Billy Topsail & Company, Norman Duncan [android based ebook reader .TXT] 📗

and so, at last, come to the trail again.

"'There's the trouble, John,' said I, pointing to the jutting rock. 'If we can get round that, we can go the rest of the way without any difficulty.'

"'No go,' said John. 'Come.'

"He jerked his head towards the bush, but I was not to be easily persuaded.

"'We'll go down and look at that place,' I replied. 'There may be a way.'

"There was a way, a clear, easy way, requiring no more than a bit of nerve to pass over it, and I congratulated myself upon persisting to its discovery. The path was by a stout ledge of ice, adhering to the cliff and projecting out from it for about eighteen inches. The river had fallen. This ledge had been formed when it was at its highest, and when the water had subsided the ice had been left sticking to the rock. The ledge was like the rim of ice that adheres to a tub when a bucketful of freezing water has been taken out.

"I clambered down to it, sounded it, and found it solid. Moreover, it seemed to lead all the way round, broadening and narrowing as it went, but wide enough in every part. I was sure-footed and unafraid, so at once I determined to essay the passage. 'I am going to try it!' I called to John, who was clinging to the cliff some yards behind and above me. 'Don't follow until I call you.'

"'Look out!' said he.

"'Oh, it's all right,' I said, confidently.

"I turned my back to the rock and moved out, stepping sidewise. It was not difficult until I came to a point where the cliff is overhanging--it may be a space of twelve feet or less; then I had to stoop, and the awkward position made my situation precarious in the extreme, for the rock seemed all the while bent on thrusting me off.

"The river was roaring past. Below me the water was breaking over a great rock, whence it shot, swift and strong, against a boulder which rose above it. I could hear the hiss and swish and thunder of it; and had I been less confident in my foothold, I might then and there have been hopelessly unnerved. There was no mercy in those seething rapids.

"'A fall would be the end of me,' I thought; 'but I will not fall.'

"Fall I did, however, and that suddenly, just after I had rounded the point and was hidden from John's sight. The cold of the late afternoon had frozen my boots stiff; they had been soaked in the swamp-lands, and the water was now all turned to ice.

"My soles were slippery and my feet were awkwardly managed. I slipped.

"My feet shot from under me. A flash of terror went through me. Then I found myself lying on my hip, on the edge of the shelf with my legs dangling over the rapids, my shoulder pressing the cliff, my hands flat on the ice, and my arms sustaining nearly the whole weight of my body.

"At that instant I heard a thud and a splash, as of something striking the water, and turning my eyes, I perceived that a section of the snow ledge had fallen from the cliff. It was not large, but it was between John and me, and the space effectually shut him off from my assistance.

"My problem was to get to my feet again. But how? The first effort persuaded me that it was impossible. My shoulder was against the cliff. When I attempted to raise myself to a seat on the ledge I succeeded only in pressing my shoulder more firmly against the rock. Wriggle as I would, the wall behind kept me where I was. I could not gain an inch. I needed no more, for that would have relieved my arms by throwing more of my weight upon my hips.

"I was in the position of a boy trying to draw himself to a seat on a window-sill, with the difference that my heels were of no help to me, for they were dangling in space. My arms were fast tiring out. The inch I needed for relief was past gaining, and it seemed to me then that in a moment my arms would fail me, and I should slip off into the river.

"'Better go now,' I thought, 'before my arms are worn out altogether. I'll need them for swimming.'

"But a glance down the river assured me that my chance in the rapids would be of the smallest. Not only was the water swift and turbulent, but it ran against the barrier of ice at the foot of the rapids, and it was evident that it would suck me under, once it got me there.

"Nor was there any hope in John's presence. I had told him to stay where he was until I called; and, to be sure, in that spot would he stay. I might call now. But to what purpose? He could do nothing to help me. He would come to the gap in the ledge, and from there peep sympathetically at me. Indeed, he might reach a pole to me, as he had done on the day before, but my hands were fully occupied, and I could not grasp it. So I put John out of my mind,--for even in the experience of the previous day I had not yet learned my lesson,--and determined to follow the only course which lay open to me, desperate though it was.

"'I'll turn on my stomach,' I thought, 'and try to get to my knees on the ledge.'

"I accomplished the turn, but in the act I so nearly lost my hold that I lost my head, and there was a gasping lapse of time before I recovered my calm.

