CHAPTER XVI
THE CREVASSE
"Look here!" exclaimed Leslie. "Petrovitch must either have crossed or missed this crevasse somewhere. We're converging upon the route which he took previous to our finding him. Why not ask him if he recognises any of the landmarks?"
In very halting, schoolboy French the lads questioned the stalwart Russian. Petrovitch replied that, so far as he was aware, he crossed no crevasse, but if the sleigh kept parallel with the dangerous stretch of ice for a few miles, he might be able to identify his former route.
"Let her rip, old man!" exclaimed Guy, as he took up his position at the steering wheel.
Almost at right angles to her previous course, the Bird of Freedom glided rapidly over the smooth, firm ice, Guy keeping a sharp look-out, especially towards the sinister, concealed crevasse on his left.
Suddenly Petrovitch grasped the lad by the shoulder.
"Here is our route!" he exclaimed. "I recognise that rock shaped like a dog's head."
"Then you must have crossed the crevasse without knowing it," declared Guy. "See, it still continues in this direction."
The Russian shrugged his shoulders.