alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第39章

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〃
　
　〃I　don't　know。　I　think　I'd　better　find　out。〃　Twice　while　we　had　been　talking　Balto　had　left　us；　vanished　into　the　snow；　and　returned　after　a　few　minutes：　he　seemed　restless；　uneasy。　〃I　won't　be　long。〃
　
　He　rose；　followed　Balto　into　the　darkness；　returned　in　a　short　time：　〃e　and　see　this；　Dr　Mason。〃
　
　〃This'　was　a　spot　less　than　a　hundred　yards　away；　close　into　the　side　of　the　glacier　valley。　Jackstraw　flashed　his　torch　on　to　the　snow…dusted　ice。　I　stooped；　made　out　a　black　circular　patch　on　the　ground　and；　a　few　feet　away；　a　smaller　discoloured　area　where　the　surface　snow　had　frozen　solid。
　
　〃Oil　from　the　gearcase　or　sump；　water　from　the　radiator；〃　Jackstraw　said　briefly。　He　altered　the　torch…beam。　〃And　you　can　still　see　the　crimp　marks　of　the　caterpillars。〃
　
　〃And　very　recent？〃　I　suggested。　The　drifting　snow；　the　scouring　effect　of　the　flying　ice…particles　had　scarcely　begun　to　obliterate　the　traces　left　by　the　treads。
　
　〃I　think　so。　And　they　were　stopped　here　a　long　time；　Dr　Mason…look　at　the　size　of　that　oil　patch。〃
　
　〃Mechanical　trouble？〃　I　hazarded。　I　didn't　really　believe　it　myself。
　
　〃Riding　out　the　storm…Corazzini　must　have　been　blind；〃　Jackstraw　said　definitely。　〃If　the　engine　had　stopped　on　that　pair；　they'd　never　have　got　it　started　again。〃
　
　I　knew　he　was　right。　Neither　Smallwood　nor　Corazzini　had　shown　any　mechanical　ability　at　all；　and　I　was　convinced　that　it　had　been　no　act。
　
　〃Perhaps　they　were　still　here　when　we　arrived　back　there？　My　God；　if　we'd　only　carried　on　another　hundred　yards！〃
　
　〃Spilt　milk；　as　you　say；　Dr　Mason。　Yes；　I'm　sure　they　were　here　then。〃
　
　〃We　wouldn't　have　heard　their　engine？〃
　
　〃Not　in　this　wind。〃
　
　〃Jackstraw！〃　A　sudden　thought；　a　flash　of　hope。　〃Jackstraw；　did　you　sleep　back　there？〃
　
　〃No。〃
　
　〃How　long　were　we　stopped？〃
　
　〃Half　an　hour；　maybe　less。〃
　
　〃And　you　think　they　were　still　here…Good　God；　man；　they　can't　be　more　than　a　mile　away。　The　wind's　dropping　right　away；　it's　getting　colder　and　we'll　only　freeze　to　death　if　we　stay　here；　maybe　there'll　be　crevasses　on　the　glacier　to　hold　them　up…〃
　
　I　was　already　on　my　way；　running；　slipping；　stumbling；　Jackstraw　by　my　side；　Balto　leading　the　way。　Zagero　was　standing　up；　waiting…and　the　young　German　girl　by　his　side。
　
　〃Helene！〃　I　caught　her　hands。　〃You　all　right？　How　are　you　feeling？〃
　
　〃Better；　much　better。〃　She　didn't　sound　all　that　much　better。　〃I'm　sorry　I　was　so　silly；　Dr　Mason。　I　don't　know…〃
　
　〃It　doesn't　matter；〃　I　cut　in；　rather　brusquely。　〃You　can　walk？　Fine；　fine。〃　I　could　feel　new　hope　surging　through　me　as　I　rapped　out　a　brief　explanation　to　Zagero；　within　a　minute　we　had　Mahler　and　Marie　LeGarde　bundled　aboard　the　sledge　and　were　on　our　way。
　
　But　the　hope　was　short…lived。　We　made　the　best　speed　we　could；　at　times　breaking　into　a　kind　of　staggering　run；　but　the　sledge　slowed　us　up　terribly　on　that　uneven　surface　of　the　glacier。　Once　it　overturned；　throwing　both　Mahler　and　Marie　LeGarde　heavily　on　to　the　snow；　and　after　that　we　were　forced　to　slow　down。　Another　such　violent　capsizing；　or　even　too　severe　a　jolting；　and　that　sledge　would　bee　a　bier。　From　time　to　time　Jackstraw　flashed　his　failing　torch　on　the　crimp　marks　we　were　following；　and　even　to　my　inexperienced　eye　it　was　obvious　that　the　tracks　in　the　snow　were　being　progressively　fainter　every　time　we　looked　at　them　until　the　time　came　at　last　when　I　knew　we　must　call　a　halt　to　this　pursuit；　admit　defeat：　we　had　fallen　so　far　behind　now；　three　or　four　miles　I　was　certain；　that　the　hope　and　chance　of　overtaking　them　no　longer　existed：　we　were　only　chasing　a　hopeless　dream；　and　killing　ourselves　doing　it。
　