"In this change I gained nothing. When I tried to get to my knees I butted my head against the overhanging rock, nor could I lift my foot to the ice and roll over on my side, for the ledge was far too narrow for that. I had altered my position, but I had accomplished no change in my situation. It was impossible for me to rest more of my weight upon my breast than my hips had borne. My weakening arms still had to sustain it, and the river was going its swirling way below me, just as it had gone in the beginning. I had not helped myself at all.

"There was nothing for it, I thought, but to commit myself to the river and make as gallant a fight for life as I could. So at last I called John, that he might carry our tidings to their destination and return to Fort Red Wing with news of a sadly different kind.

"'Ho!' said John.

"He was staring round the point of rock; and there he stood, unable to get nearer.

"'Ice under,' said he, indicating a point below me. 'More ice. Let down.'

"'What?' I cried. 'Where?'

"'More ice. Down there,' said he. 'Like this. Let down.'

"Then I understood him. Another ledge, such as that upon which I hung, had been formed in the same way, and was adhering to the rock beneath. No doubt there was a pool on the lower side of the point, and just below me, and the current would be no obstacle to the formation of ice. I had looked down from above, and the upper ledge had hidden the lower from me; but John, standing by the gap in the upper, could see it plainly.

"So I had but to let myself down until my feet rested on the new ledge, and this I did, with extreme caution and the expenditure of the last ounce of strength in my arms. Then a glance assured me that the way was clear to the shelving cliff beyond.

"'You go,' said John. 'I go round.'

"'All right,' said I. 'And, say! I wish I'd called you before.'

"'Ho!' said he, as he vanished.

"When John reached the Little Lake post late that night, the tidings of the safe return of the Hudson Bay Geological Expedition were on the way south by another messenger, and the company's physician was moving over the trail towards Fort Red Wing, making haste to the aid of the young professor, whom, indeed, he soon brought back to health. The passage by the ledge of ice had resulted in a gain of three hours, but whether or not it saved the professor's life I do not know. I do not think it did. It nearly cost me mine, but I had no thought of that when I essayed it, so my experience reflects no credit upon me whatever. I take fewer rash and reckless chances now on land and water, and I am not so overreliant upon my own resources.

"I have learned that a friend's help is of value."

At that moment the Ruddy Cove mail-boat entered the Tickle.


CHAPTER XXII


_In Which Billy Topsail Gets an Idea and, to the Amazement
of Jimmie Grimm, Archie Armstrong Promptly Goes Him One
Better_


While Archie Armstrong was pursuing his piratical adventure in the French harbour of St. Pierre, Billy Topsail had gone fishing with Jimmie Grimm and Donald North. This was in the trim little sloop that Sir Archibald had sent north to Billy Topsail in recognition of his service to Archie during a great blizzard from which Bill o' Burnt Bay had rescued them both.[5] There were now no fish in the summer waters of Ruddy Cove; but word had come down the coast that fish were running in the north. So up went the sails of the little _Rescue_; and with Billy Topsail, Jimmie Grimm and Bobby North aboard she swept daintily between the tickle rocks and turned her shapely prow towards White Bay.

There was good fishing with hook and line; and as the hold of the little sloop was small she was soon loaded with green cod.

"I 'low I got an idea," said Billy Topsail.

Jimmie Grimm looked up.

"We'll sail for Ruddy Cove the morrow," Billy went on; "an' when we lands our fish we'll go tradin'. There's a deal o' money in that, I'm told; an' with what we gets for our fish we'll stock the cabin o' the _Rescue_ and come north again t' trade in White Bay."

Donald and Jimmie were silent; the undertaking was too vast to be comprehended in a moment.

"Let's have Archie," said Jimmie, at last.

"An' poor ol' Bagg," said Donald.

"We'll have Archie if he'll come," Billy agreed, "an' Bagg if we can stow un away."

There was a long, long silence, during which the three boys began to dream in an amazing way.

"Billy," Donald North asked, at last, "what you goin' t' do with your part o' the money we'll make at tradin'?"

It was a quiet evening on the coast; and from the deck of the sloop, where she lay in harbour, the boys looked away to a glowing sunset, above the inland hills and wilderness.

"I don't know," Billy replied. "What you goin' t' do with your share, Jimmie?"

"Don't know," said Jimmie, seriously. "What you goin' t' do with yours, Donald?"

"I isn't quite made up my mind," said Donald, with an anxious frown. "I 'low I'll wait an' see what Archie does with his."

The three boys stowed away in the little cabin of the _Rescue_ very