Dick Onslow Among the Redskins

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“I say, Dick,” said Obed to me, “if we want food, we’ll eat that Magog of yours up first.”

That is what Magog got for his surliness and ill-temper.

We continued to push on over the mountain-range. It was not all ascent. Sometimes we came to a level on a wide open space where there was not much snow, and then we got on rapidly. Our only passage through one part of the route was up the bed of a torrent frozen hard and covered with snow. It was very heavy work, but Short assured us that it would not last long, so we pushed on.

Obed, Short, and I, with others, were clearing the way with our spades, when suddenly, without the slightest warning, the two first, who were ahead of me, went right through the ice and disappeared. Horror almost overcame me, for I knew that the torrent would have the power of sweeping them down in an instant far out of our sight. Obed was my greatest friend. Short’s loss to all the party was irreparable. The three other men with me and I shouted to our friends, several of whom had long poles to assist their progress, to hasten to our aid. Fastening four of these together, two and two, I secured a rope round my body, which the others held, and then worked myself forward till I was over the hole. Another rope was made fast to the poles; by this I descended. I was surprised to find the chasm so deep, for I thought that I should see the water rushing down a little below the surface. Instead of that, there was below the hole a hard, very nearly smooth, floor, I lowered myself gently, and found it perfectly firm and strong; but, alas! neither Obed nor Short were to be seen.

Under other circumstances I should have been delighted with the appearance of the place in which I found myself. It was like a magnificent cavern of the purest white marble, ornamented with glass stalactites of the most brilliant rainbow hues. I should call it rather a gallery, because it extended up and down to an indefinite distance. No work of art could be more light or graceful.

But my thoughts were with my friends, and all the beauty which surrounded me seemed only to mock my anxiety for their fate. I heard those above, Laban Ragget and his sons, asking eagerly if I had found them, and I had to answer mournfully, “No.” Still I saw that they could not have gone through the ice into the stream itself, for that everywhere appeared unbroken. Then it struck me that, as the floor was an inclined plane, they had probably slipped down over the smooth surface without meeting anything to stop them. This was a solution of the problem of the cause of their disappearance, but it did not relieve my anxiety as to their fate. I sung out to my friends above to lengthen the rope as far as they could, for I had no inclination to proceed without it, and slid down to as great a distance as its length would allow me to move. I shouted and shouted, but there was no answer. I began truly to despair. “Poor fellows, they must be gone,” I thought. “It will be a sad report I must take to Laban.”

I began to ascend to get under the hole again. I found that I could easily crawl up the incline on hands and knees. I turned to rest for an instant, and thought that I would give one shout more. There was a roaring, rumbling noise of the water underneath, which made it necessary to sing out very sharply to be heard at any distance. I therefore shrieked out this time at the very top of my voice.

A few instants passed while the echoes died away, and then a faint cry came up from far, far down the long ice gallery. It was repeated. There could be no doubt that it was from my friends. I waited to consider whether I should return and get others to come down with more ropes, so that should Short and Obed have fallen into an ice-pit, we might help them out; or whether it was best to wait and see if they were working their own way up, as I found from experience they might be able to do. It was while thus waiting for them that I was able to admire the beauty of the scene. The floor was dark blue, the sides were white, and the ceiling was of every variety of green and red and yellow, and in some places so transparent that it seemed surprising that any person, much less a horse or sleigh, could have passed over it without breaking through; then there were in the distance arches and columns, and whole buildings and statues, of every grotesque form imaginable, at least so my imagination carved out the excrescences and masses of ice I saw piled up in a long vista before me. I did not stay long without shouting again, and once more the voices of my friends assured me that they were drawing near. My heart was now much lighter, and at length I caught sight of their heads as they crawled up like two four-footed creatures in the distance. I was truly glad when they got up to me; they had been, they owned, not slightly alarmed, and were, they showed, very tired and out of breath.

On breaking through the ice, the impetus they got sent them sliding down the sloping floor at so great a rate that they could not stop themselves. On, on they went, not knowing when their journey would end; but dreading that it might be into some deep hole, or perhaps the torrent itself. They were well pleased, therefore, when they were brought up suddenly against a mass of rock which rose out of the bed of the stream; and doubly grateful were they when, on looking beyond it, they saw that on the other side there was a deep fall through which the water itself was forcing its way.

We were all soon dragged up again to the surface, and though I described the magnificence of the icy gallery, no one seemed inclined to pay it a visit. We had now to drag our sleighs up a steep bank, and to proceed with the greatest caution, our progress being very slow. At last we once more got on level ground, and soon reached a long narrow lake, out of which the torrent descended. This accounted for there being water under the ice. Many of the torrents we came to were frozen completely through.