　Jackstraw　and　Zagero　agreed。　We　put　Helene　aboard　the　sledge　to　steady　the　two　sick　people；　took　a　trace　apiece　over　our　shoulders　and　plodded　on　slowly　down　the　glacier；　backs　bent；　heads　bowed；　each　one　of　us　lost　in　his　own　hopeless　thoughts。
　
　As　Jackstraw　had　prophesied；　the　storm　had　blown　itself　out。　pletely。　The　wind　had　gone　so　that　not　a　breath　stirred　across　the　glacier。　The　snow　had　vanished；　with　the　dark　and　heavy　clouds　that　had　carried　it：　the　white　stars　stood　high　in　a　dark　and　frozen　sky。　It　was　cold；　with　a　temperature　well　below　zero；　but　cold　was　an　old　friend　now。　By　eight　o'clock　that　morning；　some　three　hours　and　six　miles　after　we　had　left　our　resting　place；　the　conditions　for　travel　were　perfect。
　
　The　weather　conditions；　that　was…underfoot；　they　varied　from　the　indifferent　to　the　abominable。　We　were　now　fairly　into　the　Kangalak　glacier　and　the　going　was　often　difficult　indeed。　A　glacier　is　seldom　a　smooth　river　of　ice　that　flows　evenly　down…hill；　but　much　more　frequently　an　irregularly　surfaced　fissured　and　crevassed　mass　descending　as　often　as　not　in　a　series　of　rounded　steps　and　ledges　like　a　sea　of　petrified　lava。　The　Kangalak　was　no　exception。　Here　and　there　we　found　some　straight　stretches；　but；　for　the　most　part；　progress　was　possible　only　at　the　sides　where　the　rate　of　flow　was　less　and　the　ice　smoother。　It　was　the　left…hand　side　that　we　were　following；　but　even　so　it　was　heavy　work；　for　our　path　was　frequently　blocked　by　the　debris　of　ground　moraines　that　had　been　forced　out　on　the　sides；　and　when　these　were　absent　we　were　as　often　as　not　floundering　through　the　thick　drifts　that　the　great　wind　of　the　night　just　gone　had　piled　up　high　against　the　sides。　The　one　consolation　I　found　was　that　if　it　were　difficult　for　us；　it　was　proving　doubly　so　for　the　tractor　whose　irregularly　weaving　twisting　crimp　marks　we　were　so　doggedly　following。
　
　I　wondered　how　far　away　Hillcrest　and　the　Sno…Cat　were。　I　was　as　certain　as　I　could　be　of　anything　that　he　would　have　headed　due　west　as　soon　as　he　would　have　emerged　from　the　Vindeby　Nunataks；　and　he'd　had　time　and　to　spare　to　make　the　coast　by　this　time…not　even　the　blizzard　of　last　night　could　have　stopped　the　Sno…Cat；　the　engine　was　a　pletely　enclosed　unit；　its　great　caterpillars　would　take　it　over　the　loosest；　the　most　newly　fallen　snow。　But　even　had　he　backed　his　hunches　and　headed　for　the　coast；　as　I　hoped；　he　might　still　be　anything　up　to　twenty　miles　to　the　north　or　south　of　us；　or　he　might　be　not　only　north　or　south　but　fifteen　miles　ahead　of　us…we　had　no　maps　left　but　I　was　fairly　certain　we　were　about　that　distance　from　the　coast。　Or　was　it　possible　that　Hillcrest；　a　shrewd　and　thoughtful　man；　might　have　thought　the　gambit　of　a　break　for　the　coast　too　obvious　a　move？　Could　it　not　be　that　he　might　have　indeed　pressed　on　for　Uplavnik；　or　even　turned　due　north　after　he　had　e　through　the　hills？　Or；　if　he　were　ing　west；　would　he　not　perhaps　be　driving　in　a　search　pattern；　quartering　the　ground　between　the　Vindeby　Nunataks　and　the　coast　in　a　series　of　wide　advancing　zigzags？　If　that　were　so；　he　might　still　be　anything　up　to　thirty　miles　behind。　It　was　infuriating　beyond　measure　to　know　that　he　was　almost　certainly　within　two　or　three　hours'　driving　time　from　where　we　were；　but　without　a　wireless　or　any　other　means　of　contacting　him　he　might　as　well　have　been　a　thousand　miles　away　for　any　hope　there　was　of　two　tiny　moving　objects　encountering　each　other　by　chance　in　that　vast　and　featureless　land。
　
