“Ray!” he said, but there was no response.
He stooped and raised Raymond’s head. The boy’s face was very white and his eyes were closed.
“Ray! Ray!” called Sidney beseechingly, but Raymond did not hear, and when Sidney released his head it dropped forward on his chest.
Sidney stood up and looked about him in a panic. The setting sun still illumined the summit that was so short a distance above him. But everywhere between was deep snow and no trail. If there were only a trail, Sidney thought, he would take Raymond on his back and carry him to the top. It would be like a labor of Hercules, but he believed he could do it. Without a trail, however, and with deep snow to walk through, such a thing was plainly impossible.
He looked down on Raymond, who lay in the snow just as he had dropped, and realized that if he did not do something promptly the fainting boy would become so cold that nothing could revive him. And yet, what could he do? They had gone far above the timber-line, and there was not a shrub or tree in sight, nothing to make a fire for warmth. And there was, apparently, no refuge from the snow that covered all the rocks, the snow that was likely to freeze them both. That, then, would be the end of their desperate attempt to reach home, and their mother, who was waiting in New York, and their father in a Russian prison, would never know what had become of them.
CHAPTER XVII
AN ARCTIC CAMP
When Sidney looked around and saw only a desolate Arctic waste, with no haven from the bleak exposure, his strength and courage suddenly went from him and he sank down in the snow by his brother’s side. The piercing cold remorselessly bit through his clothes and sucked all his vitality. But as he crouched in the snow, the relief of repose was so great that he thought, languidly, he would rest there with Raymond, and escape the terrific struggle for a time. He was rapidly becoming numbed by the cold, and was lapsing into a somnolent state that felt neither inconvenience nor pain.
Then, with a mental wrench, Sidney’s thoughts reverted to his brother’s condition, and he remembered that when Raymond fell he had determined that he must do something immediately to restore him. That thought gave to his brain the fillip that was necessary to set his mind at work again, and he struggled to his feet and looked around at Raymond. The sight of the boy, huddled helplessly in the snow, brought a complete realization of their peril, and he became once more alert. By stamping his feet and threshing his arms he restored a tingling circulation, and began to feel equal to further effort.
When Sidney examined his surroundings more carefully than he had done in his first fright, he saw, not far away, a break in a snowy cliff. What had before appeared to be only a bit of rock exposed through the snow seemed then to promise a space back of the white mantle. With careful steps he waded over to the spot, and found, to his joy, that there was really a shelter ready for them. A shelving cliff projected a few feet beyond its base, and that projection had prevented the snow from drifting in quite to the rock at the bottom. There was a space of bare ground some three or four feet wide, and, what was more important, there were small shrubs growing all along at the base of the cliff.