relieved of that fear.
But there may be a limit to the endurance of even a gritty boy, and Raymond began to feel that he was really at the end of his rope. The day had been extremely arduous, and it had been preceded by many days of hard work, with barely a sufficiency of food. The boy finally stopped, standing in the deep snow, and gazed up at the summit above them.
The snow-squalls had ceased and the clouds had cleared away. The sun, which was out of sight behind the western peaks, still shone on the crests, and turned all their white covering to a glorious rosy pink. That beauty was lost on Raymond, however, for all he could think of was the distance that remained. It was not far,—indeed, it seemed very near,—but every step was through deep snow, and all vestige of a trail had disappeared.
“Sid!” called Raymond to his brother, who was a few steps ahead, and his voice hardly carried the short distance.
Sidney stopped and looked back.
“I don’t believe I can go any farther, Sid.”