　Soon　after　eight　o'clock　in　the　morning　I　stopped　to　have　a　look　at　the　two　sick　people　on　the　sledge；　professional　instinct；　I　suppose；　but　an　empty　token　gesture：　there　was　nothing　we　could　do　for　them；　except　give　massage　at　frequent　intervals。　The　sound　of　Mahler's　dyspnoea；　his　whooping　gasping　breathing；　was　the　tolling　of　a　death…bell　to　our　ears；　and　this　effort　to　breathe　was　extinguishing　the　last　embers　of　life　in　his　emaciated　and　frozen　body。　In　three　hours'　time；　by　noon　at　the　latest；　Mahler　would　be　dead。　Nothing　could　ever　save　him　now；　it　was　madness；　an　utterly　wasted　effort　to　continue　to　drag　him　along　on　a　sledge：　he　was　past　caring　or　knowing　or　feeling　now；　he　could　die　just　as　peacefully　if　we　left　him　lying　on　the　glacier。　Or　so　I　have　thought　since　then。　But　Mahler　was　more　than　a　man　to　us　that　day；　he　was　a　symbol：　we　would　leave　Mahler　when　he　had　drawn　his　last　gasping　breath；　but　never　before。
　
　Marie　LeGarde　was　dying　too；　but　quietly；　softly；　peacefully；　like　a　little　candle　flame　flickering　to　extinction。　Maybe　she　would　go　first；　maybe　Mahler。　But　both　of　them　would　die　this　day。
　
　The　going　was　being　increasingly　difficult　now；　not　so　much　because　of　the　gradually　steepening　slope　of　the　glacier　which　made　the　sledge　overrun　us　more　and　more　frequently；　but　because　of　the　fact　that　Jackstraw's　torch　had　all　but　pletely　given　out；　and　the　fissures　and　crevasses　that；　earlier；　had　merely　been　nuisances　to　be　negotiated；　now　became　menaces　to　be　avoided　at　the　cost　of　our　lives。　It　was　now　that　Balto　proved　of　his　greatest　value　yet：　as　Jackstraw　had　said　on　our　first　day　out　from　the　IGY　cabin；　the　big　Siberian　had　an　uncanny　nose　for　crevasses；　both　open　and　hidden；　in　daytime　or　dark；　and　he　made　never　a　mistake　that　morning；　constantly　running　ahead　and　then　back　towards　us　to　guide　us　in　the　safest　direction。　Even　so；　progress　was　heartbreakingly　slow。
　
　Shortly　after　half…past　eight　in　the　morning　we　came　across　the　tractor　sled　lying　at　an　angle　against　a　moraine。　Even　in　the　near　darkness　it　was　plain　to　see　what　had　happened。　The　steepness　of　the　glacier；　not　to　mention　sudden　unaccountable　dips　to　left　and　right　across　its　width；　must　have　made　the　heavy　sled　a　dangerous　liability；　for；　from　its　tracks；　we　had　several　times　seen　where　it　had　slewed　wildly　at　an　angle；　pivoting　round　on　its　iron　tow…bar　as；　brakeless；　it　had　sought　to　overrun　the　tractor。　Obviously；　Smallwood　and　Corazzini　must　have　feared…and　with　reason　…that　on　one　of　these　occasions　it　would　pull　round　the　tail　of　the　tractor　after　it　and　topple　the　tractor　on　its　side；　or；　worse；　drag　it　into　a　crevasse：　so　they　had　unhooked　the　tow…bar　and　left　the　sled。
　
　It　was　surprising　that　they　hadn't　done　this　earlier：　apart　from　carrying　their　fuel　and　food；　which　reserves　could　easily　have　gone　into　the　tractor　cabin　itself；　it　had　been　a　useless　encumbrance　to　them。　As　far　as　I　could　judge　they　had　abandoned　it　with　all　its　contents…apart；　of　course；　from　the　portable　radio…including　the　wraps　we　had　given　Zagero　and　Levin　when　they　had　ridden　on　it　at　the　point　of　a　gun。　We　took　these；　tucked　them　round　Mahler　and　Marie　LeGarde　and　passed　on。
　
　Three　hundred　yards　later　I　stopped　so　abruptly；　that　the　sledge；　bumping　into　me；　made　me　lose　my　footing　on　the　slippery　ice。　I　stood　up；　laughing　softly；　laughing　for　the　first　time　for　days；　and　Zagero　came　up　close　and　peered　into　my　face。
　
　〃What　gives；　Doc？〃
　
　I　laughed　again　and　was　just　on　the　point　of　speaking　when　his　hand　struck　me　sharply　across　the　face。
　
　〃Cut　it　out；　Doc。〃　His　voice　was　harsh。　〃That　ain't　goin'　to　help　us　any。〃
　
　〃On　the　contrary；　it's　going　to　help　us　a　very　great　deal。〃　I　rubbed　a　hand　across　my　cheek；　I　couldn't　blame　him　for　what　he　had　done。　〃My　God；　and　I　almost　missed　it！〃
　
　〃Missed　what？〃　He　still　wasn't　sure　that　I　wasn't　hysterical。
　
　〃e　on　back　to　the　tractor　sled　and　see。　Smallwood　claims　he　thinks　of　everything；　but　he's　missed